home  |  dsl forums  |  equipment list  |  PLAY THE GAME  |  armor shops  |  newbie guide  |  maps/directions  ]

The World of Algoron

The Kingdoms
The Clans
The Races
Classes
History

Religion

Remorts
Manatonics
Crafting
Artifacts
The Underworld
Story Note Archive
History Notes Archive


Inside DSL

Contact Us
Players Online
The Immortals
Hall of Fame

Web Page Quests
Fan Links
Donations
Conventions
DSL Podcast
Submit a Con Card


Competition

Capture the Flag (ACFL)
Clan Wars
Algoron World Games
Kingdom Wars
Gladiator League
(AGL)
AGL Elite
Jousting Association (AJA)


 
Quick Polls

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

Camaraenaus Stories: Sylvia Thurlow and the Haunted Doors -- vi
Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Three)
Rebuilding The Docks
What Is In A Name?
Camaraenaus Stories: Sylvia Thurlow and the Haunted Doors -- vii
Camaraenaus Stories: Sylvia Thurlow and the Haunted Doors -- viii
Camaraenaus Stories: Sylvia Thurlow and the Haunted Doors -- ix
Camaraenaus Stories: Sylvia Thurlow and the Haunted Doors -- final
Mission into Camaraenaus
RE: Mission into Camaraenaus (The Illustrious Ostrich Cavalry)
{{My Name is Ryn: Part One}
{{My Name is Ryn: Part Two}
{{My Name is Ryn: Part Three}
{{My Name is Ryn: Part Four}
{{My Name is Ryn: Epilogue}
Researching the Past
{{A New Life: Part One}
{{A New Life: Part Two}
{{It Takes a Village: Part One}
{{It Takes a Village: Part Two} - AKA: Ostrich Operations
The Priestess: Beginnings [Part III]
Family.
{lame It On Vodka: Part One}
{lame It On Vodka: Part Two}
{lame It On Vodka: Part Three}
{lame It On Vodka: Part Four}
{lame It On Vodka: Part Five - Final}
Black Sheep
Still Standing
The Priestess: Beginnings [Part IV]
The Priestess: Beginnings [Part V]
The Priestess: Beginnings [Part VI]
Designs on a Mission
The End of Fear
Encroaching Destiny
Footsteps - I
The Chronicles of Thesh Dridesh: Prelude
The Edge of Dawn (Part XI)
The Chronicles of Thesh Dridesh: Delivery of a Champion
Goodbye, dolphin.
"When time is gone..."
"... It's time to go..."
"... Where time is endless."
{{Entrepreneur Escapades}
A Warrior's Training
To Do List...part 1
A Quest for Firewood (Part One)
A Quest for Firewood (Part Two)
The War on War
Subtle Bluntness
Subtle Bluntness II
Subtle Bluntness III
Subtle Bluntness IV
Subtle Bluntness V
{{When A Pirate Be Bored: Part One}
{{When A Pirate Be Bored: Part Two}
{{When A Pirate Be Bored: Part Three}
{{When A Pirate Be Bored: Part Four}
{{When A Pirate Be Bored: Part Five - Final}
*A Lesson in Headbutts*
Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Four)
To Do List...part 2
One Ill Fated Night
Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Five)
Reshaping
Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Six)
Camaraenaus: Enchantress to Farm Girl..
Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Seven)
You can't train an ostrich. Pt. 1
Temples of Raije - A kenders path to Soldiering
Somnolence III
The Priestess: Inspirations [Part I]
Baptism
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part One
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Two
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Three
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Four
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Five
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Six
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Seven
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Eight
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Nine
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Ten
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Eleven
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Twelve
Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Final Part
Temples of Raije - A kenders path to Soldiering (2)
Trusting in the Path
Logistics of Murder - Keeping it in the Family (Part I)
Logistics of Murder - Keeping it in the Family (Part II)
Logistics of Murder - Keeping it in the Family (Part III)
Logistics of Murder - Hiding the Body
Rhaxx Rage, Ebony Student
Leaving the Pridelands
Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Eight)
|Bath of Dragon's Blood|
Time brings about All things
Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Nine)
Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Ten)
The Coming of the Lord of the Gullies
Raising The Tower "Unexpected Guests" (Part One)
Acceptance
A Caged Songbird - The First Verse





Writer: Sohada
Date Sun May 25 16:30:34 2014




Writer: Rhowena
Date Mon May 26 04:09:38 2014




Writer: Sohada
Date Mon May 26 06:28:35 2014




Writer: Rikam
Date Mon May 26 11:52:45 2014

To All Verminasia Camaraenaus RP

Subject Camaraenaus Stories: Sylvia Thurlow and the Haunted Doors -- vi


The boy was a little disappointed that none of this appeared to have
anything to do with ghosts. He still wasn't sure he was actually ready to
meet a ghost. If the stories were true he'd likely be better off if he never
did. Some people, like the Baroness, were more infested with the things
than an Althainian mongrel mutt with fleas. As he observed the exchange
between Sylvia and this ghastly character called Bronson, he drifted off in
his own thoughts, mostly weighing the pros and cons of an eternal ghostly
companion. You'd never want for company, sure...but still...fleas are flees.

"Come on. We're leaving."

He was a little startled by the words suddenly directed at his person. He
took a moment to reevaluate the situation. Bronson looked rather pleased
with himself. The man's smile seemed vaguely like that of an alligator's.
Not that he'd ever actually seen an alligator, but he'd heard they were right
smug and ugly looking devils. He didn't like the way he looked at Sylvia.

Sylvia, for her part, not accustomed to dealing with self-pity, or loss, or
grief, decided to angrily brood through the walk back to the girls' rooms.
He reflected on how she should have just arranged to lock Bronson in a
cupboard somewhere when they were younger. Maybe light a fire around
it. Oh yes. That would have been good.

The boy seemed like he was warming up to her. He was getting more
talkative anyway and she, for the mood she was in, couldn't spare the
energy to tell him off. "Do ya think it was 'cause of him? That the
doors ain't safe, I mean
"

Oh hell, she thought. Just let me go to bed.
"No. No I doubt it. Doors are perfectly safe." She had heard of
certain magics that could muddle up a person's brain and make them
forget, or remember wrongly, even the most simple things. That would
have required an especially brilliant sort of magician though, and Sylvia
didn't believe for a second that Bronson had the brain activity to manage
anything nearly as clever as that. "No," she said again, "The doors
are my problem. You let me worry about that, yeah? Just keep up bein' a
good assistant in the mean time.
"

The boy seemed pleased enough with that, and the pair made their way
through the darkening halls of Castor Manor.




Writer: Calvissus

Date Mon May 26 15:11:13 2014




Writer: Aliera

Date Mon May 26 15:22:32 2014




Writer: Sindraste

Date Mon May 26 22:07:47 2014




Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Tue May 27 01:10:36 2014

To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Althainia Knighthood Justice Arkane Nordmaar imm rp Scorn Ehldin Austinian Zandreya

Subject Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Three)


"Oh, good. The gnomething isss finissshed with itsss tasssksss." The
large brass dragon quipped, as he retracted his enormous head and snout away
from the entrance to the pavillion, and by extension, the now angry project
manager. He took a step back and sat on his haunches, the light of dawn
gleaming majestically off of his metallic scales, one of which, reflected a
beam of sunlight directly into Thimtax's eyes.

"Oh, for the love of..." The hardhat wearing gnome brought his right hand
up to shield his eyes from the glare, "HEY! Do you realize what kind of
mess you made in there!?"


Ol' Brassy smiled wryly, lowering his massive head towards the gnome. "It
findsss hisss methodsss quite effective, yesss? I wanted your attention,
and you were being quite difficult about it, asss softlingsss often are."


"Difficult?! Justwhereinthehelldoyou- Wait. Weren't you just..."
Thimtax's words trailed off as the connection between Furui and the brass
dragon was finally made.

The large brass dragon shook his head slowly. "Like he hasss sssaid, it
wasss being ssstubborn."
Ol' Brassy raised his head upright and closed his
eyes. After several seconds, the transformation complete, Furui once again
stood before him, clad in nondescript brown robes, and a meek smile on his
face. "Clearly, I would've much preferred to do this in my human form. I
stick out like a sore thumb out here in my natural state. It's a good thing
I came here nice and early. The blasted whole town will be awake soon. Now
come on. This has already taken longer than I had anticipated, seeing as I
had underestimated your obstinacy."


"Now, hold on just a damn minute!" , The hardhat wearing gnome grew more
indignant by the moment. "I told you All the things I've got to take care
of today, and now that you turned my office into a tornado zone, it'll take
me that much longer!"


The cherubic man chuckled slightly to himself, then strode right up to the
little gnome, lowering his head to Thimtax's ear. He smiled evilly and
spoke quietly, in an almost sickeningly sweet whisper.

"I think you're -lying- to me!"

Thimtax froze at Furui's words. Having been Vice President of Manufacturing
and Production for so many years, and subsequently being project manager for
the tower, he was certainly not used to anyone questioning his words, save
for the Chairman. Ixi'kweez, the little gnome knew how to handle. But the
human before him, and his natural form, he had no good ideas on how to
handle that. Thimtax simply stood there frozen, his mouth agape in
uncertainty.

Furui looked the little gnome in the eye. "Your tower is nearly complete,
and you mean to tell me that you, a 'master builder', still do not have your
paperwork and ordering and All that mundane stuff taken care of already? If
I didn't know any better, I'd say you were being lazy."


Thimtax boggled his head in frustration. Ol' Brassy had him pegged. But
what if we -was- being lazy? He felt that he had certainly earned it, given
the progress the tower had made. He quietly considered his next argument.
However, Furui's patience was rapidly running out.

"We really don't have time for this. We need to get moving!" , The
cherubic man brought his hands to his temples and rubbed them slightly.
"You know what? Fine. I know how to get your ass moving."

Furui lowered himself to one knee and looked into Thimtax's eyes with deadly
sincerity. "You will -never- be able to claim perfection in this tower.
Not without -my- help."



Raising The Tower, the full novel so far:


-> https://drive.google.com/folderview?id=0B6OJjgBBV3jVSnlZdHlCcnBCSUk&usp=sharing




Writer: Sohada

Date Tue May 27 09:55:55 2014




Writer: Nimesa

Date Wed May 28 11:42:05 2014




Writer: Sohada

Date Thu May 29 06:57:34 2014




Writer: Sohada

Date Thu May 29 10:38:32 2014




Writer: Azzure

Date Thu May 29 10:58:16 2014




Writer: Thaydius

Date Thu May 29 22:38:40 2014




Writer: Thaydius

Date Thu May 29 22:39:41 2014




Writer: Thaydius

Date Thu May 29 22:41:03 2014




Writer: Ilimilipili

Date Fri May 30 04:46:13 2014

To All Verminasia

Subject Rebuilding The Docks



Ilimilipili was sweating. And not in the good way --- there was no lusty
adventure between the sheets, no decadent bloodsport to leave her drenched
in the remainders of another's life; only pure, unadulterated labor. Her
voice wavered, going slightly off key, and All of the strong, strapping
young men and hardened lasses working on the docks looked up at her, a few
beginning to question how they'd been tricked to the docks with a simple
song and a sweet face. She corrected her tune, quickly, smiling her most
sincere-looking of smiles.

The beasts that had destroyed the docks were gone --- one slain, All that
meat left to rot in the Sh'lanira, alongside All the other sea-scum that had
gotten in their way.

It was almost a pity. Even though she had helmed the vessel that had taken
revenge, she wanted more. After so much singing, she was near-hoarse, and
would be so for days, it seemed. The people before her, a
half-distinguishable blob of red, worked steadily on repairing the docks,
unconcerned with the tumultuous thoughts that brewed in Ilimilipili's head.
And really, they All boiled down to one undeniable thought:

She wanted blood.

Blood for the damage to the ships. Blood for the damage to the docks.
Blood for... Well, there was always a reason to want blood. At least for
the moment, though, the reason wasn't boredom.

She sighed softly through the verses of her song, repeating the notes of her
various songs of charm over and over again, going through them like simple,
rote magic, not the beautiful ballads they were meant to be. She felt like
a butcher of her art, unclean --- but the docks were getting fixed, bit by
bit.

She didn't know what she was going to do with the scraggly collection of
pirates and pirate lasses from the cove, once she had no more use for their
service. Perhaps she would lead them to drink, somewhere in the city; make
them the Deathwatch's problem. Her Champion wouldn't speak to her for a
week, she was certain, if she did.

So what to...

Another smile, grim and playful, touched her face. Shalonesti could always
use a few more pirates, couldn't they?

She returned to her singing.

'Gaze into my eyes, as I gaze into thee, my love. Listen closely to my
words, follow me, follow me... '




Writer: Tyrinx

Date Fri May 30 11:48:35 2014




Writer: Casiella
Date Fri May 30 14:26:22 2014

To All of Abaddon ( Fatale Religion RP ) Zypher

Subject What Is In A Name?



Casiella Darksong, current Executioner of Abaddon and devout servant of
Fatale, sat in the garden. Her green eyes, older and filled with the wisdom
of many trials and errors, roamed the vegetation and outside statues
absently, then came to land upon a beast grazing in the midst. The creature
was powerful, evident in the ripple of muscle beneath shiny black hair and a
thick hide resistant to predator claws and teeth. Most of its strength
resided in its legs, deceptively slender, but ending in hooves both sturdy
and sharp. Those hooves could crush the skull of an ogre easily, and the
beast itself was intelligent enough to learn complex maneuvers that allowed
the rider to put complete and utter faith in it.

There was nothing else worthy of carrying her into battle.

And nothing hated her quite so much.

From very early in her crusader days, Casiella had felt a sense of
foreboding every time she mounted up on the creature Fatale had granted her.
To say the animal was a blessing was an understatement, but that had never
brought an end to the hostilities the two shared. At first, the thing had
bitten at her, often tearing flesh and leaving bruises. Once she had even
been forced to see a mender for a few shattered bones. Later on, he had
taken to bucking her violently at the worst moment - leaving her on the
ground, dazed, and prone to the attacks of her foes.

In return, her charger had suffered All manner of scathing, verbal assaults.
She had whacked him on the neck with her gauntleted hands, smacked his flank
with riding crops and later her sword. What seemed to aggravate the
creature worst of All however, was her complete disrespect for its
individuality. She had refused to name the beast, wishing no part of that
bond that comes with such a thing. After all, it was a beast and she its
master, and the bumpy road had only continued to prove that in her mind.

With a sigh, Casiella stood up from the bench and approached the grazing
charger. With a snort, the beast lifted its head and let its ears lay back,
an aggitated flick of its tail warning her she might suffer a hoof or his
strong teeth if she wasn't careful.

"Easy now, " she coaxed the charger. He merely stamped an incredulous hoof
at her, but she did see his ears relax a little bit. "I think it is time
you and I had a talk... Maybe clear a little of this foul air.
"

With her words, the best turned his head toward her, the large, dark eyes
focusing as if to say he was listening.

"We have been at this for years, now, and frankly, I'm getting old. I don't
want to keep up this fighting with someone that is supposed to be my
partner. So I'm ready to call a truce if you are. "

The charger's ears came complete erect, swiveling in her direction and the
aggitated twitching of muscles under the glossy hide ceased. She could
almost swear the swish of his tail was indication for her to keep going.

"So I'm offering respect. Better food for you, I'll fix the stables up nice
and cozy. Hell, I'll even give you a name if you want one. I think you've
earned it.
"

Against every instinct, Casiella held still as her companion charger
approached her and gave her a nudge with his snout. No bite came. No
surprise kick. Just a nibble on her vambrace as the unholy creature gave
its silent agreement to the truce.

"Then I name you... Sunshatter. "




Writer: Ashlen

Date Sun Jun 1 06:51:40 2014




Writer: Rikam

Date Tue Jun 3 14:59:25 2014

To All Verminasia Camaraenaus RP

Subject Camaraenaus Stories: Sylvia Thurlow and the Haunted Doors -- vii


Sylvia Thurlow couldn't sleep.

And it wasn't because of what that nimrod Bronson had said. Definitely
not that. And it had nothing to do with All this stupidness with the doors,
or with the fact that she had wasted half of her day locked in her own
bedroom, or that the other half was spent on a fruitless romp through the
manor All while having to rely on that boy to do so much as open a kitchen
door.

No. It was because the lanterns in the hall outside here room were still on
and her door was left slightly open. Just a crack. Just enough to let in a
sliver of light. It was unbearable, but that was it. That's all. It's nothing
to do with anything else, thank you. Just the light. Just the open door.

The door.

This insistent line of thinking had, of course, done nothing to help. As the
night came on and darkness crept from the spaces between lamplight,
Sylvia had instructed the boy to escort her back to her rooms. He had
offered to return in the early morning to help with the bedroom door, but
she waved it off. "Just leave it open a crack. I'll be alright."

Sylvia flopped back onto the bed, heaved a loud, exasperated sigh, and
expected that that would be the end of it.

She rose from her bed several hours later feeling more tired, more
anxious, and more fed up than ever.

"The hell you want from me?" she shouted at the bedroom door.

The door remained silent.

Sylvia folded her arms with a huff and stared back at it. She waited less
than the span of three breaths before heaving out another utterly
exasperated groan. To the casual onlooker it might have seemed like she
was making a practice of exploring the furthest possible reaches of a
young girl's capacity for complete and utter frustration.

"Right!" She said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She
marched towards teh door with long, pointed strides. "You and me.
We're goin' to settle this right here, right now, or else Devion put out my
eyes and pluck off my hands.
"

In a series of remarkably fluid movements, Sylvia reached out, shut the
door, folded her arms and cross her chest and landed her bottom right on
the floor where she sat like a tight, cross-legged lump and scowled in such
a way that looked entirely like a young girl's impression of a very stubborn,
very grumpy old man.

She stared at the door.
The door stared back.
Neither of them spoke.

It went on like this for a very, very long time.




Writer: Rikam

Date Tue Jun 3 15:08:49 2014

To All Verminasia Camaraenaus RP

Subject Camaraenaus Stories: Sylvia Thurlow and the Haunted Doors -- viii


"What. Do. You. Want," she finally said.

The door was silent.

"Have I done something to upset you? What have I done? I've been
-nothing- but nice to your lot!
"

The door was silent.

"Is it because I'd never used a key? Is that it? Well now you're just bein'
childish! If ya didn't like me charmin' your locks than ya shouldn't have
made it so easy for me to open 'em! It's not my fault I know how ya work!
"

The door was silent.

"Look, I'm sorry alright! I'm sorry I didn't ask first. I'm sorry I didn't
use a key. I'll ask nicely 'n everything from now on, I promise. Ya don't even
have to unlock every time if ya don't want. It's fine. I'll understand. No
hard feelings or anything. Just please, please, please don't shut me out
like this. Please!
"

The door was silent.

"Grraaaaaaahhhh!"

Sylvia screamed, eyes flooded with tears and fists pounding against the
wooden door. The door, for All her mad flailing, did not give way.

It did not take long for the girl to wear herself out. Her emotions poured
out, her energy spent, it was only a matter of minutes before Sylvia
collapsed in front of the door, exhausted and sobbing quietly.

It was cathartic, in a way. The room felt darker, quieter, more empty. Her
mind was quiet. Her heartbeat had slowed. Time stilled and ceased to
have meaning. Even the ghosts in the door seemed to have left her alone.
Everything was empty.




Writer: Rikam

Date Tue Jun 3 15:13:25 2014

To All Verminasia Camaraenaus RP

Subject Camaraenaus Stories: Sylvia Thurlow and the Haunted Doors -- ix


Eventually she came to.

She wasn't sure if she had woken up, if she had even been sleeping, or if
her mind had simply decided to switch back on. The room was filled with
the dim gray light of pre-dawn. The night had passed.

Sylvia lifted her head and wiped up the salt of dried tears with a sleeve.
She looked up at the door. It may as well have been a wall. Silent.
Empty. Impassable. She felt nothing, save a muted sense of resignation.
The doors were closed to her now. That was that.

She rose to her feet and stretched herself out, feeling stiff for having spent
the night on the floor, but recovering quickly in the way that young people
do.

She said nothing as she lifted her hand to rest on the door but felt,
somewhere in the pit of her stomach, a single quiet sentiment.

"I'm sorry."




Writer: Rikam

Date Tue Jun 3 15:27:45 2014

To All Verminasia Camaraenaus RP

Subject Camaraenaus Stories: Sylvia Thurlow and the Haunted Doors -- final


It looked like it was going to rain today.

Sylvia stood at the window, observing the clouds and the streets of
Fairburrow and the wide planes stretching out beyond. She wondered
how long it would take to walk to the edge of it. The edge of the fields
of Camaraenaus, the boarders of Verminasia, the land, the sea, the world.
Dully, she wondered if there was a key somewhere that would appease
doors. She shrugged the thought off. It wouldn't matter. Sooner or later
the Baron's men would find her here and drag her away. She'd be thrown
out onto the street and stranded in the outside, forever barred from the
boundless world contained in the places guarded by doors.

There would be people out there who could hold them open for her, she
was sure. Maybe that boy would come with her if she asked.

But it wouldn't be the same. Not even close. Any way she cut it, her
freedom was lost.

Sylvia thudded her head against the window and exhaled a resigned sigh.
Just outside the window, before All the ominous yawning of the world
beyond, was a large cherry tree. She idly wondered if the branches would
support her weight, if she could shimmy down down and run off into the
dawn unnoticed and without ceremony in a way fitting All the Manor
Orphans before her. It would have been a better way for her to leave, she
knew, if only it weren't for that window blocking the way.

The window.

Sylvia blinked.

"No."

A wide grin spread across her face, rich with the simple, stupidly obvious
humor of it.

"No!" She cried out again, laughing in her disbelief. "Ha! Haha!
The window! The window! The bloody window! This whole time, you slippery
devil!
"

Tears rolled from her eyes as she laughed. Both her palms pressed fondly
to the glass as she stared, with absolute clarity, at the window's latch.
She laughed and laughed and nearly collapsed, her whole body awash with the
profound and immediate sense of relief.

She knew what to do.

Simpler than tying a boot or putting on a hat, Syliva reached out with two
extended fingers, hooked them around the little latch, and pulled.

*click*

She pushed her other hand against the glass. A rush of cool morning air
flooded her.

She nearly fell out that open window, but she felt light. Light as a leaf
in autumn. With beaming, pure laughter she practically glided towards the
tree's branch. She felt entirely outside of herself as she scurried down,
her arms and legs moving with pure, automatic ease. She leapt from a
lower branch and it the ground rolling. She sprung up to her feet and
took off at a run.

"Thank you!" she cried as she bounded through the empty streets and
out past the town gates. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

The window had opened. A small thing, maybe, but it was hope enough.
She did it on her own.

And now, she figured, there was a key to be found.




Writer: Dahakon

Date Tue Jun 3 16:26:20 2014

To Verminasia All Rikam Dahakon Camaraenaus Iolanthe RP Tashio

Subject Mission into Camaraenaus



Dahakon stood at the border of Iolanthe and Camaraenaus squinting as the
sounds of the river of rage are heard in the background. His men were on a
mission. The Baron had trained and formed a specialized group, one that he
had kept quiet to all, even the Crown. They had been spotted at times, and
reported, but Dahakon always feint ignorance when asked about them. They
were missionaries of Mencius. All of Iolanthe's citizens were pressed into
service to the Lord of Rage and Vengeance. If they did not follow him when
they moved to Iolanthian soil, they learned quickly and were corrected
harshly.

The four missionaries were off on another mission over into Camaraenaus to
try to save some of their "misguided children" as the Baron often referred
to them as. Dahakon's grand plans were to convince the Queen to turn over
Camaraenaus to him so that he could create a Duchy of the Kingdom. He
wanted power, he craved power. Sure he was a Bishop but the Church funds
were already used to pay for elaborate vacations and even the novelty of his
position had worn off. No, he needed more, he deserved more.

As Dahakon caught sight of three missionaries stealthy making their way back
to Iolanthe, he wondered of the location of the fourth. Dahakon had
instructed them to leave no man behind, not that he had any love for his
fellow man but more because he did not wish any evidence to be left behind.
The missionaries got out of the raft, used for crossing the river, and
slowly walked towards the Baron dragging someone behind them. "What is this
then?" Questioned the Baron.

"The things practically attacked him Baron, they pecked him and ripped him
apart with their nails!" Replied one of the missionaries.

"What attacked him?! Who dares attack an Iolanthian citizen?!"

"The ostriches sire."

Dahakon balled his fist into his hand and sighed loudly. "Remove his body
and dump him in the river in a few nights time." Looking back towards
Camaraenaus he almost growled... "I really hate that man."




Writer: Rhaskos

Date Tue Jun 3 17:09:30 2014




Writer: Rhaskos

Date Tue Jun 3 17:12:37 2014




Writer: Rhaskos

Date Tue Jun 3 17:14:58 2014




Writer: Rikam

Date Tue Jun 3 18:14:04 2014

To Verminasia All Rikam Dahakon Camaraenaus Iolanthe RP Tashio

Subject RE: Mission into Camaraenaus (The Illustrious Ostrich Cavalry)



Commander Fish O'hara of the First Illustrious Camaraenian Ostrich
Cavalry In Devion's Name Amen stood at the bank of the Mencious river.
Today he was damn proud of his troop. He'd named them himself, by
leave of Baron Oneiroi, and by gods if they weren't living up to it.

He patted the neck of his ostrich, which he had fondly named Saint Oliver
von Nibbles, and the large bird bellowed a low hoot in turn. The rest of his
men had stayed behind to enjoy a cheer or three (though he reckoned
they'd be along soon enough. The scowl of the neighboring Baron
Kensey was said to be a sight that could make angels weep. He doubted
any of his troop would want to miss it.)

"Ahoy and salutations, noble sire!" Fish called out to the thoroughly
displeased looking Mencian Bishop across the river. He had never
actually -seen- Iolanthe's Baron before, but if he had to guess...
"Baron Kensey, is it? Bloody good thing I found you!"

The man called Baron Kensey, who appeared to be indulging a bit of very
serious brooding, finally seemed to notice Fish. The three men
accompanying him All looked over as well, mouths agape and fingers
pointed in stern accusation.

"Ah yes! Good! You've found them! We've been having a most terrible
rash of ostrich thieves across the province lately, and it appears those
three you're traveling with have been grievously mistaken for the very
same brigands responsible! A case of mistaken identity only, of course.
Nothing to worry about! No harm done!
"

Across the water, Baron Kensey gave a stare that could have shrunk a
boulder. Fish, oblivious as he was to reproval of any sort, carried on.

"Well, right. A little harm only. I suppose you're owed an explanation.
Right silly animals, ostriches! We tried training them to after men with
characteristics similar to our suspected thieves! Being the right ugly lot
they are, we figured the chances were one in a million of anyone else
sharing their likeness.
"

Fish glanced to each side and found himself flanked by the rest of his
troop. They were All grins and barely subdued laughter. He sat up a little
straighter.

"Well wouldn't you just know it, the fool birds took one look at your men
there and HOOOOO! There wasn't a thing we could do to stop 'em! The
poor things were practically rabid!
"

All the ostriches of the troop bellowed their low hoots and ruffled their
feathers. Their riders All hooted in laughter.




Writer: Meryna

Date Tue Jun 3 20:10:58 2014

To Verminasia Rikam All - Imm RP

Subject {{My Name is Ryn: Part One}


Rain poured down on the city of Verminasia making the late evening dark
and the streets nearly empty. By sunset All the stores were closing, except
for the places that sold drinks that kept a body warm and happy. It was
from outside one of these places that a young child, covered in enough grime
to be mistaken for a refuse pile, stood watching the patrons inside. Cold
water from the gutters dripped down on their head, soaking the worn cap on
their head and the dingy hair beneath. Its natural color had long been
forgotten.

"Get outta the way you filthy urchin, " snarled a nobleman as he guided his
pompously dressed lady inside. He followed up the gnarled words with a
swift kick, but the urchin was already well out of the way.

"Stick it in yer arse! " the child yelled back, kicking a foot through a
puddle of water best left unexamined. The resulting spray got All over the
nobleman's trousers and his face turned beet red. By the time he could
react the urchin was gone, trailed by the flash of a dark brown creature
down a side alley too dangerous for one of Verminasia's court dandies.

After ducking and dodging low hanging lines of laundry that was never going
to get fully clean, and puddles of waste and cheap booze, the child ended up
just outside of the city. They crawled in through a small, hidden hole to a
barn that was warm and dry, followed by their animal companion. The two
shook off, upsetting the hogs that were already bedding down, and then
slipped behind a few bales of stacked hay. On the ground tumbled a small
pile of shining silver coins and half of one of those bakers loaves nearly
the length of a full grown man's arm.

"I think this'll do, Schnaps, " the child said to the liger, which nodded
wisely toward its friend. With a smile, the urchin tore the bread in half
and split it with the cub. Both munched in silence as one grubby hand dug a
hole near the corner of the barn, unearthing a cracked jar filled with coins
of similar color, paired by golden ones and a couple of small, shining blue
diamonds. In the light of a single oil lantern, the urchin counted high as
they could, which was only five, only a couple times.

After devouring the bread, the urchin pulled a final hard role from their
pocket and split it in half with the liger. They held the firm bread in
their teeth as they buried their small hoard again, then leaned against the
hay pile, lifting up an arm for the cub. A comfortable silence lingered,
disturbed only by the grunt or shuffle of a pig as it dreamed.

"Reckon that man were telling the truth? " the child asked of the faithful
animal. Big, sweet brown eyes looked up at the urchin. An observer might
have said the animal nodded, but the only ones around to see were tucked
away inside their nice farm house for the night. Silence stretched out
again as the child began to think of the past.

"No, " the young pickpocket finally declared weakly. "He weren't. Adults
don't tell the truth. They always lie.
" A large, furry paw flopped over
the child's lap in protest. "Ye know et's the truth, Schnaps... Ye can't
trust anyone. That's why... That's why we'll take All t'coin we can and
someday we'll buy a big ship, you an' me.
"

With a small smile at the thought, oddly white and healthy against the
dirt-covered face, the young child stroked a silky soft ear, the liger
purring at the touch.

"Right... You an' me. We don't need nobody else with their rules an' their
lies. We be past cryin', now... Relyin' on folks like that... "

Despite their words, the urchin began to fell asleep, tears creating new
stains upon the grimy cheeks.




Writer: Meryna

Date Tue Jun 3 20:30:29 2014

To Verminasia Rikam All - Imm RP

Subject {{My Name is Ryn: Part Two}


Dawn came with a mist over the lands of Verminasia. As the sun poked
through the milky air, making the plants sparkle and the haziness disappear,
the young urchin crawled out of the little hole in the barn just as the
farmer opened the door to let the pigs out to wallow and eat. Patting the
liger on the head as it followed, the child grinned and made a low, quick
scamper through the farm back toward the city. While the guards were busy
yawning and checking the passes of visiting merchants and tourists, the
small child slipped inside the city, leaving only the distinctively foul
odor in their wake.

After passing the guards and finding a shadowy place in a side alley to
watch the slow pass of nobles, clergy and regular folks, the child crouched
down. Others of their kind, All wide-eyed and thin-faced, peered out from
other similar spots: the sides of buildings, from under the guillotine, next
to statues and behind bushes and topiaries meant to give All the stone some
color. With the passing rains, it promised to be a clear day, but the child
was particularly pleased to see how many puddles littered the streets. They
even let a little giggle as they pointed to a particularly soupy looking one
that spanned nearly the entire road.

"Et's gonna be a good day, Schnaps! "

The liger simply yawned and swished a tail.

With a nod, the two set off again, heading toward the temple at the northern
end of the city, and where the traffic was normally the heaviest. Another
wicked little grin tugged at the cracked lips as several people appeared,
heading toward the temple, engrossed in conversation, which meant the man on
the right of the group did not see the puddle until it was too late.

"Oh, for the love of- I just purchased these this morning, " the man
bemoaned, his voice somewhat familiar, but the urchin had no time to think
about that.

Like a bolt of lightning, hair-curling and filthy, they shot out from a
corner straight toward the man who was busy looking at his shoes with
disdain. The child smacked into the man, and reached for a coin purse,
snagging the jangling pouch as the man wobbled and headed for the ground.
The pouch was shoved up a sleeve as the pickpocket moved to make a run for
it, but a hand, bony and unyielding as death gripped their shoulder. A cry
of alarm and pain passed the lips that had so recently been smiling, the
pouch hitting the ground and spilling the gold coins All over the cobbled
road.

"OUCH! Schnaps! " the urchin cried, and the liger launched itself with a
snarl at the ankle of the man holding his friend captive.

The man cried out in pain and outrage, but the feline was a little too fast
to be struck.

"Guards! " a third man cried, alerting a pair of passing patrolmen to the
situation. The whole crowd turned to look as the child wrenched themselves
free, scooped up a handful of the gold coins and made a run for it,
beckoning the liger with a whistle.

Together, the two tore off down the street amongst cries of shock, disgust,
and outrage.

"HALT! " cried the guards, a couple of arrows pinging off the street near
the feet of the fleeing pair until the child seemingly vanished into thin
air.




Writer: Meryna

Date Tue Jun 3 21:26:44 2014

To Verminasia Rikam All - Imm RP

Subject {{My Name is Ryn: Part Three}


As the guards rushed passed the urchin in their hiding spot, their armor
clanging and squeaking, the child held their breath. Quiet began to follow
as things returned to normal, a few minutes passing before the
half-successful pickpocket looked down to their partner. With a nervous
laugh and a grin to chase off the shaking of hands normally steady, the
child reached down to dig fingers into the fur of the liger.

"That were close, weren't it, Schnaps? Ye really saved my hide there, " the
child declared with no small amount of gratitude and affection. "Always
know I can count on ye.
"

Instead of the purr that normally accompanied such a thing, the urchin was
met with a pained, pathetic mewl. The mewl brought attention to the
slickness beneath the urchin's palm and with as much fear and hope as a
heart can feel at the same time, the child slowly looked down.

A deep gash opened along the liger's back as the child lifted their hand,
fresh blood dripping from fingers and wound alike. The slice, likely from
one of the arrows fired by the guards, was deep enough that the child could
see the muscles under the fur and skin.

"Sch-Schnaps, what... " the child choked, hot tears blinding the hazel eyes
and making the skin turn red.

The liger mewled again, weakly and tried to stand up, but it was painfully
obvious the creature had not much strength. Blood, shiny and dark in the
shadows of the hiding space, covered the entire side of the small cub while
it struggled. Some instinct made the child pull off the dirty old coat they
wore and wrap the liger up tight, cinching the sleeves tight in a
tournaquet.

"No... No, no, no, no, no... " the child whispered. Begging. Demanding.
Praying. "Hold on Schnaps. I... I'll fix this somehow... " the child
promised.

Gold coins forgotten, tears flowing heavy and hot down the young, gaunt
cheeks, the child picked up the liger. Grunting at the weight, hands slick
with blood, the child struggled toward the center of town. There, amidst a
crowd of people that only noticed or cared due to the smell, the child began
to scream.

"MY NAME IS RYN! "

A passing noblewoman scowled with her ugly painted face and her fake, fancy
wig.

"Shut up, urchin. "

But the child simply took another deep breath.

"MY NAME IS RYN! "

Annoyed, the noblewoman carried on, but more eyes were turning toward the
filthy, awful smelling child with irritation and anger, or curiosity.
Vaguely, the child could hear a couple of the adults saying to call for the
guards, but the child kept on.

"MY NAME IS RYN! " they yelled again, and again.

"Right, that's enough out of you, wretch! "




Writer: Meryna

Date Tue Jun 3 21:41:38 2014

To Verminasia Rikam All - Imm RP

Subject {{My Name is Ryn: Part Four}


A stone came flying out of nowhere, nailing the urchin in the temple.
Stars exploded in their vision, a gash opening up deep enough to let blood,
hot and thick, poor down the side of the child's face. A cackle of laughter
grew out of the gathering crowd, and another man stooped to pick up a stone,
lobbing it at the urchin. The child turned their back to the stone, but it
hit a rib and nearly forced out a cry of agony. More laughter errupted from
the crowd.

"Hey, do it again! " someone from the faceless masses called to the two
men.

"MY NAME IS RYN! " the child persisted, nearly blinded completely by tears
and pain and blood.

The liger started to squirm in its bundle, a low growl cut off weakly as its
friend bowed over it protectively.

"I said shut up, you gutter rat! " cried the first man to lob a stone,
pitching another in the direction of the pickpocket. The stone nailed the
youngster in the shoulder, sending a numb shock down the arm, but even so
the child refused to make a pained noise, lifting their voice again.

"M-MY NAME IS RYN! "

"Alright, that's enough, " came the firm, authoratative growl of a guard.
The crowd parted to let the guards through, reluctantly. Still blinded, the
child could not react quick enough as their arm was grabbed, roughly and
given a firm shake.

"No! " the urchin gasped in protest, wild panic making them surprisingly
strong and wily. A kick landed on an unprotected shin and drew a grunt, but
the grip only tightened, threatening to break an arm.

"Shut up or I'll cut out your tongue, " the guard threatened as he began to
drag the child toward the western gate.

"No! " the child yelled again, full panic making them nearly drop the
weakening liger. "Please, no! " they cried, desperation and pleading
mixing with a voice becoming choked with tears and pain.

"I have to find him! He said if he heard my name he'd find me. Please,
mister! Please!
"

The guard halted just inside the western gate, peering down at the
disgusting, blood-soaked child incredulously. "Who? " the guard demanded,
clearly waiting for a lie. The child still tried.

"I- I don't know his name, mister, but... He... He wore a Captain's coat,
and he had a big hat, with a feather. He seemed really important! " the
child said breathlessly.

Something must have clicked because the guard barked a laugh.

"As if the Admiral would have anything to do with a piece of shite like you,
brat. Get out of here,
" the guard growled, flinging the child out past the
gate. The urchin fell on knees and elbows, protecting the bundle in their
arms. "If I see you again, you're dead. "

With that, the guard nodded to the gatekeepers and the large gates were
shut, leaving the child to sob and bleed in the middle of the western road.




Writer: Meryna

Date Tue Jun 3 22:00:27 2014

To Verminasia Rikam All - Imm RP

Subject {{My Name is Ryn: Epilogue}


Picking themselves up carefully, the child readjusted the bundle in their
arms. They peeked beneath the bloodied coat and saw that the wound had
dried up, mostly, only a few spots still seeping blood.

"H-hang in there, Schnaps. You're gonna make it, " the child promised with
childish hope. "You have to... "

The walk back to the farm was a long one, made slow by the urchin's
inability to see well. The right eye had swollen shut, sealed with dried
blood from the stone. Also slowing progress was the heavy, barely breathing
bundle of the liger cub that they made every effort not to jar or shift.
Finally, the child pushed the bundle inside of the barn as the sun was
setting and then crawled in after.

Some people are stupid. You get lucky.

The words seemed to echo like an ominous omen inside of the child as she
made a soft bed of the hay and laid the liger in it. A cracked bowl held
enough water for the liger to have a drink, but it did not eat any of the
dried meat the child tried to offer it. Now and then, the urchin would move
the oil lantern about, trying to use the little bit of heat to keep the cub
warm.

"I wish Old Bernie were still alive... He... He would know what to do, "
the child whispered as they stroked a silky ear. The liger did not respond,
but it was still breathing, so the child continue to stroke the fur on its
head, not knowing what else they could do.

"Please hang in there, Schnaps... I need you. "

Some time later, the child fell asleep.

When they awoke, a loud wail of soul-shattering sorrow filled the barn,
making the pigs squeal and shuffle toward the door that was normally their
escape route.

"Schnaps! Schnaps, wake up! " the child cried, giving the liger's body
shakes. They started gentle at first, but grew more frantic. Eventually
the child could no longer speak. Could no longer bring themselves to coax a
corpse into waking. Could no longer bear to even look at the bundled body
as it lay lifeless on the hay.

The child carefully removed the collar from around the liger's neck and
removed the blood stained cloak. Silently, working like a zombie, steady,
small hands dragged the corpse out of the barn and into the woodlands
beyond. Those same hands began to dig through the debris, the dirt,
burrowing into the ground over and over to create a hole. Nails were torn
away, skin split and bloodied, blisters formed in the palms and still the
child continued until there was a hole big enough. Then the child carefully
placed the liger within and covered it with the dirt.

As they patted the last bit of dirt into place, dragging a few stones over
the pile to make a small cairn, the child closed their eyes.

Everyone lies. Even the child had lied in the last hours of their best and
only friend's life. There was no truth. It was All a lark, every last bit.
And it was unfair.

Standing, shaking, the child placed the collar around their throat and
turned back toward Verminasia. The guards on duty pointed a pike at the
child as they approached, too well trained to show their shock at a child in
such a state.

"Who goes? " one asked.

In response, a small, weak voice filled the air. "My name... Is Ryn. "




Writer: Ayzrael

Date Wed Jun 4 10:45:33 2014




Writer: Tahereh

Date Thu Jun 5 22:01:06 2014

To Blaere Nordmaar Cliath Imm RP Religion ( All )

Subject Researching the Past



Where to start was always the question when it came to research. Tahereh
knew very few priests of Cliath, further more even the history of Nordmaar
that far back to creation. She was well aware that Cliath was the patron
God of her homelands, and very aware that All the faiths in Nordmaar could
cause the history to have been lost.

Book after book she searched deeply through every word she could find. She
found transcripts of sermons, notes written alongside of the copies. She
found tales told from older days and read over them with hunger for more
knowledge. She only wished more of the elders of the lands would awaken so
that she could learn more from them.

Her thirst kept her busy, so much so that she had allowed the petty things
to roll off of her shoulders and her focus to return to the duties of being
a small voice for her Lord and a citizen of Nordmaar. Cliaths creation that
had been given to the people, the people whom she had come to love as family
and close friends.

Books in her arms she scampered off to sit upon the Summit and read more
tales from the past in hopes there is great truth in them.





Writer: Rhaskos

Date Thu Jun 5 22:20:48 2014




Writer: Meryna

Date Thu Jun 5 22:39:09 2014

To Verminasia Ilimilipili Ravennaa Rikam All - Imm RP

Subject {{A New Life: Part One}


Through a porthole, starlight and moonlight poured into the Passenger
Suite of the Requiem. The room smelled of polish and the sea, wood and the
faint acrid tingle of the oil lanterns as they burned. Every inch was
lavish - decorated with a lot of high quality furs; nothing was worn out,
nothing was dirty.

Eyes wide open in the half-darkness, Ryn sprawled on her back in the massive
bed and stared past the chandalier to the ceiling. Her ears could pick up
the noise of the waters lapping at the hull of the ship; every creak and
moan was foreign, but intimate. She knew these noises in the daylight,
having made many trips aboard the Sea Quest to the continent of Althainia,
but at night...

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, the young child gave a little
hop to reach the floor. She landed with a thud drowned out by the symphony
of the sea and stepped into her new boots, the leather still supple from the
cobbler's oiling. She took a moment to enjoy how they actually fit her and
didn't pinch or let in pebbles to hurt her flesh. Then, antsy - too excited
after the day's events - she opened the door to her temporary place of rest,
slipping out into the corridor.

Eyes used to the inky, hazy darkness of Verminasia's streets, Ryn had no
problem finding her way out of the halls and out onto the deck. A cloud,
wisp thin, drifted over the moon and a warm summer breeze swept over the
deck. Moving to the railing, she climbed up and sat down, letting her
skinny legs swing back and forth in time to the rhythm of the ocean. In the
soothing darkness, assured of her privacy, she let a smile tug at her lips,
no longre cracked or dried.

She had cried.

She had cried with so much force she thought she was going to fall apart.
Her chest had hurt so much she had thought maybe it didn't want to be part
of her anymore. Her tears had blinded her, and she had struggled to breathe
to the point she had shaken and shuddered, gasping. By the time her tears
dried up, and she realized she was being held and comforted, she hadn't the
strength left to put on a false bravado.

She missed her friend terribly.

Against her sternum she could feel the warmth of the dented bronze tag. Her
small fingers reached up to cradle the metal like a precious token.

"Schnaps, " she whispered, wetting her lips. She didn't think talking to
dead things was going to get her anywhere, but she kept going. "It ain't
quite our dream. Not yet. But I think I can get there, now. It ain't the
same. Not without ye. But I ain't gonna give up, now. Ye probably
wouldn't even recognize me. I'm All cleaned up - no more stinkin', no more
rotten clothes. Got some real work, an' them ladies ain't so bad... Pretty
nice actually, specially to an urchin like me, eh?
"

Pausing to take a breath, because she felt tears forming again, Ryn decided
to hurry up. It was as if a sudden, heavy blanket were pulled over her head
and when she got older she would understand the effects of the sea and the
sun.

"Figure... Well, figure I ain't gonna think too much too far yet. Jus'
wanted ye t'know I ain't forgot ye, or what I always promised ye.
"

Not sure what else to say, Ryn spun about on her bottom and hopped back down
to the deck.




Writer: Meryna

Date Thu Jun 5 23:03:03 2014

To Verminasia Ilimilipili Ravennaa Rikam All - Imm RP

Subject {{A New Life: Part Two}


Eventhough she was tired, her eyes protesting against every opening, she
couldn't sleep. The moons had finished their ascent into the sky a full
candlemark past. As the celestial orbs began their languid descent toward
the horizon, Ryn tossed and turned. Her mind wouldn't give her any peace.
She haved the annoyed sigh of a child and sat up again.

Her mind was whirling with fantastical dreams of ostriches in ostentatious
hats, pirates and their loud explosions; she fantasized about mountains of
gleaming treasures and hidden islands full of All sorts of exciting dangers.
She thought about riding dolphins and walking along beaches decorated with
giant chocolate animals; imagined what it would be like to ride inside the
crow's nest against a giant sea monster.

It was overwhelming.

Crawling to the side of the bed, Ryn dipped a hand into her new pouch and
fished about until her fingers closed around something small, cool, and
round. Sitting back down in the center of the bed, she crossed her legs and
opened her fingers, looking at the beautiful pearl that rolled about in her
palms. It had been a gift from the Navigator - the woman that had jumped
from the railing of the crow's nest into the ocean; a reward for following
without hesitation. Eventhough she couldn't swim. Hadn't even thought
about it at the time. She had only known her pride had been challenged, and
it had looked like fun. Until she had started inhaling half of the Salts,
as she liked to call the oceans.

The little pearl had been her first real gift. It had some value, she
thought. The nobles often wore them as jewelry to show off how important
they were. How pompous they were was more like it. With care, she returend
the pearl to her pouch and let her head come back to rest on the fluffiest
pillow she had never been able to imagine.

With the acceptance of a child, it did not seem strange to her that one day
she slept with pigs, and another she slept in a bed fit enough for nobility.
She did not bemoan the forced baths, and the itchiness of the new clothes
was slowly fading. A fully stomach, lack of thirst, and a minimal sense of
security stretched leagues.

With a yawn, Ryn rolled onto her side and snuggled down under the sheets.

So she would have to learn some manners. As Susan had pointed out, it
didn't always mean people deserved it, but it would make them like you more.
So she would have to stop spitting at and taunting folks - or at least any
that belonged to the Armada - but if it meant learning to sail, and how to
be a pirate, or a swashbuckler, she would do it. So she would one day have
to enter the Walls, and Laws, but it was a price she would pay to one day
have her own ship, and the freedom that came with it.

Before she had realized it, Ryn fell asleep.

And dreamed of ostriches in ostentatious hats.




Writer: Demyan

Date Fri Jun 6 13:13:27 2014




Writer: Lovedaia

Date Fri Jun 6 23:00:38 2014




Writer: Stugl

Date Sat Jun 7 10:22:17 2014




Writer: Meryna

Date Sat Jun 7 15:17:24 2014

To Verminasia Ilimilipili Ravennaa Rikam Dahakon Velok Liviya All - Imm RP

Subject {{It Takes a Village: Part One}


Afternoons, Ryn was finding, were often a lazy affair. The city streets
had slowed in traffic as nobles and peasants alike sought the cooler shelter
of indoors. Sunlight baking the cobblestones left a bit of a stench no
matter which city you were in. With the lack of targets out and about,
meaning fewer scores and a higher liklihood of getting caught, even the
beggars and urchins tended to use the time to nap or find other things to
do.

The once urchin, now Cabin Girl of the Crimson Armada, scowled as her tutor
slaped her across the knuckles with a stick she called a ruler. The wicked
little piece of wood was long and flat, scored with little lines and
numbers, and left one hell of a sting every time it cracked across her
knuckles.

"Pay attention, " the woman hissed, her pinched face tightening up further
with anger.

Ryn dared nut rub her red or aching knuckles. The first time she had, she'd
been whacked again. She also fought down the sigh of frustration that
threatened to bubble up. She forced a sweet smile on her lips and chimed,
"Aye, missus Coppersworth. "

Placated for the moment, the woman nodded and went back to drawing on a
large, black board with something she called chalk. Dutifully, Ryn dipped
her quill into her ink bottle - made from a human skull - and crudely drew
the letter, chiming out its name as she finished. They were currently on
something called a "G" and All Ryn wanted to do was head back to the ships.
Bugger with learning to read and write.

Next was the "H".

Earlier that morning, the young girl had woken up before the sun. She had
pulled on her clothes and made her way to the ships, her recently awarded
badge granting her entrance. Then, she had spent til full sun up cleaning -
she had scrubbed, and swabbed, washed pots and pans, learned to shuck off
barnacles from the hull and how to tidy and store any stray finds.
Sweating, exhausted, she had walked down the gangplank and washed up only to
be greeted by the orc, Velok, and her mentor, Susan.

The lessons had proceeded, starting with manners. As Susan guided her
around, accompanied by a man in dark armor named Valdin, Ryn had been
instructed in the fine, deceitful arts of manners. A smile here, a
compliment there, a sarcastic comment said with the dripping honey of
sweetness there. It was All a big bother and she still didn't quite
understand being polite to arsehats and gits. If it was what would get her
where she wanted, though, she'd learn to do it.

The ruler cracked on her knuckles again, and Ryn wasn't surprised to see a
bit of blood this time. She didn't know what was worse: manners, or
letters.

"Sorry, missus Coppersworth, " she chimed and spent the next few minutes
apologizing, promising she'd pay more attention. The woman sufficiantly
placated, Ryn went back to copying and reciting letters. Only when they had
ended with the letter called "Z", and gone through numbers zero to nine, did
the fussy old prune let Ryn leave.

She had to come back the next day with three copies of her finished page.
Bugger.

As she left the temple and made her way back inside Verminasia, a decidedly
happy thought filled the young girl.

"Least we cin go pick on t'Bishop, now, eh? " she asked of her warg.




Writer: Meryna

Date Sat Jun 7 15:35:39 2014

To Verminasia Ilimilipili Ravennaa Rikam Dahakon Velok Liviya All - Imm RP

Subject {{It Takes a Village: Part Two} - AKA: Ostrich Operations


Unable to stop giggling, her laughter making the large, ugly bird squawk
and fluff, Ryn guided the ostrich toward Verminasia by a lead rope. The
gnome keeping the birds had eyed the girl with serious doubt, but her
lessons in manners had seemed to pay off. A few cute faces and sweet
smiles, a couple empty promises to take good care of the long-necked
creature, and a couple extra coins had worked perfectly. The bird, at
first, had been perfectly fine with its new owner, but the second a bright
yellow wig, with a flamboyant peacock feather sticking out of it, had been
plopped on its head things had gone a little awry.

If it hadn't been for the warg growling and snapping at the ostrich's heels,
they probably wouldn't have gotten very far. Especially with Ryn giggling
every single time the bird made an indignant noise, fluffed its useless
wings, or tried to peck her.

With care, Ryn guided the bird inside the city, leading it up the main
street toward the temple. Finally, somehow managing to sneak the
ostentatiously adorned bird, the little trio arrived inside the Church. A
little red in the face from trying to be quiet, Ryn tied the ostrich in
place and looked around. She finally spotted exactly what she wanted and
picked up the holy icon, using her own belt to tie it around the ostrich's
neck.

Her plan made, Ryn took a moment to calm herself and then went in search of
Bishop Dahakon Kensey, priest of Mencius, Voice of Rage.

While she spent time searching the city for the man, her new companion at
her side, Ryn thought back to her recent conversations and adventures. She
had gone on her first Armada sail, working the anchor - or trying to as she
was still too small, tending the sails, firing cannons. She had made her
first attempt to kill the orc Velok. It had gone rather poorly as the beast
of a creature had simply shaken her off, laughing, but the dagger in his arm
had been encouraging to her. She'd met a few nobles that had actually given
her coin, or gem, and encouraged her knack for mischief, which had led to a
few debacles with OTHER nobles and half rotting foods. Then there had been
the water fight, and visiting the Pirate Cove. Her heart raced as she
thought about the golden pistol that would one day be her personal weapon.
She also smiled as she thought about the navy blue jacket she'd found. The
"woman" who had sold it to her said it had come off a dead Arkanian sailor.

And that, of course, is also where the wig had come from - and the plot for
its use.

Coming out of her reverie, Ryn was just in time to see the Bishop heading
north toward the temples, and the church. Qith a quick burst of speed, she
ran to catch up to the man. She'd be sore put out if she missed the man
finding her prank. The faces he made were simply to die for.




Writer: Demyan

Date Sun Jun 8 00:12:58 2014




Writer: Isabel

Date Sun Jun 8 03:57:19 2014

To Justice All ( Roleplay Immortal Austinian Religion Nazca )

Subject The Priestess: Beginnings [Part III]


The Abbot's words still lingered in her mind though it had been long
since they had spoke. This would not be an effortless path and patience was
essential. It would be easy to become discouraged. Isabel shook her head
adamantly to herself. No, she would not become discouraged. If her lessons
in meditation had taught her anything at all, it was patience and endurance
even when progress seemed entirely out of her grasp.

She had committed herself to long hours of study and training. It was not
enough to bury one's nose in books. Each venture beyond the safety of the
Wrath's walls was an exercise that tested her mental and physical limits.
And All the while, her thoughts were centered around her faith. It brought
her calm in the midst of each battle. Her prayers for wisdom did not go
unanswered. She would lend what gifts the Father of Light had given her to
her comrades so that they may succeed in their endeavors. In doing so, she
found that she too was blessed. Her heart was gladdened that she could
serve in this way. She would not be an idle bystander as evil threatened to
destroy All that was dear to her.

Each day brought her new hope and courage for the future. She was unable to
hide the happiness that filled her as she embraced the Father's blessings.
It spilled over into her daily interactions with her friends and allies
alike. While there are times to remain solemn and serious, she knew there
were also times when a smile could bring more encouragement than wise words
alone. Much as words have the power to destroy, they also have the power
to uplift and with a smile, spread happiness and joy into the heart of the
receiver.

Isabel knelt then, her hands folded as they rested on the pew in front of
her. With her eyes closed, she began to whisper a prayer to Austinian.
There was a single thought most pervading her mind as she laid what was
burdening her soul before her god: may there never come a day that would see
her unable to share happiness, hope, and Light with the world.




Writer: Dahakon

Date Sun Jun 8 16:40:48 2014




Writer: Ilimilipili

Date Mon Jun 9 14:01:21 2014

To All Meryna Valana Ravennaa Rikam Verminasia

Subject Family.



Emerald eyes more accustomed to sparkling joviality than broodiness gazed
out over the open sea, unseeing. Ilimilipili's mind was lost in thoughts
most uncommon to her, thoughts filled with nostalgia and regrets --- and
perhaps even a small hint of remorse, somewhere amidst the rest of that
tumultuous tangle of emotions. She wished she could honestly proclaim
ignorance of the mood's genesis, but a single phrase summed it up too
simply, too boldly, for her to be unaware:

They had given her a child. A daughter.

It was... A strange thing, to say the least. She had started as a
vagabond, a traveling minstrel. Finding her own family within the Armada's
loving embrace had been strange. Becoming a captain, after a long and
bloody rivalry with another had been strange. People relying on her day in
and day out... Strange.

She was beginning to feel, somewhere in her most secret heart, that the word
strange was finally beginning to lose its meaning, its worth. They had
given her a daughter. Someone to look after, to raise... To teach.

Someone wanted her to teach a child how to behave. How...

Odd? Queer? Unusual? Unthinkable?

And yet... Such had become her life. Teaching the little thing how to
sail, trying not to threaten it with drowning, or her usual choice of
punishments for sailors. Encouraging it.

Her, she corrected herself. Encouraging her.

Several times, she had caught herself spoiling the child, giving it bits of
kenderflesh and brain between meals --- and occasionally even pie or tarts.
It was distracting. Distressing, really. She could hear the girl beginning
to wake, banging about as she rambunctiously ran about the ship, attempting
to clean --- still doing better than most of the swabbies, even at her age.
If left to her own devices, Ryn would see to it that the ship got cleaned;
the blood scoured from the decks, the rails polished, and All the busy work
done.

It was time for lessons.




Writer: Meryna

Date Mon Jun 9 16:02:39 2014

To Verminasia All - Imm RP

Subject {{Blame It On Vodka: Part One}


Summer presented itself with a merciless wave of heat that cracked the
earth and made the air look hazy. After the third day of this continuous
sort of weather, Ryn decided she'd had enough. So, gathering up a small
basket of light foods and a bottle she filled with fresh water, she left her
quarters on the Requiem and made her way into town, her faithful warg at her
side.

As the two strolled along, a few heads turned in their directions. There
were the usual scowls, but with the passing days and weeks - and with the
application of "manners" - more and more people had begun to smile and wave
when they recognized her. Even so, the large albino creature that kept
pace, panting, at her side earned more than his share of dubious studies.
It suited Ryn just fine.

The sun hadn't broken the high point in the day as the pair exited
Verminasia and continued southward toward the city of Arkane. Now and then,
Ryn would have to stop as her warg sniffed about and made his mark on
things, seeming a little more satisfied with every spot he tainted in
passing. Remembering the party from recently, Ryn put her lips together and
started whistling, recreating the bird-like melody the ariel Fynix had
played best she could.

As they entered Arkane, Ryn quickly slid into the shadows, lightening her
steps as she kept a furtive eye out. She had come to accept that while fun
could be found in Verminasia no matter what, it was best if you kept
yourself discrete elsewhere. Folks tended to be a bit "curmudgeonly" about
her particular brand of fun, as the Queen had introduced her to the word.
The pair continued along until reaching the Town Center and paused there.
Both human and warg helped themselves to a drink from the fountain and at
the expense of a passing minotaur had a bit of fun.

"Golly-gee, mister! " she cooed over the hulking creature, pointing up at
his rather lethal looking horns. "How'd ye get those amazin' things on yer
head?
" Putting on her most disarming smile, the young child inwardly
celebrated the absolutely baffled expression of the minotaur.

"Have you never seen the proud race of minotaur, child? " the creature
questioned her, peering down with eyes black as coal from a height that
would intimidate most. Ryn simply kept smiling sweetly.

"Nuh uh, " she responded with a shake of her head, her short red hair
sliding around her head in a silky manner. The past few weeks of good food,
hard work, and rest had done her very well, resulting in not only a glow of
health and a less scraggly appearance, but also a sharpening of her wit and
her ability to move and think quickly on her feet.

That was why as the minotaur began to talk about his race with an arrogance
nearly unsurpassable, he missed the quick gesture the child gave her warg.
The albino creature crawled into the fountain, soaking himself good in its
waters, and hopped lithely back out, trotting behind the minotaur.

She waited until the heat of the day started to create a real good stank
from the warg, distracting the minotaur from his elongated and self-praising
speech. That was when she gasped loudly and rushed forward.

"Look out, mister! "

The minotaur picked up a foot to turn around. At that moment, Ryn slammed
into him with All of her strength, putting her shoulder into it. Normally,
she wouldn't even budge a creature of the minotaur's size, but her warg
aided her, mirroring her from the other side to get the knee joint of the
minotaur's supporting leg.




Writer: Meryna

Date Mon Jun 9 16:18:28 2014

To Verminasia All - Imm RP

Subject {{Blame It On Vodka: Part Two}


As minotaur and child went tumbling, one in utter shock and the other
reaching for a loose coin purse, the warg continued his forward motion
beneath the minotaur, escaping on the other side. Thankfully unharmed,
because Ryn would later on swear that the minotaur had created a quake that
rattled the entire town center.

With the bounce, the coin purse was slid into a hidden pocket inside the
child's jacket.

With the final landing, she scrambled up and rushed up to the minotaur's
head, staring down at him All wide-eyed innocence and concern.

"Are ye a'ight, mister!? He were goin' fer yer leg! " she declared of the
animal, pointing an accusing finger in the wrong direction the warg had
gone.

The minotaur sat himself up and got to his hooves, glaring around as he
wrapped his hand around a vicious looking morning star hanging at his hip.

"Where did the creature go, child? I shall make certain it pays for this
most egregious transgression!
" he nearly bellowed.

Using her most humble voice, making her eyes tear up and a hint of fear
catch her voice, she indicated the Bleeding Hearts Lounge. "In there,
mister! Ye shoul' catch 'im afore he hurts anyone!
"

As the minotaur's eyes filled with rage and he stampeded off to right the
wrongs, Ryn waited until no one was looking and then picked her basket up
casually, marching lightly east.

The screams as patrons escaped the minotaur were simply delightful. A pity
she couldn't stick around to watch the chaos.

With time, her warg came trotting after her, grinning in his own way as his
red eyes looked up at his companion. She shared a grin and reached into her
basket, picking out a piece of tinker gnome brains to feed him. He had
turned his nose up at first, but over time, the two had taken to the treat
like it was caramel covered popcorn.

"Good work, eh? " she asked her warg. His response was simply to lick his
jowels after inhaling the morsel of crebrum. Laughing, Ryn patted the beast
on the back and then turned off the main track into a grove of trees.
Slowly, the limbs turned from brown and green to a beautiful purple color
from which the Amethyst Forest had gotten its name.

Before even reaching the clearing to the small swimming hole, laughter -
hushed and somewhat breathless - came from Ryn's right. She paused and
looked down at her warg, arching a brow. The laughter repeated and so the
child carefully hid her basket and then crawled on her belly through the
brush.

With the heat creating an almost unbearable sweat on her, the stench of her
warg would gag those with more prudish sensibilities, but she'd lived in
worse for over a year - had BEEN worse for about half of that. After
crawling several feet, the child and her companion stopped shy of being
visible from inside the thicket, only to spot a pair of scantily clad
adolescents.




Writer: Meryna

Date Mon Jun 9 16:33:19 2014

To Verminasia All - Imm RP

Subject {{Blame It On Vodka: Part Three}


Inside the shady shelter of the hedgegroves, Ryn watched as the kids
several years older than her giggled and spent time necking. Now and then
the boy would whisper something to the girl, and she would blush All pretty
like, giggling in a way Ryn knew. He was either not that funny, or she was
not that bright herself. Nearby to the couple, a large basket full of
sweets was tipped over, a few of the goodies spilled out upon the ground.

Rutting. It was always about bloody rutting with people.

Deciding that this was unacceptable, and too prime of a situation for
mischief, Ryn plopped her chin into her palms and considered her options.

She could throw acorns at them. The dimwits would probably think it was
squirrels, though so that quickly lost its appeal. She could sit there
longer. Vodka's stench, heavy as it was in the heat, would reach their
noses soon enough and probably chase them off. That would go too quick,
though, and she wanted to draw out the fun some. There was the classic of
making the brush shake to scare them while she made bear and orc noises.
Thanks to Velok she'd gotten pretty good at both, but again - she didn't
want to chase them off right away. At least not without something really
GOOD to laugh at.

And that was the moment she spotted it.

On the other side of the small clearing, hanging low in the crook of an oak
branch, was a hornet nest. The grayish, tattered looking bulge barely stood
out compared to the knot it was attached to. If it hadn't been for the
movement of the hornets as they came to and fro, she probably wouldn't have
seen it at all. The opportunity too much for her to bear a truly wicked
smile curled her lips and she inched back little by little.

"Ye stay here, Vodka, " she told the warg. He seemed disinclined to listen,
so Ryn dug the rest of the brains, now a little too warm for her tastes, out
of the basket and left him to lick and gnaw on the chewy organ.

As stealthy as she could be, watching every step and mindful of every place
she put her hands, Ryn worked her way around the clearing. She kept low to
the ground, making sure her profile never rose a bush or a small tree. When
she did accidentally send a bush to quivering, she followed it up
immediately with the warble of a wild turkey. The sound of the boy mumbling
and the girl giggling again was assuring and she kept up the journey.

Finally, dripping with sweat to the point her clothes were plastered to her
body and covered with debris and dirt, she arrived exactly where she wanted
to be. The only problem she hadn't immediately thought about was how to get
the nest down without getting herself stung All to pieces. Watching the
nasty little buggers crawl in and out of their home, the idea came to her
almost immediatly.

With care to not giggle, Ryn started looking for exactly what she would
need.




Writer: Meryna

Date Mon Jun 9 16:56:02 2014

To Verminasia All - Imm RP

Subject {{Blame It On Vodka: Part Four}


About ten minutes later, right were Ryn had been, an unrecognizable
creature of pond mud and muck slowly stretched out a long branch with a fork
to support the nest and then climbed her way up the tree. Using her almost
nonexistent weight, she scooched out along the tree, careful not to anger or
rile up the insects inside their home. She pulled her dagger from her boot
and had to fight to get some grip on the hilt. Satisfied, she reached down
and with the greatest of care, sawed through the connection that held the
nest to the tree. The entire time, she held her breath as a few hornets
checked out her hands, but couldn't find anywhere to sting. Then, it was
done and her supporting branch held, keeping the lantern-like hornet home in
place.

Trying not to grin so the hornets wouldn't find her mouth, she inched her
way back and down the tree.

She gathered up a few acorns after reaching the ground and made sure to
cover her tracks as she moved into position. Then, with the perfect mimic
of a squirrel chitter, she pitched an acorn at the pair of adolescents still
engrossed in their necking session.

"EEP! " the girl cried as the nut nailed her in the leg. "What was that,
Jesse?
"

"Aww, calm down, babe. It was probably just a squirrel, " the boy claimed,
his voice breaking just slightly with puberty.

Before they could get too relaxed, Ryn through another acorn and made
another squirrel noise, this time a little angrier.

"OUCH! " the girl complained this time and Ryn could just make out the pair
as the girl pushed at the boy. "Can't you do anything about it, Jesse?
That hurt!
"

"What do you want me to do about it? " the boy retorted, getting a little
miffed in tone that his necking was getting ruined. Ryn threw the last
acorn, making another chattering sound, and keeping it up.

"Look, " the girl said, pointing at the stick that was sticking up over the
brush. "Use that stick and chase it off! Oh please, Jesse! " Then, with a
bit of a coy smile - one that made the ten year old roll her eyes - the girl
tacked on, "I'll let you see them. "

She definitely didn't want to know what "them" was and made another loud
chittering sound.

"Alright, alright... I'll go chase off the squirrel, " the boy groused,
getting up with a heavy sigh. Once he was up, he struck a heroic pose for
the girl, who giggled and fawned sickeningly, but it was the moment Ryn had
waited for. Carefully scooting back into her hiding spot, she made sure to
go very still and breathe as little as possible.

"All this trouble for a stupid squirrel, " the boy muttered as he moved the
short way into the woods and, without looking up, grabbed hold of the stick,
yanking it hard.

The hornet nest het the ground and shattered.

The look on the boy's face was priceless as he realized what he'd done, and
the girlish squeal of terror was even better.




Writer: Meryna

Date Mon Jun 9 17:16:06 2014

To Verminasia All - Imm RP

Subject {{Blame It On Vodka: Part Five - Final}


As the hornets regained their wits from the fall of their home and
started to swarm out of the remains, the boy dropped teh stick and started
to turn tail. Inhumanly angry buzzing filled the air as a black mass of
moving stingers rose up and went after the first available thing around -
namely the boy. He screamed as their stingers hit his flesh so unprotected
by his nearly naked status. As he broke the wood line, the girl started to
scream, too, swatting and crying in horror at the little insects as they
struck without mercy. Tripping, stumbling, leaving everything behind as the
two fought to get away faster than the other, they only slowed each other
down. By the time the pair exited the clearing in the other direction they
were unrecognizable swells of red bumps.

Their screams echoed for miles and minutes as they crashed - half naked -
through the forest, trying to escape their nemesis hornets.

Giggling wildly, Ryn made sure to inch away from her hiding spot carefully
as there were still hornets buzzing about. When she finally reached Vodka,
she was in full, hooting laughter as she grinned. Caked in mud, only her
white teeth and sparkling hazel eyes were visible, but even so the warg
wagged his tail at the sight of two baskets, rather than one. The child had
stopped to pick up the hard one goodies, and the two moved on to the pond
together where they feasted and swam the rest of the lazy afternoon away.

Waking up some time later, the sun painting the sky for sunset, Ryn
scratched at a persistent itch on her leg. Then her arm. Then her neck.
And back to her leg.

Frowning, she realized her skin was a little bumpy in the areas she
scratched, but the twilight made it almost impossible to figure out what it
was. Gathering up her things and calling Vodka to her, she slid up onto the
beasts back and gave him the command to run. It wouldn't do for her to be
late to supper.

All through dinner, Ryn itched and obligingly scratched. Several of her
fellow Cabin Kids and a few of the Swabbies gave her strange looks, but she
ignored them, tossing a few haughty looks toward some of the more persistent
ones that stared.

That night, the young child slept horribly. She tossed and turned, her skin
hurting a bit from All the scratching she was doing. She had opened up a
few spots, making them ooze something and even bleed a bit, but the itching
was driving her utterly mad.

When morning finally came, she attended her duties more sourly than normal,
exhausted. She'd given up on scratching. The red patches only got worse
when she did that. After breakfast, which came after cleaning chores, she
made her way to Susan's room and knocked, eager to tell her mentor All about
her prank the day before despite her condition.

By the end of her story, her mentor's eyes were dancing with laughter, which
came out as familiar, sweet-toned giggles.

"Dear, why are you scratching like that?" The beautiful dark elf asked her.

"I can' stop itching, " the child confided, her voice a bity whining with
desperation for relief. She stood still to let the Armada's songbird
examine the redness and the bumps. She was then greeted with an explanation
of Poison Ivy.

Her mouth fell open.

"What'm I gonna do? " she asked Susan.

With her natural laughter, the woman responded.

"I suppose you will simply have to blame it on Vodka, dear. "




Writer: Ashlen

Date Mon Jun 9 18:53:59 2014




Writer: Rikam

Date Tue Jun 10 12:30:25 2014




Writer: Elrei

Date Tue Jun 10 20:40:58 2014

To All Arreana Aliera Taliena ( Imm RP )

Subject Black Sheep



"... None of us here is fit to judge the other, let alone how we live
out our faith...
"

Elrei had not felt so targeted by a lesson since his days in Shalonesti.
He had gone to the joint sermon by Her Imperial Highness Aliera Snowdragon
and Bishop Arreana, hoping to find some measure of peace, of hope, which had
been in short supply of late. Instead, he felt as though he was being
singled out as a troublemaker.

"... I call you to unite as a Church of Light... To set aside any personal
prejudice and to be a family, as our gods are.
"

Unity at any cost, that is what was being preached here. Ignore the
failings of those around you, pretend they don't exist.

"We must be willing to put aside our differences. We must align our goals
and reaffirm that which we are fighting for... Philosophical differences
and disagreements are a luxury that can only be afforded in times of peace.
We are at war.
"

Yet ancient wisdom dictated that in times of war, one should prepare for
peace. If the home is ignored in time of war and allowed to fall into
disrepair, what is it those at the front of that war are fighting to
protect? What is it they will return home to find, at its end?

"The specifics may cause debate, but that debate is best reserved for a time
and a place when the world is at peace and we can engage in friendly
discourse.
"

In All his years, Elrei had never seen the entire world at true peace.
By such words, the Bishop essentially had stated that there would never be
such a debate, that the lessons and teachings which any given individual had
to offer would be shelved indefinitely, and that any discrepancies which
might be remedied by having them shared must be ignored.

"If you have heard what I have said here tonight, what has been said by
Aliera. If these words have any meaning to you, then you will know we have
a lot of work ahead of us. But, at the very least, we will better know what
we need to specifically do.
"

Yes, Elrei was certainly coming to acknowledge what he, specifically,
needed to do. It pained him, but he had not lied when he told his Goddess
he would be willing to do it. As another old wisdom went, one must either
lead, or follow...

Or get out of the way.




Writer: Casiella

Date Tue Jun 10 20:54:31 2014




Writer: Oszen

Date Tue Jun 10 21:22:54 2014




Writer: Orlen

Date Wed Jun 11 07:18:25 2014

To All Abaddon Imm ( Fatale ) Zypher

Subject Still Standing



"Blood is His Path. Murder is His Way. Death is His Will. Loss is His
Gift.
"

Orlen Aingar rubbed his chin as he repeated that line over and over. He
felt an unexplainable sense of pride at that specific line, as if it was the
accumulation of All his knowledge of Fatale, poured into words.

The Count set down the parchement with the revised Tenets Phaere and he
worked and leaned back on his chair, in his office aboard the Deliverance.


Involuntarily, his hands clasped into one another, the gauntleted hands
covering the unarmored one in its death grip. He paid no mind to these
apparations anymore.

A small smile crept to his fine, although not so young anymore, features.
In the land of Dragons and Ghosts, Vampires and Assassins, he was still
standing.

He pondered the meaning of Fatale's visions to Phaere, and brushed aside the
immediate feeling of competition. As Dfedor, the Monsignor of Fatale said,
Abaddon is Orlen's, while the Church belongs to All His priests.

With that understanding, his hands parted, freeing him from his internal
turmoil. For now. He knew the price to pay for becoming the Count. He
knew how much more weight he has added upon himself for becoming His priest
as well.

But that was his destiny. His calling, and the only way he knew how to
live. He was born to serve and lead, such an odd combination, and in
Abaddon, he has found both.

The Count pushed himself up, gathering the parchment and noticing the
stockpile of many other missives that awaited his attention with a frown,
and a shake of his head against the incessant whispers of the fragments in
his head.

'No. Tonight, I am Orlen Aingar. Not the Count, nor the Priest, nor the
Warrior.
' With that, he retired to his chambers, slipping into bed to
engulf himself in the warmth of another.




Writer: Isabel

Date Thu Jun 12 11:09:25 2014

To Justice All ( Roleplay Immortal Austinian Religion )

Subject The Priestess: Beginnings [Part IV]


The sun had not yet risen as the first morning cries of the seabirds
began to stir Isabel from her sleep. Their cheerful songs -- the greeting
of a new day -- always woke her earlier than she would like. With a yawn,
she pulled back her sheets and stepped out of her bed onto the cool floor.
Other than the feathered sirens outside, there were no sounds she could
detect. Her fellow soldiers were still sleeping, most likely. Shivering
away from the warmth of her bed, Isabel hurriedly changed out of her thin
cotton nightgown into her usual, and thicker robes. She glanced into a
mirror for a moment, smoothing a few stray strands of hair, before putting
on her boots and lacing them tightly. She didn't bother to stoke the coals
in the hearth as she had other matters to attend to this morning. She
glanced at a small brown bag bulging with something inside it. Pinching her
cheeks once to help wake herself, she grabbed the bag and walked briskly
down the staircase to go find Ingraine in the kitchen. If no one else, she
knew at least the cook would be awake at this hour.

--+---+---+---+--

Isabel was not disappointed. Long before she even made it to the kitchen,
the wafting smell of freshly fried chocobo eggs reached her. She inhaled
the mouth watering scent briefly as her stomach growled it's demands. With
a smile, she knocked gently on the entryway as she stepped into the kitchen
and leaned over the counter to wave to the plump woman frying eggs in a pan
on the hot stove. Ingraine waved back to her, beaming a warm smile. "What
did you bring me today, Bells?" The cook held out her free hand expectantly
and chuckled. She and Isabel had come to an understanding one morning when
Ingraine had run out of rosemary and had not been in the best of moods. In
exchange for her breakfast, she would ask Isabel to bring her various
foodstuffs. Sometimes, she had a particular request. But more often than
not, she wanted Isabel to surprise her with things she might come across in
her travels outside of the Wrath's walls. "Oh, you know I would not forget.
I'm a woman of my word." Isabel giggled gently and lifted the brown leather
bag onto the counter. She opened the flap to reveal a tapered glass bottle
holding a dark reddish liquid. "Here, try this. I heard a splash or two
will give your steaks an excellent flavor." Ingraine laughed jovially,
taking the bottle of wine with a wink before stowing it in one of the many
cupboards. "I will make us both steaks with this tonight." Isabel smiled
gently at the cook. "I'll be looking forward to it. But for now..." Her
voice trailed off as her cerulean gaze wandered over toward the eggs waiting
in the pan. "Oh, bless my stars! Yes, your eggs." Ingraine bustled over
to the other side of the kitchen to fetch a clean plate. She piled the
chocobo eggs onto the dish and handed the delicious steaming meal to Isabel.
The priestess withdrew a silver fork from the small pouch at her waist as
she tipped her head in respect to Ingraine. She tried to eat slowly but
they were always so light and fluffy. After scraping the last bits from her
plate, she wiped off her fork with a napkin and put it away, setting the now
empty plate back on the counter. "Thank you. As always, my compliments to
the chef." Ingraine laughed again and teasingly waved her ladle at Isabel,
shooing her out of the kitchen. Isabel looked at her in mock terror and
fled the room with a small laugh.




Writer: Isabel

Date Thu Jun 12 11:15:26 2014

To Branzol Justice All ( Roleplay Immortal Austinian Religion )

Subject The Priestess: Beginnings [Part V]


With her hunger quelled, Isabel made her way through the hallway and back
up the stairs. She flexed her arm, testing it's strength. Hopefully she
wouldn't need to make too many trips from her vault to the foundry. Inside
the vault room, the light was dimmer, glowing from the illumination that
came from the room below. She stood on tiptoe as she looked through her
things. With a satsified nod, she pulled out a sturdy sack from the top
shelf and began to fill it with pieces of copper ore. When it could hold no
more, she tied off the sack and lugged it down the spiral staircase slowly
as to not trip and go tumbling down the steps. The ore was heavy but she
managed. She sighed as she set the heavy sack down near the large furnace
that roared at the center of the room. It burned with a strange, blue fire
that always entranced her if she gazed at it for too long. It was a thing
of beauty, this monument to tinker gnome ingenuity. Isabel watched the
mechanical bellows as they fed the flames, keeping the furnace glowing hot.
Yes, it was beautiful. She smiled to herself and picked up a metal pan,
setting it beside the sack. After arranging large pieces of the copper ore
on the pan, she walked over to the rack near the bellows and took a leather
apron off of one of the hooks. One could never be too careful around molten
metals. It was a bit large on her small frame but it would do. Isabel
selected a sturdy hammer from the rack and went back over to the pan full of
copper ore. She swung the hammer repeatedly, crushing the ore into tinier
pieces. They needed to be relatively uniform in size but not powdered. Her
muscles ached from the weight and motion of the tool but she continued on,
ignoring the dull pain. It would take some practice but she knew her body
would eventually adjust.

She wiped her brow as she finished crushing the ore, stretching her arms
over her head for a moment. She took the hammer back to the rack and put it
in it's proper place before choosing one of the graphite crucibles and a set
of large hooked tongs that were among the other smelting implements.
Kneeling beside the pan, she scooped the bits of copper ore into the
crucible. With a steady hand, she lifted the crucible with the tongs and
carried it over to the furnace, setting it down gently in the center where
the furnace burned hottest. Isabel stood off to the side, keeping an eye on
the ore as it began to roast in the heat. This part of the process felt as
though it took forever and her thoughts started to wander as she stared, her
bright cerulean eyes becoming unfocused as they looked at nothing in
particular. In her mind, she relived the the conversation she had with the
Executor the evening she was promoted, no longer a recruit but a full
fledged soldier. She had asked him how she might be of more help to those
of Justice. Some she knew crafted gems. Some of them made armor. He had
mentioned smelting, among a few others. And she remembered deciding to
herself that night, quite adamantly so, that she would take up smelting. It
was not easy work. But ease was not her concern. Being useful to her
fellow soldiers was. The Executor had been supportive of her choice. He
had even helped her acquire the ore she now placed into the furnace. She
had thanked him for his generosity but she hoped that she could repay his
kindness one day and in turn, do the same for another.




Writer: Isabel

Date Thu Jun 12 11:19:21 2014

To Justice All ( Roleplay Immortal Austinian Religion )

Subject The Priestess: Beginnings [Part VI]


Isabel blinked then, her eyes refocusing on the work at hand. The ore
was beginning to transform. She waited patiently, knowing that she did not
want to take it from the furnace too soon. She used a skimming spoon from
the rack to remove some of the slag from the top of the mixture as it
appeared, not wanting the impurities to ruin the finished product. Once she
was satisfied it was thoroughly molten and as pure as she would be able to
manage, she placed the solid tongs into the heat of the furnace, hooking the
ends gently around the crucible. A mould for making solid bars had already
been set up for her on a table not far away. She carried the crucible
slowly over to it, tipping it with care as she filled the casting shapes
with the precious molten material. It would be a couple of hours before the
bars were ready to be removed from their castings. She spent the time she
must wait putting away the apparatuses she had taken from the rack, making
certain they were arranged properly so they would be ready the next time
they were needed. Isabel took a deep breath then, perching herself on a
stool. She smiled to herself and pulled out the amulet that lay hidden
beneath the leather apron she still wore. As she held it in her hand, she
began to pray. "Father Austinian, you have blessed me more than I might
ever have imagined. Please help me be a blessing to others. Whether that
is as a smelter, a priestess, a soldier, or as a friend. Continue to guide
the decisions that I make as I walk the path you have laid before me."

She lowered her head and gently pressed her lips to the symbol upon the
amulet before whispering a soft "Amen." She sat there on the stool for some
time meditating as she waited awhile longer for the metals to cool. Finally,
she stood and made her way over to the mould. The bronze gleamed in it's
castings, completely cooled and of a high quality in purity. Isabel smiled.
This was another new day for her, the next step in her journey. She took
the bars from the mould one by one before carrying her precious cargo back
up the stairs to her vault where they would be saved for one who had need of
them.




Writer: Amyth'lynn

Date Thu Jun 12 18:23:00 2014




Writer: Liviya

Date Fri Jun 13 01:08:38 2014

To Necrucifer ( Verminasia All Imm Religion Kyri )

Subject Designs on a Mission



Liviya was, to put it nicely, not very artistically inclined. As
a child, she had been devoted to study and worship, and she had
thus missed the crucial years for seeing rough geometric blobs
evolve into the work of a practiced hand.

Still, lack of talent aside, a singular obsession had gripped her
since the day she took up the cloth, now most of her lifetime ago.
The lower drawers of the desk in her library housed a collection
of sketchbooks, All of them worn and filled with the scribbles and
drawings of an ambitious priestess not accustomed to being told no:
design after design after meticulous design for possible future
temples.

Building them had been forbidden since before she was born, for
reasons she had never understood but dared not question. Now, the
rules had changed. Now some of the things in her treasured books
of doodles could come to fruition.

Narrowing down which designs to incorporate in the mission she was
to build was the hardest part, though the regulations that came
with the reintroduction of temples did some of that work for her.
The Pantheon Cathedral, with its rich and diverse symbolism, was
still not to be. These new temples were havens where followers of
a single faith could gather. It didn't do much for Unity, rather
to her dismay, but focusing on her own flock was something she
perhaps too often neglected.

So instead, she collected from her sketches rooms designed to teach
specific lessons of the Master's faith. She had to narrow it down
to three. Most priests would have appended the words 'for now' to
that thought, but Liviya was growing old and tired and no longer
had the energy to covet rank, even had she been stupid enough to
continue to do so after being struck by Lazerus Talmont for it.

From her sketches, she chose her three favorite rooms. For the main
shrine, a design that honored the lore she drew upon so heavily in
teaching His faith: that His blood entered the waters of Algoron
and gave mortalkind Evil, and thus free will. For the second room,
a library, where the knowledge of faith of those who came before
her- and those who would come after- could be collected and studied
without the bias that came from using Storm Keep's archives. And
lastly, a room for meditation, one of true, deep blackness where
the faithful could reflect upon the Darkness, the mystical truths
of it that made it so much greater than a euphemism.

She copied the designs from her sketchbooks onto a new, clean bit
of parchment to submit to the builders. As she dutifully made each
line, she felt tears rise unbidden to her eyes. A lifelong labor
of love would see fruition. She knew the Master might not even
care that a new temple had been built- He had others, after all.

Yet to Liviya, it meant everything. She loved Necrucifer. It was
the only love within her not twisted by selfishness or ulterior
motives. And now she could build Him the monument she had always
wanted to give Him.

Pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes to sweep away her
tears, she lowered her head to pray to Him. 'Master Necrucifer,
Father of All Darkness, I have chosen from my designs those to
make a temple unto Thee, where Thy faithful may find respite and
learning, and where Thee and Thee alone will be praised, now and
forever. Amen.
'




Writer: Rikam

Date Fri Jun 13 16:01:06 2014

To Verminasia All rp

Subject The End of Fear



A world of paradoxes and contradictions and absolutely hilarious ironies
rolled and folded and crashed about inside Rikam Oneiroi's head. He sat
quietly in his office and stared across the room at the object hung there.
Cold, gleaming, unimaginably strong and impossibly blue...the shedding of
Dragonskin looked back at him.

He'd seen men and women wear these sorts of scales before.
Champions and heroes, knights and nobles. They wore the scales of
those unbelievable behemoths with pride, with haughtiness, like so much
jewelry. Like it was just another expensive garment and sign of status.
The notion had always seemed to him...a bit mad.

As a laugh, his first thought was making this gift into a hat. Something
fantastic and frightful and just short of ostentatious. He thought of this,
grinning to himself at the fantasy of striding about the town with a blue
dragonskin hat atop his head, but he let it stop there. A fine fantasy it was,
sure, but it wasn't right.

It would have made a brilliant hat, yes, and it would have made for a
mighty laugh. But Rikam, cheeky and flippant and as fond of showing off
as he was, couldn't manage to separate himself from the sentiment this
gift carried. Certain things, even to a man of his borderline heretical
disposition, had to remain sacred.

All of his life, Rikam's best work had been done with his hands. Picking
pockets, starting fires, starting fights. Shipwork, hoisting, steering,
pointing. Swordfighting. Stitching. Rudely gesturing...

He knew, as he began the lofty, reverent process of mating silksteel with
dragonscale, that this work could only be of and for the hands. A pair of
gloves. Well crafted, well designed, with their cold, mysterious energies.
He would see them as an augment to All his future work, symbolic or
otherwise.

He worked late into the night, unable and unwilling to sleep until the
meticulous project had come to completion.

And as he worked, Rikam Oneiroi felt a door inside of him close. A
door to a terrible, primordial ocean of fear that had churned and bubbled
and seeped out from deep in his heart for most of his life. A fear of the
darkness, of the world's terrible, magnificent mysteries. A fear of
vastness. A fear of death.

The door was closed.
And what's more...it was guarded.




Writer: Zayani

Date Fri Jun 13 17:52:55 2014




Writer: Sindraste

Date Sat Jun 14 00:27:32 2014

To Bloodlust Dekaios Jazaren Azheri All ( Immortal Religion Drakkara Fatale )

Subject Encroaching Destiny


The shadowy chamber echoed with a steady, slow drip of a puddle being
added to, a lethargic tempo of gentle tapping that provided the sole
backdrop to the entity wreathed in darkness. A patch of pure blackness
amongst murky shadows, the creature's outline was impossible to determine,
its presence only alluded to by the twin lamps of blood-red, perfect circles
in place of eyes that shone with an inner luminescence and betrayed the
presence of the Lich.

It remained completely still, ensconced upon an ebon throne that broke the
surface of the shallow pool covering the platform that comprised the center
of the cavernous space. The entire room exuded an inhospitable chill, the
frigid touch of the grave that found no purchase in the body of the equally
cold elven figure.

Another sound, a soft susurration as cloth slid against itself. A stirring
as the unseen figure picked itself out of its majestic chair and prowled
across the slick floor, leaving not even a ripple in its wake. A low
chuckle, a feminine sound laced with menace as words unheard found the
necromancer's ears. A promise made. A murmured reciprocation followed.

A fingersnap, and the room burst into light and focus, revealing the horror
of its true dimensions. A wide open space, a bloodsoaked charnel-house,
crimson rivulets running through the geometric patterns of the platform and
vital splatters caking the stone walls. Only the throne remained unsullied
by the savage desecration of the vampiric abode, for even its owner was
painted in the vital reds of the freshly-spilt fruit of mortal veins.
Red-stained clothing, crimson-stained teeth, and vitae-shaded lenses, each a
pronouncement of intent, warning, and desire for any would-be victims.

The Lich laughed again, the sound rich and mellifluous as it adjusted the
garish fedora adorning its head. Its outline began to shimmer as the stolen
magics of the Conclave began to bolster flesh and steel the spirit for the
rigors of approaching combat. 'The Dungeon's heart stirs for me at last...
Let its beating be the death-knell for the countless who would refuse its
aims... And let me have the lion's share of the feast to follow.
'

There with a final word, an utterance with no business being articulated by
mortal mouths, an obscenity to the material plane itself for, in the blink
of an eye, the Lich vanished into shadow, stealing away into the thick of
the never-ending war above.




Writer: Orlen

Date Sat Jun 14 06:26:26 2014




Writer: Amyth'lynn

Date Sat Jun 14 09:06:18 2014




Writer: Amyth'lynn

Date Sat Jun 14 09:11:25 2014




Writer: Amyth'lynn

Date Sat Jun 14 09:15:13 2014




Writer: Raff

Date Sun Jun 15 00:26:37 2014

To All Althainia Imm RP Austinian Nadrik Siccara

Subject Footsteps - I



It wasn't exactly blackness. Darkness would not even describe it
properly. It was more of what you see out of one eye when you close it and
keep the other one open. It was more like seeing... Nothing. An absence
of both light and darkness, an irridescent grayness that was always
shifting, changing, phasing in and out. A formless void, shapless,
eternally popping in and out of existence, rising and decaying both
instantly and endlessly.

Then, a breath. The cold air stinging his lungs seemed to give life to the
world, the formless focusing in to well-defined lines and shapes, though no
less tumultuous in their motion. Exhaling, his breath seemed to shade the
world, rich and pale hues eddying about and fading back out.

Inhaling again, a stream of images fluttered through his mind, almost to
quickly to perceive, All flowing into one another, his mind struggling to
piece together the disjointed pictures. A splintering piece of timber with
the cold water of the sea lapping at it. A rusting band of iron digging
into someones wrist. Not his own, but somehow familiar. A crimson pool
spreading, seeping into the sand of a river bank. Exhaling, it All faded
back to the turbulent void. Despairing for the color to return, he scanned
his eyes wildly, but the scene did not change.

*tap tap tap*

He felt it on his shoulder, like the fingers of a large, soft land.
Swiveling around, he saw the deep red sliver of a horizon forming in the
void.

Then his eyes opened.

; He had had the dream many times before, almost nightly. But something was
different this time. As his waking mind took in his surroundings, he did
not feel the cold hardness of cobblestones upon his back, nor did he feel
the bitter night wind nor hear the howling of stray dogs prowling the
streets. Instead, they were replaced by warm, soft matress of a large cot
and the warm, dry, crackling air of a firelit room.




Writer: Lunez

Date Sun Jun 15 13:41:27 2014

To All New_Thalos Randorf Azzure Marcaus Telthian Bodrum Imm (Elite Gladiators: Morith Yavaran Eamenoth Thesh )

Subject The Chronicles of Thesh Dridesh: Prelude



The wooden walkway creaked under his feet as he paced along the perimeter
of the slave pens. Even at this height above the pens, the size and
characteristics of the unfortunates below him could be seen with stark
detail and contrast from one another. Some sat in heaps like broken men, a
look of uncertainty pasted across their faces. Others fought with each
other like animals as the handler looked on approvingly beside Lunez as they
perused potential Elites-to-be.

"They bae ah fine lot, most o' em, true fighting spirits, surelae they cin
win ye ah prettae coin in th' Elite arena,
" the handler said aloud proudly.

Lunez looked the potentials over. They were varied from All sorts of
regions of the world and he couldn't help but wonder how these unfortunates
came to be under the ownership of the Del'nichi family. Most unfortunate
indeed, he thought to himself as he toiled over which one to elevate from
the filthy pens to give a fighting chance at freedom.

A gaunt yet fiercely muscular human towered amidst a crowd of other
fighters, clearly he was their pack leader. His face was strong and
possessed a sense of resolve that was impressive. Just as Lunez was about
to point to the man, another caught his eye. A hobgoblin man clad in rags
and various vermin bones tied around his neck, wrists and ankles. The
hobgoblin sat alone from the others, completely still, with eyes closed, and
legs crossed. Even in his meditative state, his head was held with a regal
pose.

"What of that one, the loner in the corner," asked Lunez.

The handler peered over at the goblinoid and just spat down into the pens.
"He bae ah pitiful excuse, he nay fights when we tell em to fight, he nay
eats when we tell em to eat, ahn he nay moves unless ye force em spear
point. Pitiful,
" spat the handler.

Lunez gazed upon the hobgoblin and asked, "Why do the others leave him be?"

The handler shrugged and picked at a scab on his elbow as he replied, "Ah
nay know, they jus' leave em bae, ah seem to recall ahn incident some time
back, nobodae talks to em since. Either way, nay ah worthy fighter, jus'
wastin' ye coin on em.
"

"Where did you acquire him?" asked Lunez.

"Caught betwine ah tribal war, his side lost, ahn th' victors sold em to the
Del'nichi but now these others, trulae fit for ah Sultan--
" He was cut off
abruptly as Lunez pointed to the hobgoblin and proclaimed, "That one. He's
the one I want. The Hobgoblin.
"

The handler wiped the spittle off his cheek and shrugs as he gestured
towards the other handlers down below to fetch the Sultan his pick. As
Lunez turned to leave, he caught the goblinoid looking up at him briefly but
was soon overshadowed by several handlers as they surrounded him with
chains.

It was a thoughtful ride back home to the Desert Jewel. The goblinoid, an
unlikely choice he thought to himself but he was not yet broken by the
entrance into slavery, and he had a mind still intact worthy of a being who
would earn his freedom.

"Let us see my new friend, what you're capable of," Lunez said aloud as a
hint of a dervish smile began its escape from the corners of his mouth.





Writer: Casiella

Date Sun Jun 15 19:33:11 2014




Writer: Syrieni

Date Sun Jun 15 20:22:15 2014




Writer: Ancaladar

Date Mon Jun 16 08:29:42 2014

To Shalonesti Shalonesti_Kingdom All ( Nazca Imm )

Subject The Edge of Dawn (Part XI)


The elves watches as the puddle of light climbed the Priestess' back and
promptly disappeared into the base of her neck. Shifting his attention
momentarily, Ancaladar found Aelysse watching the spectacle, her jaw slack.
Fighting the powerful urge to attract her attention so that she may compose
herself, he turned back toward the Priestess and watched her intently for any
signs of change or trouble. He had some idea what was about to happen, but not
the manner in which it would occur.

Coughing lightly, Aelysse finally composed herself, addressing Ancaladar
directly, "Yes, I think it's that time." The Priestess was gazing around the
grove as if through new eyes. The Chieftan, for his part, did not seem to have
noticed anything at all; instead, he was sighing and shaking his head,
resigned to the unfavorable conclusion of the council. Ancaladar gestured
toward Aelysse and advised patience as the other elves looked on. "Are you
well?" he asked the Priestess, "You have gone quite silent." Her response came
in a much different form than they had grown accustomed to in the last few
moments. "Yes, thank you. Quite well." A small part of Ancaladar wanted throw
back his head in laughter at the sudden transformation from violent barbarian
to well-mannered diplomat.

They resumed the discussion in short order. All the while, the Priestess spoke
emotionlessly, little expression upon her face, and a blank look in her eyes.
Yet the Chieftan did not notice any of it. Ancaladar surmised that the
Chieftan had not been exposed to many things of magical nature in his time. If
he had noticed what was going on at all, he was probably dismissing it as
something to be expected. If that were the case, then Ancaladar's plan to keep
them blissfully ignorant of their third guest was going just as expected. The
discussion took a turn for the better, though Ancaladar's conscience nagged at
him. Had he intended to force either of them into submission, he would have
arranged for it himself. Instead, it seemed the spirit of the sword had taken
matters into its own hands, and displayed a frightening ability in the
process. Perhaps it was just that that frightened Ancaladar. He had
experienced its emotions and memories firsthand, and while the other elves had
thought the blade had taken control of his mind, he had merely been stunned
and confused by the information he was forced to process. He had never once
been controlled by the entity. At that moment he began to consider the
prospects of tossing the shards into the deepest trench they could find.

Outwardly he continued to observe the two as the discussion continued, even
going so far as to lean forward to show that his attention was entirely upon
them, though his inner debate continued. He was shaken from it when the two
stood and the Priestess ordered the Chieftan to ready his weapon. Ancaladar
pushed the debate into the back of his mind and rose to his feet, ready to
subdue the possessed priestess by force if necessary. The Chieftan picked up
his spear, and the Priestess her club. She wasted no time in tossing the club
straight into the pool, casting a spell upon it which caused it to decay and
dissolve. Ancaladar made an additional mental note not to drink the water from
the Nenya pool, alongside other elves swimming through it in the nude. The
Chieftan showed some reluctance, citing the history of his spear as a reason
for retaining his weapon, but reluctantly followed suit, flinging the spear
into the pool. "If it will end this war, I shall give peace instead to the
line of my sons from this day forward."

All of the elves present appeared relieved at the miraculous turn of the
events, but none moreso than Aelysse, who took the opportunity to announce it
by exhaling rather loudly. Ancaladar winced inwardly. Another surprise was
about to follow.

"The Tribe of Sylva requires something of Ruana."





Writer: Thesh

Date Mon Jun 16 08:42:40 2014

To All Lunez New_Thalos Randorf Azzure Marcaus Telthian Bodrum Imm

Subject The Chronicles of Thesh Dridesh: Delivery of a Champion



The visions flickered in and out of the hobgoblin's mind as he sat there
in a meditative stance. Numb to the world, his meditations were his solace
in which he could remember his family. It was generally a bad idea to
provoke him out of his stance, because to him it was akin to being torn from
his life mate and younglings... Again.

One vision after another gently caressed his mind. Memories of his family,
his tribe, his home. The tribe in which he was chieftain was renowned for
being so fierce that even tribes twice the size would leave them alone.
Suddenly a flash of white came, and he could see his wife. She was ghostly
white with her mouth wide open. As quickly as she appeared, she vanished in
another white light. Her death kept haunting him.

Thesh blinked his eyes open for a moment. He was alone, no one dared come
near him. The last being that tried was a huge bulky Minotaur. A cruel
smile curled on Thesh's lips as he remembered how the beast died: eyes
clawed and windpipe ripped out. It died gurgling trying to scream before
collapsing.

It was obvious that some of the fighters had been trained with weapons, and
with the weapons came rules. They were at a severe disadvantage. In
Thesh's tribe when you fight someone, there are no rules. Hands, spit,
claws, dirt, ice, sand... Anything is fair game.

"The hobgoblin, I want that one!"

The commotion didn't phase Thesh, there were plenty of hobgoblins in the
cages. He didn't realize the human was talking about THIS hobgoblin until
he found himself surrounded by handlers. This was a moment the handlers
obviously did not want. Thesh slowly reached for a hidden rock in his
clothing, and as the figures surrounded him he smashed the foot of one of
the handlers. Standing and spinning around, Thesh struck two more handlers,
one of which he shattered a mouthful of teeth. Suddenly Thesh was struck in
the back of the head and everything got thick and fuzzy. Stumbling around
Thesh swung wildly, not really connecting until he heard a punch connect to
a nose.

Side to side motions woke the hobgoblin as he was being carried from the
slave pens in Althainia. The goblinoid was shackled, but he struggled with
all his might. Not to resist, but to strike out against everyone. He
wanted to tear apart All of those that destroyed his home and had nearly
broken him. On the night of his capture, Thesh had killed more than 200 of
the invaders in his village. As he turned to look at his life-mate, he
watched her fall to an arrow and his spirit nearly broke. Several arrows
quickly struck Thesh, dropping him to his knees. That is when the fire
started, inside of him. He was unwilling to relent, unwilling to die. The
fire had started as a spark and quickly consumed him until he could only
hear one word:

"Revenge"

Thesh whispered the word in defiant rage, know it was what kept him strong
and unbroken. Shortly after, the carriage was securely locked and chained
in preparation of transport. One strong kick to the door revealed no
weakness, it was time to depart for his new home.




Writer: Rikam

Date Mon Jun 16 10:19:15 2014

To Verminasia All Swashbuckler RP

Subject Goodbye, dolphin.



"One thing I've always wondered about you lot.
When I give the call, is it always the same stupid
dolphin that comes to answer? Or is there some sort
loose confederation of stupid dolphins that takes
turns.

"'Hey, that Oneiroi boy's calling again. Who's up
for dealing with him?
'"

The dolphin whistles and chitterers up at Rikam, who
sits at the end of the harbor dock and shakes his head.

"Yeah, well. It's been a treat. Thanks for the
laughs, I guess. You'll give your mates a fond
goodbye for me?
"

Smiling, the dolphin makes a weird clicking noise
and bobs its head in the water. Rikam shrugs.

"Right. Well tell 'em I said something brilliant
and moving 'n All that.
"

After a short moment of silence, the dolphin sinks
beneath the water's surface. Rikam can see him
darting off in the opposite direction. He knows
he'll miss traveling through the water at such a
speed, but he doesn't want to think about it right
now.

In perfect silence Rikam rises up to his feet, hooks
his thumbs in his pockets, turns his back to the harbor,
and begins his walk home.




Writer: Elrei

Date Mon Jun 16 20:29:42 2014

To All Taliena Imm RP

Subject "When time is gone..."



The scent of roses was not uncommon at his balcony, overlooking the
garden as it did. Yet the strength of that scent seemed to pulse stronger,
filling his senses with the heady fragrance. Elrei harbored hope for
answers, or closure, but neither was forthcoming. A sweet voice,
disembodied but present regardless, spoke.

"My servant is still sad?"

Not a response to his words, his prayers of self-doubt, his questions
over the boundaries which had been set, or the discussions he had with
others - an admonishment. It did not strike him until later the oddity of
the phrase: his Goddess had never called him such, before. It was accurate
enough, but strange. If not by name, She might refer to him as Her child,
or by the title She had bestowed of Prophet, but this was the first time She
had ever called him Her servant. It set the tone for what followed.

"Should I not be saddened by All that has occurred?"

"My gift to this world is joy, happyness and love, those whom are of me
should find something to be happy about. Is my servant not content in doing
my work?
"

Admonishment, yes, and criticism for his personal feelings? Insinuation
that the troubles he had faced and the sadness he felt for not only his own
loss, but the loss of others, made him incapable. And then the implication
that he was at fault, that he was unwilling to do as She asked. Elrei was
speechless for a time. Had it been anyone else, Elrei would have been
enraged. But one does not claim offense from one's own deity.

"I must simply heal. As Leema said. I was banished from the one place I
had managed to feel comfortable within for many years. I saw problems, and
tried to fix them, but I am told it is not my place to do so. So I must
take the time and find my place again.
"

"You must heal. You have done All I have asked of you, my prophet. You
have done my works. It is now time to turn your sights other places. There
are indeed places where you may perform my works without being bothered,
where one such as you might find peace
"

Without being bothered? One such as him? Elrei was confused.




Writer: Elrei

Date Mon Jun 16 20:37:12 2014

To All Taliena Imm RP

Subject "... It's time to go..."



"Perhaps if you draw upon Leema's knowledge, she might guide you to
such a place.
"

"Leema wishes to guide me into the Gray. But the Gray is, by its nature,
apolitical. I was trained as a diplomat - what great influence can be had
to better the world without involvement in politics? To me, entering the
Gray seems akin to giving up on making change for the better in the nations
of the world.
"

"Then you must ask yourself, which are you, one whom is first and
foremost doing my work and my will within the world, or one whom is intent
on solving the ever cycling conflicts of the world?
"

Elrei nearly reeled. "I do not understand - I have long considered the
solving of conflict to be Your work, the encouragement of a compassionate
society.
"

"Perhaps there are other ways, though, my prophet. Yes, one may do my
work in such diplomatic stations, but perhaps it is time to change that
focus, to move from a larva into a butterfly.
"

It seemed a bit late in life, to be making a transition from larva-hood.
To have All that he had done, All that he had accomplished both for Her and
others, All that he had learned, compared to an immature, glutting insect...
Elrei had no words. Such a metamorphosis implied giving up All that he was
to become something unknown, to transform into something he could not, in
his present state, comprehend or perceive.

So he asked, for guidance. "What would you have me do, my Lady?"

"Be happy."

In the face of banishment, be happy. In the face of loss, be happy. In
the face of pain, be happy. In the face of confusion and self-doubt, be
happy. Disregard yourself, All that you are and All that made you this way,
and be happy.

About what?




Writer: Elrei

Date Mon Jun 16 20:42:23 2014

To All Taliena Imm RP

Subject "... Where time is endless."



He had received words of support from Her, following his denouncement
of Benthic. A week later, it seemed he was being chided for it. A month
later, after prayers seeking support and clarity, he is given no answer, no
closure, but told only to "be happy." An open, gaping wound, but he must
smile and go on about life as though All is well. His prayers and
concerns... Ignored? Unheard? No, they could not have gone unheard, not
by Her. Dismissed, then.

Elrei could understand if it was simply his own pain, his own suffering
and self-doubt which was deemed insignificant. But this pain was tied to
Althainia, the supposed Empire of the Light. Was that, too, insignificant?
Was the potential loss of that symbol, that banner, considered so minor as
the world moved toward the future that it was not worth mentioning?

He promised that he would "try to summon some amount of happiness," but
the task seemed impossible. No family to speak of, perhaps All of two
friends he might feel comfortable confiding in (though one of them living in
a place forbidden to him, now). No community, no sense of belonging. He
had enough money to keep his bookshop and miniature trade school from
closing for a bit, but the bulk of his wealth he had given to the same
nation which had barred him, claiming him a trouble-maker.

Would he find comfort in the Gray? Doubtful. They were largely absent,
and even more largely unappreciated. The things Elrei always thrived on
were community and appreciation for his efforts, and yet the Gray seemed to
lack both. Too much time alone to think inevitably lead to lingering on the
painful memories, the failures of his life. Yet this was the path he was
being guided down.

He had always respected the Gray Church, had always been careful to
acknowledge their life-long vow when a member had found their dedication
faltering and sought to gain citizenship in the Vallens. In recent years,
he had considered going there himself, but had thought of it as a sort of
retirement plan - a place to go when he was done with everything else. A
place to fade away within.

Maybe it was time.




Writer: Meryna

Date Tue Jun 17 01:58:26 2014

To All Verminasia - Imm RP

Subject {{Entrepreneur Escapades}


Schemes, Ryn had come to understand as she got older, did not always have
to be mean spirited at heart. Granted, what most not of the Evil Pantheon
considered mean spirited was simply a right hoot to the rest. In either
case, the announcement for the Second Annual Arcanium Chef Competition had
filled the young pirate with an utterly exciting thrill. The whole day she
had been filled with restless energy, her mind finally clicking over into
high gear. Ideas, good and bad, whizzed about through her thoughts and a
random passerby would often catch her mutter to herself as she mused this
idea and that.

Then, there had been the annoucement by the Queen of Verminasia, Liviya
Madaur of a Lightswane Festival. It promised to be an impressive affair - a
full day of storytelling, games of chance and skill, pageantry, good food,
music and much, much more. While wandering about, working on one of her
many ideas with the help of the Advisor Lovedaia, Ryn had been halted by the
Queen herself. And summarily "delegated" to help prepare and run the
celebration. Part of her wondered if it was a good idea. The other part of
her ended up hopping up and down in front of Queen, Advisor and Admiral
alike.

There was, of course, her own game of "Capture", the dice game perfect for
smaller groups at tables of good food and drink. After listening to the
simplest explanation the pirate could give, the Queen had approved. During
that same conversation, Ryn told the Queen about her plans to begin her own
line of food products: All based on pumpkin. After showing the menu to the
Queen, the two had been of accord that should the dishes meet with success
at the Competition, then a large order would be placed for the Festival.

Ryn could barely contain her absolute glee at the prospects.

After a quick bath, the young woman made her way to her most frequented
watering hole. Strolling along casually, her mind occupied with her
formulating schemes and plans, she almost tripped over the highland couple
having a discussion at the bar. In her favorite seat of All things.

She said her hellos to Devlin and Megan, without introducing herself, and
then made her way down to the very end of the bar. As she snuggled up
against the wall, spreading parchments out in front of her and bending to
work, she listened

The pair appeared to be discussing plans of some sort. Mentions of drinks,
and herbs, things that the two could sell together. These things were
shared between the two and Ryn smiled to herself. Schemes indeed, seemed to
be in every nook and cranny of Algoron. Eventually, the couple departed,
leaving Ryn to her work, she buckled down with focus ignoring the heavy pull
of her eyelids toward her cheeks.

Finally finished, the young woman smiled to herself and carefully tidied all
of her work. She tucked away the keeps and discarded what she no longer
needed, then got up. She tipped the bartender, though she hadn't had a
single drink, and whistled a tune as she departed.

Let the schemes commence.




Writer: Erutan

Date Tue Jun 17 09:23:08 2014




Writer: Ulrog

Date Tue Jun 17 21:51:58 2014

To All Grumf Raije Imm RP

Subject A Warrior's Training



Ulrog takes a huge swig of whiskey from his stein as he surveys the
forest. Sasquatches peek from behind trees, wary of the drunken dwarf
trampling through the forest. Ulrog makes no effort to be silent in his
stalking, sneaking didnt come easy for him sober, much less after drinking
his weight in whiskey. He stumbles through the forest, eventually tripping
over a log and tumbling down a large ravine. When his long fall ends, Ulrog
looks up to find a sasquatch gaping at the dirty, drunken dwarf in surprise.
With a incoherent roar, Ulrog leaps to his feet and charges the sasquatch,
brandishing a pair of axes. The sasquatch is not quick enough to avoid the
roaring wrecking ball sprinting towards him, and he is quickly felled under
the strength of the dwarfs blows. With every strike, Ulrogs arm grows more
sure, the haze of the alcohol strengthening his blows but making his dodges
less fluid. What the dwarf lacked in grace he made up for in fury, and the
sasquatch perished underneath the dirty, bloody dwarf. Ulrog gazes down at
the broken corpse below him and reaches again for his stein, taking an
enormous swig and smacking his lips, stumbling off to find his next kill.




Writer: Crystallis

Date Tue Jun 17 22:10:29 2014

To All Verminasia Calev Rikam

Subject To Do List...part 1


Crystallis Ryndyll descended a massive wending staircase, the expansive
tower was silent, no sound coming from any of her light, elven steps. The
dark elf had been in her observatory All morning enchanting. Her mind was
exhausted, she needed to rest. She decided to take a break from her
enchanting, but she still had much to do. The enchantress removed the hood
of her dark cloak as the stairway opened up into a large chamber, flipping
her long white hair over her back, her thick alabaster tresses falling to
her waist. Crystallis whispered softly, an Elvish incantation escaping from
her lips. Floating spheres began to illuminate across the room, their
soft-glow offering light to the massive chamber. The dimly-lit room was an
enormous library, its vast space filled with rows upon rows of wooden
shelves each one lined neatly with her vast collection of books, tomes, and
scrolls.

The enchantress entered her library, her graceful stride leading her with a
purpose to one of the many desks placed about the large chamber. Writing
utensils and crisp parchments lay upon each of the desks, always available
for use if needed by the library's guests. The dark elf gave a little
wiggle of her fingers, an animated quill with a long wispy black feather
began to scribble on the parchment. What came forth was her 'list of things
to do. ' Lately Crystallis had found herself to be incredibly busy. If she
wasn't enchanting, she was huddled away in a library somewhere writing
missives and researching ways to aid Verminasia's provinces, first the
county Sacnoth and now the baronies Atstlomme and Camaraenaus.

Atstlomme belonged to her ex-husband Baruch Nadiv, though their grandson
Calev Nadiv was its Baron and actual caretaker of the province. The barony
was known for its food- baked delicacies, salmon, and spreadable cheeses.
It was able to thrive in its area of Arkania; however, Atstlomme's finest
foods deserved to be shared with and enjoyed by the rest of the world.
Crystallis hoped to help her grandson with this. She needed come up with a
way to transport the food to the Dark Kingdom without it spoiling and going
bad. The breads could be baked in Verminasia, their fresh aroma would
attract many hungry customers. However the cheese and salmon would be a
different story, both would ruin very quickly if not kept cool on their trip
to Verminasia.

The enchantress already had an 'idea' that might work, but she would need
help from at least one other. The feathered quill moved to a blank
parchment, this time writing a missive as the dark elf looked over her list.
Crystallis had become close to several gnomes during her stay at Sacnoth,
working closely with them to see the county's cocoa trees prosper. There
was one gnome in particular whom Crystallis was almost certain would help He
was an older gnome and had retired from his duties, but the dark elf knew
where to find him. The quill continued to scratch out its message. The
enchantress wanted the gnome to help her build a box, but not just any box,
she needed something that could hold a constant temperature. She planned on
using magic cool the container, keeping its delicate contents fresh on their
journey. He would enjoy the challenge, the creativity, and use of magic.

Crystallis proofread the letter. Pleased with its contents, she sealed it
and set it aside to be delivered a little later. She picked up her quill
and dipped it into some ink, then scratched through the first line, moving
down on her list. Camaraenaus was next. She set the parchment back on the
table and took a deep breath. This task would be challenging, interesting,
and possibly dangerous. The Baron Picard-Oneiroi needed help with his
ostriches, but with this particular Baron, nothing was ever simple. The aid
he required involved Crystallis delving into something that she had always
considered risky and tried to avoid- potions and witchcraft. Only Rikam
would have a project for her that involved ostriches and witchcraft.




Writer: Crystallis

Date Tue Jun 17 22:10:56 2014




Writer: Ulrog

Date Tue Jun 17 22:52:55 2014

To All Grumf Raije Imm RP

Subject A Quest for Firewood (Part One)



Ulrog lies snoring in his bunk in the Baewar barracks. It is the wee
hours of the morning, and the dwarf is exhausted, hung over from a night in
the tavern with his fellow soldiers. The armsmaster of Baewar, a hulking
brute of a dwarf with bulging muscles and an absurdly large battleaxe,
marches over to the sleeping Ulrog and kicks his bunk over, dumping the
sputtering dwarf on the ground.

The armsmaster gets right in Ulrogs face, Wake up sleepin beauty, ye got work tae do!

Ulrog groans and stands upright, staring straight ahead and shouting his reply. Aye sar!

The armsmaster begins pacing in front of Ulrog. Ye have been in this army for how long, lad? Ah few weeks? Wot have ye done tae prove yerself?

Ulrog continues staring straight ahead. Nothin sar!

That bae correct. Ye bae ah poxy tit ahn ye know et. Ah have though of ah special task for ye. Even ah lumpy faced shite like ye should bae able tae handle et. The armsmaster grins wickedly.
The Baewar fires bae runnin low on some firewood, ahn ah know just where ye cin go tae fetch us some more.

Ulrogs mouth turns into a frown. Aye sar? Where bae that?

The hulking dwarf turns to gaze at Ulrog. The bloodae Temple of Zandreya in that twig city! They got trees everywhere, ann yer gonna bring us some kindling! Ah dunnae care how ye do et, but etll bae done or ah swear on mae axe ye will never bae ah rager!

Ulrog stares back, slack jawed. He cannot refuse, but he has no idea how to accomplish such a wild task without getting torn apart by the elven guards. Perhaps that was what the armsmaster had in mind, come to think of it.
It took a special kind of suicidal bravery to undergo rager training, and Ulrog had what it took. He overcomes his initial surprise and grins at the armsmaster. Et will bae done, sar!

See that et bae, lad. Come back with that firewood, or dunnae come back et all!




Writer: Ulrog

Date Tue Jun 17 22:56:38 2014

To All Grumf Raije Imm RP

Subject A Quest for Firewood (Part Two)



Ulrog stands a ways off from the Shalonesti gates, eying the guards
posted there and wondering how he will get past. He sees no way to sneak
inside, the guards would spot him immediately. Hearing a sound coming from
behind him, up the forest trail, he ducks behind a tree, peeking out to spot
a lone elf priest walking the path to the city, wearing a hooded robe.

Perfect, he thought, as he waited for the opportune moment. As the elf walks past, Ulrog leaps from his hiding place, landing on the elfs back and throwing them both to the ground in a pile.
Not wanting to rip the robes, the dwarf could not bring his axes to bear, so he struggled the bring his knee down on the twigs neck, and heard it break with a satisfying crack.

Stripping the dead elf of his robe, Ulrog puts it on. The robe falls long past his feet, and a large portion of fabric rests on the ground. With a curse, Ulrog gathers the folds of the robe and marches to a tree, slicing off two medium sized branches.

Chop chop, he murmurs as he works. He straps the two branches to his feet, and with a little practice, the dwarf is able to stand and walk. He cackles to himself as he throws the hood over his head and walk towards the gate.

Seeing the approaching figure in the cloak of a Zandreyan priest, the guards bow their heads and whisper a greeting. Well met, cousin.

Ulrog keeps his head low and grins to himself, continuing on the main road without saying a word. Finding his way to the temple was easy, as it lay only a pace or two off the main road.
With absurd ease, the disguised dwarf made his way up the temple steps using only a priestly robe and a pair of stilts.

Finding the fire pit, Ulrog began gathering up several bundles of tinder, lashing it to his back. Several groups of worshipping elves passed by during this time, but none paid any mind to the dwarf, assuming he was only there maintaining the fire.

After gathering what he needed, the dwarf cackled aloud, not remembering he was far from safe yet. An elven worshipper looked back at him, unable to see past his hood, but suspicious All the same. Who are you, cousin? the elf asks.

Ulrog doesnt turn around. Er, gotta go twiggae. Ah mean cousin! He stumbles haphazardly down the temple steps, unsteady on his feet going downhill in stilts.
The elf who questioned him runs out of the temple, yelling for guards, but the dwarf makes it outside the gates.
By the time the guards are alerted, the dwarf shed his stilts and was jogging back towards the mountain, a grin on his face and a bundle of twig firewood over his shoulder.




Writer: Demyan

Date Thu Jun 19 12:21:10 2014




Writer: Phadynos

Date Sat Jun 21 04:42:46 2014




Writer: Liviya

Date Mon Jun 23 16:17:14 2014

To Verminasia Abaddon Darkonin Shadow Bloodlust Marauders Grumf Necrucifer Raije All ( imm RP Religion Kyri )

Subject The War on War



A sneer crossed the face of the Verminasian Queen as she stood
within the Temple of Raije inside the Altar of Darkness.

The existence of this place had been a passing annoyance in the
past. Now, it filled her with rage, and as she gazed upon the
statue of the God of War standing within it, she wished with
great passion to be the one who had it broken into shards and
the chamber itself destroyed.

In calling for the battle for the Shard of Seanan, Raije had
proven to have no interest whatsoever in a fair fight-- unless,
of course, he had been stupid enough to believe that it would
be evenly matched, which was All the more reason to have no faith
in him.

In that battle, the Marauder Army, sworn to Raije, had gone so
far as to side with Good, and that was the metaphorical last
straw upon the camel of an already embarrassingly uneven fight.

This building was an Altar of Darkness. Raije was not of Darkness,
nor was he any friend to it. He did not deserve a place of honor
within a church of Evil.

So she penned a missive to her allies calling for its destruction,
forwarding it along to Raije's high priest as a courtesy. Within
minutes, he had addressed his own missive to the world attacking
her ego, and that stoked the fire within her ever higher.

The altar had been built in a different world. That much was plain
in the fact that a statuette of Malachive was part of Drakkara's
temple. Things had changed, and it was time that this holy place
become a true symbol of Dark unity.

Her hands curling into fists, she glared at the statue of Raije.
She would be back, and she would be wielding a hammer.




Writer: Rikkah

Date Mon Jun 23 20:38:33 2014

To All arkane Aphasian Salimari Lufio Zarina Azah Fynix (RP)

Subject Subtle Bluntness



She walked out the gate, leaving Arkane for a moment of quiet solitude,
her brain All crammed with thoughts. She needed more fresh air, less
people, less polite chatter, more dammit- thought. She hated to be this
way, to be thinking and not doing. The baby was forcing her to slow down,
hard to climb ropes round as the moon. No drinking, no wrestling, not much
exploring when waddling has become your new pace. Rikkah Burrbramble turned
into the forest. She needed to take a rest, again. She had hardly walked a
half kilometer. She could yet see Arkane in the far horizon. Whatever.

Stepping into the cool, shade of the forest, leaving the road she wandered
in deeper, watching the sunlight move through the motes, the dancing tufted
seeds, ebb and flow of earthy scent and fresh clean air. She found a rather
pleasant spot under a large tree, nestling between the roots and with legs
akimbo, she drifted into a deep sleep, exhaustion finally caressing her
down.

And she dreamed, she saw herself outside herself, as if watching third
person, or reading a book. Only she knew the outcome. She knew what was
going on. She felt certain that they had been had, outed, the play was
revealed.

She was playing a mad kender, wrapped up in a mummy like jacket, she had
little movement and was only required to moan and drool and occasionally
sling wicked taunts. The nobleman before her, dressed in expensive silk
brocade, a diamond pin placed at the collar of his ruffled shirt. The heist
was to dupe him out of five hundred blue diamonds. The sell was that they
were going to build a hostel for the afflicted kender. Only they presented
all false documents, land deeds. The paperwork had been carefully examined.
The nobleman was sympathetic to the plight of the kender nation.

Only after speaking with Lyrith, did the nobleman now seem nervous. Five
hundred blue diamonds is a lot of coin. Though Lyrith had acted well
enough, there was an energy, anxious, that the nobleman was losing control
over. He spoke without looking at either Lyr or Rikkah herself. She
hunched in her restraints, Lyr would let her out after they had the diamonds
in hand, after they set off in the humble carriage that brought them out
here to the noblemans estate. "I cannot in good faith contribute to your
cause without seeing the land first. If we do this then, I want to visit.
I want to see the contribution has been well worth my wealth.
"

The nobleman continued, "Very well, but you see I will not contribute then.
This
" He gestured to the ornate wooden box on the desk next to his side
blandly. Will stay with me and you can leave. I will call my steward. "
Lyr made one more plea, "I realize we do not have much in proof to offer,
just the papers and our plan, but look at her-
" He swung a hand out to
Rikkah and she did her best to be blank, stupid with shock. "Her kind need
a place to recover, to rebuild, sir. I beg your indulgence, let us begin to
heal, rather than wound once more.
"

The nobleman whirled, rounding on Lyr and the half-elf looked small compared
to the brawny nobleman. They knew he worked beside his men in the fields
and with the cattle, but suddenly his nervous energy made him aggressive,
like a cat backed into a corner.




Writer: Rikkah

Date Mon Jun 23 20:47:42 2014

To All arkane Aphasian Salimari Lufio Zarina Azah Fynix (RP)

Subject Subtle Bluntness II



"Do you presume that I do not care? That I am so callous or unmoved by
the plight of other races? By gods, you will feel my wrath. This whole
conversation has been about how the rich need to help the poor as if money
is the key to everything. Yet, this whole while you have left your
afflicted charge in a straight jacket, to drool All over herself, just what
may I ask is this hostel going to be like? Like that wretched Asylum the
dark elves keep?


Oops, they hadn't thought he would be that sympathetic. Rikkah snuck a
glance toward Lyr, his dark almond eyes caught her gaze and widened
slightly, as if to convey they needed to be very careful.

"My Lord, believe me, I would not have brought her if I thought it would
upset you. Our little Kosette is a unique case. I thought you would
appreciate seeing what your coin can contribute to. We would be able to
keep her fed and clothed and perhaps build an outdoor walking track to help
her exercise-
"

The nobleman flushed an angry red, "Exercise her? Like shes some sort of
pet? These are people, my dear sir. They have lives to live. They need
rehabilitation and society, not to be locked away from the rest of us
mortals!
"

Actually, Rikkah had never thought about it that way and she suddenly
giggled wondering if she was like a pet monkey to Lyrith. Dance monkey,
dance! And she did.

The nobleman turned towards her startled. She only slightly widened her
eyes and then gave a blank face once more. She had perhaps given a tell.
She prayed not, Kwainin, were only thieves!

The nobleman raked a hand through his hair, momentarily regaining his
composure, his stately power of presence. "I will give you this amount. It
sums to two-hundred fifty blue. In one months time I expect to travel to
the hostel and see the progress for myself, then I will give you the rest.
That is my only offer.
"

Lyr brightened and when he did, Rikkah realized they were All clear. That
in a moment her laughter had helped solidify the steal. The relief washed
over her and she squirmed slightly against the restraints. Lyr tossed her a
look that said, "Stop that. " She settled as they drew up documents that
would be destroyed later. What a waste of time.






Writer: Rikkah

Date Mon Jun 23 20:55:18 2014

To All arkane Aphasian Salimari Lufio Zarina Azah Fynix (RP)

Subject Subtle Bluntness III



They left the estate, pulled away from the manor home, the outbuildings,
the stables and barn. They had not been completely successful with the
take, but they werent coming home empty handed and they were still in the
black with the Master. Lyr laughed his rich warm humor as he unwound Rikkah
from the restraints. It would had been easier to do it out of the carriage
but they wanted to put as much distance between themselves and the prey as
possible. Lyr shook his head, dark eyes delighted with the wealth of their
take.

"We did good today, Rikkah, nevermind the work we put into it. We did
alright, the Master will be pleased. However did you know that your
laughter would dispel All that mans righteous indignation?
" She wanted to
answer, but at that moment she realized she was in her memories. That Lyrs
pale skin and dark eyes were a dream of what had been. She felt herself
being pulled out of the memory, felt her physical body stirring. No, she
wanted to stay, she wanted to feel again the thrill and Lyrs advice and
attention. She didnt want to leave, but she was. She slipped from dream to
reality, where your mind is unsettled and dazed from the otherworld.

Something woke her up and it wasnt anything in the forest. It was her own
body.

The build was low, contractions were like a great muscle inside her pulled
together, working independent from the rest of her body. It was like
suddenly part of her didnt behave correctly, or maybe it was doing exactly
what she knew it would have to do. She thought wildly, it was too early.
This shouldnt be happening now.

She fought to stay in control of her body and for a while worked against the
contractions, which hurt and made her think of vomiting. She was ill with
panic and floundering against the floor of the forest. She began to cry
after the last wracking contraction, but then rubbed her eyes. She wasnt
about to be frightened of this experience. She wouldnt cringe. She inhaled
deeply and let the breath go with a release of tension and the need to be in
charge. Let her body do what it needed to do and shed wonder over the rest
later. She took another breath and thought of the last time she saw Lyr,
before the guards had caught up with him. Before he had been beaten and
tortured and hung. She forgot the purple bloated image of bruises and cuts
and thought about the perfect blend of human and elf. The high cheekbones,
delicate chin and full lips, the lustrous dark eyes. He was her mentor and
she realized through another contraction that he had given what he could to
her and that had been a sort of love. She realized with a deep inhale that
she was never alone when she had been with Lyr, even though his break from
the Master had caused her break and his death. She was alone now.




Writer: Rikkah

Date Mon Jun 23 21:18:51 2014

To All arkane Aphasian Salimari Lufio Zarina Azah Fynix (RP)

Subject Subtle Bluntness IV



She cried out with the next contraction, her body was making quick work
of the birth, forcing her to curl against the trunk of the tree, bracing her
back, trying not to fight against the purpose of the contractions. Her next
thoughts were of pirates, of dark damp caverns that torchlight couldnt even
brighten, of working with the pistol, learning the angles and the aim,
working with sword, with whip to hone technique into something that would
make her a woman to be reckoned with, not just some silly kender lass.

The pirates adored her, little Moll. They taught her to tie knots, set
sails, check rigging. They taught her to drink and play and still be tough.
They taught her she could say anything and get away with it and slowly she
adapted language and culture into her own background, weaving thief with
pirate skills. She loved the freedom the ocean brought.

The rough bark, dug into her back and she struggled with a turrid wash of
fluid, raking at her leggings as the contractions pushed to expel the baby
inside her. Her thoughts became a jumble as she drew into herself again,
the pain something like a sensation of hard work and stress, a deep rippling
stress that caused her breath to escape her. Yet, she actually felt a
relief as her water broke, something was happening besides pain at least.

The physical overwhelming control her body had, loosed her mind to dwell on
other things and her mind was taking her back, a trip to the past for free
tonight. Skipping over conversations, people she knew, experiences and
disappointments, loves, like a compilation of private pictures for her
viewing. There was the Master, frown set upon his wide face. There was Lyr
with Betteny, practicing language and culture. There was Lufio, giving her
a challenging shove, a preclude to their matches of will and desire.
Aphasian, a teasing, playing smile over his lips. Zarina with hooded eyes,
passionate and dancing from exertion, Azah, his arm over the back of the
couch, relaxed power in the curve of his body. A tumble of faces she
thought well of. Arkane was so much more a home to her now.

She whimpered as her body compelled her to push, she set her legs on the
roots of the tree and gave a sharp yelp of discomfiture. The work made her
dizzy and ill and thrilled All in one moment. She grit her teeth and willed
herself to give up that last bit of control that would have made the
impossible possible.

Lyrs face as he screamed, Run Rikkah, get away from me. The Masters firm
set expression that Lyr would take the fall for the Guild this time. She
viewed the change from thief to pirate. The endurance as she attempted that
first swim across a larger expanse of wave and salt. Then she beheld a
glimpse of Lufios body as he turned toward her in bed. She heard the call
of a thousand mothers that had preceded her in this experience.

Push, push, breathe, push.

She let herself go, just let her body do the work intended and obeyed what
her body told her. It was early, but she trusted Kwainin knew best in these
things. So, she let go. And in a span of delirious, heady pain, there came
a feeble crying coughing noise. She brought it up to her chest, wiping
viscous fluid and blood from its small face. So fragile, so tiny, her
trembling fingers moved over mouth and nose. She half-laughed, wept with
liberation and triumph, used her cloak to wrap the very small being up. She
only partially registered that it was actually she, so numb from the shock
of birth and so tired, excited, yet exhausted.

The baby sputtered, shivered and Rikkah had seconds to wonder if they would
be alright where they were. They should move, but she couldnt. And then
there was a cramping spasm that stole the breath from her lungs and the
world around her went hazy as she clutched the precious bundle to her. Her
last moment of consciousness was that she should hold that baby tight,
because that tiny girl needed her.




Writer: Rikkah

Date Mon Jun 23 21:26:58 2014

To All arkane Aphasian Salimari Lufio Zarina Azah Fynix (RP)

Subject Subtle Bluntness V



Warm arms surrounded her, they held her firm in their embrace. She was
flooded with a sense of safety, a smell of home. She struggled for
consciousness, the eyelids wouldnt open. She felt awake but her body
wouldn't respond. She was trapped in the netherworld between wake and
sleep. There was an unexpected noise, familiar though. A cry, a noise of
need and helplessness and she was compelled to wrestle the cobwebs of sleep.
"Muh, mmmy babby? " Her voice was a hoarse whisper. Her eyes, heavy, hard
to open tried to gain focus.

"Rikkah, it's me Salimari, we.. We were out exploring and we found you.
Aphasian and Iwe're here. You're baby is beautiful andand really healthy!
" The bright tinkling of Salimaris voice sounded tinny in her ears.

She found herself with the two other kender. Salimari was prancing about,
with a huge smile over her face and Aphasian was holding the baby, silent
and concerned, yet an glint of delight in his sea green eyes. Suddenly her
surrounding stood at attention and she was more aware of the forest than she
had ever been. Her pulse sped up and she took in a deep breath, noticed the
blanket under her and another overtop, the fire that was slowing burning,
heat welcomed as her sore body complained for an instant at the sudden use.
She sat up found that she had been propped up with Fynixs pillow. Reaching
out she took a long drink from her decanter and noticed they had helped
clean her up. She thought about it and appreciated the attention.

When she could trust herself to speak, she said smally, "What now? " She
felt perfect, complete. Camp was set up, her friends were near. The baby
was well, if tiny.

Aphasian gestured to her chest and handed the baby over to her. Her arms
felt the lightness and life within her grasp and she smiled, deep blue eyes
lighting up.

"Alright, I think I git! " And she laughed with sparkling mirth, as
Salimari joining in.

Welcome to the world, Ruliah D. Burrbramble.




Writer: Meryna

Date Mon Jun 23 22:59:04 2014

To Verminasia All - Imm RP

Subject {{When A Pirate Be Bored: Part One}


The dagger dances about on the bar top in quick, sure motions. The tip
dove between spread, slender digits, burying into the varnished and scarred
wood before withdrawing and striking again between the next set. Over and
over, first left, then right, going back and forth the dagger flashed.
Then, suddenly it stopped and the cessation of the "tunk, tunk, tunk" of
alloy into wood drew the curious eyes of the bartender.

Meryna Segrave, Cricket, The Pumpkin Queen, Entrepreneur and Privateer,
Soldier of the Crimson Armada and pirate was bored.

Close by, a half drained goblet of mug sat warming, holding down a pile of
parchments. Missives, blue prints, clothing designs, food menus and other
assorted things were scattered about, some with liquor drops, others with
food stains. Each one had her hand writing on it in some way or another,
various doodles and lined designs showing off her more idle creative side.
Arcs and swirls littered the edges of the pages, along with the random
mathematical equation or a note of utterly random nonsense. Much of it had
happened in moments of wandering daydreaming, her mind wandering lazily this
way and that with no purpose.

The oneiroi had gotten her.

A faint smile tugged at her lips as she recalled bits and pieces of that
particular conversation with Admiral Rikam, more commonly known as Lullaby.

With a wide yawn, Ryn slipped her dagger back into its hidden place and
brought her fingers up to play with the charm that rested against her
breasts. Suspended by a beautiful strand of black and dark, shimmering blue
pearls, the small image of the raven was crafted out of fine jet, the eye
made from a perfect, small sapphire. It had been her second piece of
jewelry to craft, and it had not been cheap, or easy, but the finished
product was exquisite. The colors in particular were a stark contrast to
her reds, golds and other earthen colors, which made a beautifully enticing
contrast.

In particular, it reminded her of a certain warlock that had also gotten
her, but in a much better way.

Her right foot dropped from the support of the bar stool and started to
swing to and fro a few inches from the floor. Chin resting in her left
palm, she twirld the raven pendant and smiled dreamily to herself, her mind
drifting over the memories and fantasies of a young woman smitten. She only
wished Drew would finish up his training in the Bastille soon, because she
was very much looking forward to their promised dinner date.

Mind wandering off again, she yawned wide, her jaw cracking quietly from the
force of it. With a grimace and a rub to her poor joint, Ryn decided it was
time to do something. Standing up, she started to clean up the mess her
musings and dreamings had created, only to hear the sweetest sound of all.

"Hello, hello. "

Captain Claudette Picard-Oneiroi, otherwise known as Cap'n Dagger had the
sweetest and most perfect of timing.




Writer: Meryna

Date Mon Jun 23 23:11:26 2014

To Verminasia All - Imm RP

Subject {{When A Pirate Be Bored: Part Two}


"AHOY! Be 'bout time someone fun showed up! " Ryn greeted back, a grin
already forming on her lips.

"Oy! What is it then? You lot bored? "

That was a rather large understatement, Ryn thought.

"I am. Cin only work on blueprints so much an' e'eryone else got bit by the
borin' bug.
"

"Right! I got official orders for you then. "

The sweet budding of hope and her eagerness to be up to something, anything
brought a grin to her lips. Gathering up the rest of her things as quickly
as she could, she still made sure to tuck them away neatly, brushing off
what liquor and crumbs of food she was able to.

"Aye'n? "

"Right. Your orders is this: Set no less than two fires, and vandalize
something important. I expect a full report.
"

"Right-o! "

It was at that moment that a familiar throat clearing joined in on the
conversation. For a moment, she was grateful as carefree and wild laughter
spilled out around her, filling the lounge of the Royal Arms. She finished
off her rum and tossed some gold on the counter top, shrugging her pack up
around her body.

The Queen probably wouldn't like it if the mischief was done at home.

"An when I say full report, I mean BLOODY full. And it better not be in
Verminasia, neither, nor on my ship.
"

Already the gears were starting to turn in the young pirate's head. Pranks,
long passed up since she'd come of age, were flooding to the front, leaking
out of some creaky and halfheartedly closed gate within her mind. Her mind
started wandering to where, whom and how she could cause some sort of
mischief, and where a fire might be noticed - though not too quickly!

"O' course nay. I live 'ere. Nay be sullyin' me own bed, pardon me phrase.
"

And with that, Ryn was off like a shot from a cannon. Her hair whipped out
behind her as she rain gaily through the streets of Verminasia, a broad and
impish grin upon her features, laughter in her ever-changing eyes. As she
headed for the southern gate, she bypassed the Captain Picard-Oneiroi, but
she was so caught up in her musings and scheming and plotting that she
didn't even stop to salute or wave.

She knew just the place to start the first fire, and started to make her way
through Arkane, heading east.




Writer: Meryna

Date Mon Jun 23 23:36:57 2014

To Verminasia All - Imm RP

Subject {{When A Pirate Be Bored: Part Three}


Pirate sneakiness was not quite like assassin sneakiness. Especially
when when had flaming-gold hair and tended to wear white blouses and a red
coat. Or an equally bright and shimmering gown of orange. No, instead of
clinging to the shadows and furtively skirting around guards and passerbys,
Ryn simply strolled onto the grounds like she belonged there and practically
owned the place. Hands in her back pockets, she whistled a merry little
ditty aloud and wandered about looking at the various sculptures and trimmed
hedges until she found her way to the back of the glass mansion.

It was simply too perfect.

A recent pile of hedge clippings was being neatly piled up along with the
rakings from the immaculately kept lawn.

Swaying over, Ryn started flirting with the gardener tending the pile. The
poor young man had absolutely no idea what hit him as a beauty out of
legends started to fawn over him. She went with the sweet and innocent,
giggling, fluttering her lashes, using her favored country sweetheart
accent. He blushed and stammered, grinning boyishly and after a little
while, she started to fan herself, feigning the heat was "simply too much,
darling". As the gardener ran off to find her a glass of lemonade, Ryn
grinned wickedly and stooped down.

From out of her pocket, Ryn pulled a grenade. It was her first one, other
than the practice throw she'd gotten in the guild. All she knew was it
promised to be a helluva dozy once she got it set off. That and she needed
to be far, far away when it happened. Lighting the grenade, Ryn shoved it
in under the debris and took off as fast as her long, strong legs would
carry her.

Just as she reached the entrance of the grounds, she heard it - an ear
shattering KABOOM guaranteed to scare the living hell out of anyone within
the vicinity. The ground rumbled beneath her feet and then shouts were
going up in alarm, confusion, bits of panic. No one paid her any mind as
she put her hands back in her pockets, picked up her ditty where she left
off and strolled right off the grounds.

It was time to figure out where the next fire should be set and Ryn reckoned
it was high time to get a little bit of revenge in on some gnomes that had
given her a splitting headache a few days prior.

Setting off again, heading south of Arkane this time, the woman took her
time to stop by the Essence and have a bit to eat. While she settled down
to a plate of "sketti", eating elegantly despite her pirate attire - spoon
supporting the noodles as she twirled them around her fork - she smiled to
herself.

Yes, the evening was certainly starting to fill with a good bit of promise.




Writer: Meryna

Date Tue Jun 24 00:11:31 2014

To Verminasia All - Imm RP

Subject {{When A Pirate Be Bored: Part Four}


Wandering Oldest Ground Road, Ryn examined every shop, examining her best
bet for causing mischief. She strolled through the bath house, watching the
filter gears work through the water. It was promising, but the moisture in
the air would most certainly put a damper on things. Leaving there, she
continued wandering about and then finally climbed up into the Clockworks.

It was so beautifully ripe for chaos so felt tears of joy brimming in her
multi-colored eyes.

Looking around for a while, again using her pirate in-your-face brand of
sneakiness, she eventually located the center of the gears. As the massive
pieces of metals circled, whirred and spun, ticking and clonking endless to
do things she would probably never really understand, her mind worked in
similar fashion. She watched a while, then slipped three grenades from her
pockets.

With care not to be caught as other adventurers and people of note passed
by, Meryna placed All three of the grenades into a small pile in the center
of the main gear. Lighting them, she slid down to the road below and made
her way as quickly as possible out of the Factory.

She didn't quite make it this time, the loud, violent blast knocking her off
her feet and to the ground. She let out an "oomph" as her body slammed into
the dirt, leaving her a little breathless from the impact.

As smoke started to fill the air, gears shrieking, gnomes screaming and
shouting a mixture of horror and disbelief, Ryn groaned and flopped to her
back before sitting up. She gave her head a firm shake, climbing to her
feet and watched as gnomes either went running for cover or toward the
source of the chaos. Gears came tumbling down from above, smaller ones that
were going to be easily replaced, and she wondered if the large gear had
even suffered at all. She could just make out the flicker of flames
overhead, though gnomish contraptions and officers were already en route to
douse the fires and restore order.

Still, it was done, and Ryn felt a bit of pleasure at vengeance achieved.

All that was left was to defile something, and she knew just the thing to
sully. Turning about and exiting the factory, she followed the pathway back
toward the ruins of Balifore.

As she walked, rubbing her ribs as now and then they uttered a protest with
a sharp pang, she let her mind drift. It was only when she felt a sharp
pull on her hair that she realized she had the added weight of a rather
foul-smelling and ugly imp sitting upon her shoulder.

"Ahoy there, Kahlyn, " she greeted the imp, fishing a muffin from her pouch
to feed the wretched thing. He gobbled the sweet pumpkin treat with so much
eager relish she rather wondered if he tasted it at all.

"Reckon ye musta done somethin' wrong again. Guess ye cin swing with me a
bit. Bout to do somethin' right hilarious, " she told the imp.

In return, the beady little eyes stared back at her and a fanged grin
appeared.




Writer: Meryna

Date Tue Jun 24 00:46:48 2014

To Verminasia All - Imm RP

Subject {{When A Pirate Be Bored: Part Five - Final}


Funny things happen to imps when you feed them enough sugary items. By
the time she reached the statue, Kahlyn looked positively wretched. Well,
more wretched than the nasty bugger would normally look in his stinking
loin-cloth and his sallow, putrid skin. The gods knew she had bathed him
once. It had been a horribly, terrifying experience as she learned the
little thing could talk. Albeit it had been a screeching of such unbearable
harshness she now and then had trouble hearing out of her left ear, and the
words had been in a language she didn't understand, but he could talk. A
pity she couldn't imitate the notes or the syllables, because she was
certain the small demon had been cursing her something pretty.

It might explain All her recent bad luck with Chance Games like dice and
cards.

She'd lost so much money.

With a shrug, Ryn reached up and sat the imp down in front of the statue of
Malachive. He blinked up at her while she studied the alabaster figure,
reading the plaque beneath it. The very concept of the thing repelled her.
Which was ironic because she had run around a lot as a child saying she had
no need for gods, and they no need of her. While she figured the second
part of that was still true, the first definitely wasn't.

She rather admired both Mencius and Devion, connecting their respective
spheres at any chance she could to suit her own goals and philosophies.

A rather distressed noise came from near her feet and she looked down as the
imp grabbed his stomach. She grinned.

"Reckon I should o' mentioned... That were a prune muffin. Bad recipe,
that. Doesn' sell well, but damn it be right hilarious t'slip 'em in 'ere
an' there an' watch people run fer it.
"

The imp chattered angrily at her, but she just laughed and waved a
dismissive hand at the creature. She then pointed to the statue, giving
Kahlyn a wicked grin.

"Why don' ye go 'ave a seat on its head? Reckon it could use a new paint
job.
"

The imp stopped chittering, its beady little eyes narrowing as it considered
her suggestion. It made an odd noise, something she'd fail to describe
though it reminded her something of a turtle sneezing, and then was on top
of the statue in a blink.

She couldn't watch the rest.

While the imp did his thing to the statue, Meryna knelt down and dug through
her pack, finally producing a small, sealed can of paint. She popped the
lid and looked down inside, grinning at the obnoxious hot pink color. Now
that would make a kender proud.

When the imp was done doing his thing, the ensuing stench was wretch worthy,
and Meryna had to fight back a heavy heave of her gut. Gods, and she
thought she'd stank up a room when she was younger rolling around in the
streets. As quickly as possible, she threw the paint All over the statue
and used a long stick to write a message into the pink and green mess as it
started to dry and cake on.

O. R. B.
WITH LOVE - The Kender

Satisfied, grinning, she shoved her hands in pockets and wandered back home.
She had a report to write.




Writer: Demyan

Date Tue Jun 24 09:23:46 2014




Writer: Calvissus

Date Tue Jun 24 14:55:59 2014




Writer: Ashlen

Date Wed Jun 25 03:27:00 2014




Writer: Alessia

Date Wed Jun 25 20:38:11 2014




Writer: Ulrog

Date Wed Jun 25 23:14:06 2014

To All Grumf Julthax Raije Imm RP

Subject *A Lesson in Headbutts*


Ulrog wipes a trickle of blood off his forehead. The cut is small, but
every time the dwarf slams his head against the cave wall, he feels it
tearing larger. He normally spends a few hours out of every day alone in
the cavern, the only sound a series of dull thunks echoing from the walls.


Bloodae thieves, he thought. The kingdom must have awful security, the
crown jewels bae stolen ah few dozen times every day..

When the monotony gets too much for him, he comes to the cave. According to
his mentor, Julthax, this will end up strengthening his forehead for his
headbutts as a battlerager, but for now, its just turning it black, blue,
and bloody. He pushes past the pain though. He has his orders, and he
would be damned before he disobeys them.

SMACK!

Another charge, another burst of pain. He could feel the ridge of his
forehead beginning to swell and harden, but he did not know whether it was
becoming callous or it was just the massive size of his bruise.

THWACK!

He slams into the wall once more and plops on his rear, dazed and dizzy from
the punishment he put himself through. Struggling to his feet, he charges,
erratically, once more towards the wall, lowering his head and bashing it
with the base of his forehead, as Julthax had taught him.

BOOM!

- - -

- - -

When Ulrog wakes, he is lying on the cave floor, a small trickle of blood
crusted on his face, going down into his beard. With a groan, he pushes
himself up, determined to get the better of this wall before he returned to
do more work for Dredin. Inanimate object be damned, he would teach this
cave a lesson.




Writer: Jonathen

Date Thu Jun 26 10:26:52 2014




Writer: Nar'lin

Date Thu Jun 26 23:10:32 2014




Writer: Alessia

Date Fri Jun 27 06:28:26 2014




Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Fri Jun 27 15:27:37 2014

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

Subject Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Four)


The hardhat wearing gnome flinched at Furui's last statement, as if he
had been struck with a physical blow. The diminuitive man gave the gnome a
moment to gather his thoughts, then slowly returned to a standing position.
The gnome's gaze followed upward to match his.

"Alright. You have my undivided attention." , Thimtax forced the words out
irritably.

"Outstanding!" Furui quickly panned the courtyard, his gaze settling on a
gate to the east. "Now, come with me. We'll go out that way. Hardly
anyone seems to be over there. I've no desire to be bothered further."


Passing through gates 'G' and 'H' of the courtyard was an uncommon
occurrence. This quadrant of Mart-Town was not yet approved for
development. This was not to say, this quadrant was deserted by any means.
The 'Originals', those who settled around the tower site at the time of
groundbreaking, and in some cases, even earlier than that, were allowed to
stay in place, wherever that place might have been. The lion's share of the
Originals had settled the southern area leading up to the Tower, if for any
reason, for the sheer convenience. But scattered around the final quadrant
were a few small cottages and dwellings, and a smattering of people walking
about, though there were no shops or merchants to be seen.

Furui strode briskly through gate 'G', and into the yet-to-be-named road
beyond it. The hardhat wearing gnome has little choice but to trot after
him, just to keep up. He noticed a burlap sack slung over the unassuming
man's shoulder as he did so. Catching up to the man, he spoke anxiously.

"Well? Let's hear it. Tell me why I can't claim my tower to be perfect?
And what more, tell me how -you're- going to make it so I can?"


Maintaining his brisk pace, he answered almost immediately. "Think about
it, friend."
Furui's words now took on an uncharacteristically familiar
tone. "How does a sculptor determine his work is perfect? How does a
gemcutter know when he has created the perfect gem?"
Without stopping, the
man turned his head towards Thimtax. "They can, because they can examine
their work from every angle. They scrutinize their work, seeking out any
possible defects or flaws. They get eye to eye with their work,
scrutinizing its surface for any signs of imperfection. You, do not have
that capability."


"Well, that may be, good sir, but we have many mathematical and geometric
formulae which tell us specifically wh-"


Furui stopped the hardhat wearing gnome's words with his annoyed retort.
"And you're willing to trust your formulae and your equations, to be able to
claim perfection for your tower? This tower, that your god has granted you
the ability to create?"


Thimtax flinched as if he had just been slapped in the face. How could he
possibly know about that? The only one he had mentioned that fact to was
the Chairman, and he could not see the Ixi and Ol' Brassy socializing. Not
even a little. Once again, Furui had him pegged. Perhaps this was simply
another example of the superior minds of the dragon race. The two reached
the outer gate and strode out onto the meadow, towards the direction of
Momiji's Field.

"Well?" Furui spoke coyly. "Aren't you going to ask me something?"

Thimtax seethed inside. Furui just couldn't make this easy on him.
Trembling, he finally forced his question through his teeth.

"Very well. And just how in the blue abyss are -you- planning on helping
me?"


Furui flashed a wide smile and stopped, causing to gnome to move several
steps forward in his haste before realizing the man had stopped. He turned
around in time to see the final stages of his transformation back into
dragon form. The burlap sack now dangled from his maws.

"Here. You're a resourceful fellow," Ol' Brassy shook his head gently,
causing the content of the sack to drop to the ground. "Figure out how to
put thessse thingsss on me. I've never taken a rider before."





Writer: Crystallis

Date Fri Jun 27 19:51:35 2014

To All Verminasia Rikam Drew Calev Drakkara Imm rp

Subject To Do List...part 2


Crystallis left her 'to do list' on her desk as she began walking through
different aisles in her library, randomly scanning over the books and tomes
lining the shelves. The second thing on her list was her task at
Camaraenaus, which consisted of ostriches and witchcraft. Two things she
knew very little about. Yet, Baron Picard-Oneiroi did a very good job of
convincing her that she was an expert on both subjects. Now here she was
roaming through her library, searching for anything that may aid her in
learning the affects of potions on ostriches.

The enchantress scanned through several books as she walked amongst the many
shelves lining the massive chamber. The ones she liked, she released to
float next to her and follow her throughout the library. The books she did
not need were carefully returned to the shelves as she continued on with her
search. After several minutes of searching, the dark elf decided she had
enough material to look over and walked back to her desk.

She didn't feel like she would need to dig too deeply into her research.
The Baron's son, a skilled warlock and academic, would be taking over the
project and Crystallis would be there to assist. The enchantress was able
to breath a bit easier now, the dark elf was relieved that an actual warlock
and ostrich expert would be leading the way. The thought of brewing potions
and their often unpredictable results made her more than a tad nervous. She
would happily step aside and assist, while perhaps learning a little more
about and to also better respect the art of witchcraft.

Crystallis nestled cozily into her chair and opened up a book, her manicured
fingertip trailed along the words as she skimmed over the pages. She would
be visiting the barony soon, and therefore meeting the ostriches. Drew had
suggested they work with the more docile ostriches, and Crystallis could not
agree more. The enchantress, not wanting to be bitten or kicked, was more
than happy to begin by working with the ones who were a bit more calm.
Being a cautious mage, Crystallis was determined to do some research before
she departed for the barony. The dark elf scanned over the pages hoping to
expand her knowledge on the flightless bird, so far she knew they could be
quite large, quick, and short-tempered, and she and Drew were going to
enhance them with witchcraft, while somehow controlling the results. The
enchantress took a deep breath. This would be fun.

'Mistress..? ', came a soft Elvish whisper from behind Crystallis. The
dark elf closed her book and placed it back on her desk. It was several
hours later. She must have dozed off while reading, not hearing the young
servant approach her. 'There is a package here for you. ', the maiden
continued with a smile, holding the parcel out before the enchantress. The
dark elf's emerald eyes widened, sparkling with sudden excitement, 'Thank
you, my dear.. You are excused.
', she replied in Elvish, accepting the
package from the elven girl's hands. It was already here. The gnome had
finished it quickly. It was the container she needed to transport her
grandson's food from Atstlomme, a smaller version at least. Crystallis did
not want to take a chance in ruining a large shipment of Calev's wares, so
she would transport a smaller amount on her first trip. She needed to make
sure this would work, that it would keep the food cool. It had to, it was
her only idea.

Crystallis set the package aside and drew a line threw Camaraenaus on her
list. She was tired of reading about ostriches. While she could normally
spend days huddled away in her library reading about the most random of
subjects, she felt like she would learn a lot more about the birds when she
actually visited the barony. The dark elf looked down at her list of things
to do. The next was a donation of utmost importance- to the construction of
a massive monastery of Drakkara.




Writer: Amyth'lynn

Date Sat Jun 28 12:20:55 2014




Writer: Eszka

Date Mon Jun 30 13:20:13 2014

To All Arkane Fynix Zarina Aphasian Letholdus (rp)

Subject One Ill Fated Night



She fought against the remainders of memory and time. Her body curling
into itself, wings pressed tightly against her. Her father speaking in low
words to her mother, a breath -

"Ma Misa -" More whispered words, the fire was crawling up their tree. How
could this happen? They were worshiped. The link between god and earth. A
villager's scream, she covered her ears. Her father grabbed her roughly by
the arm.

Little love, tremisa, do not forget what I have taught you," he spoke
sternly, his dark eyes moving to the front of their roost, the home that had
been theirs for All the fourteen years she knew. He looked at her with such
a loving grace.

"Dont leave me, ma Pera, what did you tell Mother? " She didnt have time to
even swallow, he left her and her mother, a dark backward glance and then -
gone.

"Marmie, whats going on? " She pleaded with her mother. But the Lady of
Dawn and Dusk would not answer her, instead she shoved things into a ruck
pack and tossed it to Eszka.

"You cannot question things now, Essie, take the pack and run to Haven.
Kalamethe la eth ma muel.
" Things are happening beyond what we control.
Those words haunted her. Her language a private hell of sounds and nuances
the world forgot.

Her mother pushed her towards the open back of their roost, their home. She
tried to beg over the sound of weapons and screams, the flashing crackling
sounds of the blaze. But her mother was adamant, it depended on their race,
she must go.

A little wounded, a little blind faith, Eszka fell from her nest to the
floor of forest, loam cushioning her landing. With rucksack she half
fluttered and ran through the dense, lush tropics All the way to Haven.

Dont leave me, Marmie, Pera. They never met up with her and when she
finally screwed up enough courage to go back, the village was gone. There
was nothing left, but burnt out huts and their tree, their roost was little
more than a charred steeple. An effigy of horrific decimation to a people
she would never be part of again. Fourteen and orphaned, Eszka set off back
to Haven and tried to find her place in a world.




Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Mon Jun 30 14:41:10 2014

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

Subject Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Five)


"Hey, Ixi. Why we nut stop here? Get food. Ooof hungry."

The ogre in the grey pinstriped suit gazed hungrily towards the kitchen area
from the bottom of the stairwell leading up to the 86th floor of the tower.
The entire floor was immaculate. Stainless steel counters and cabinets
lined the pristine kitchen. The remainder of the floor was a sea of tables,
chairs, and trash receptacles. The light of the early morning sun shining
through the eastern windows cast the cafeteria in a pinkish hue.

"Sorry, my friend. But none of these cafeteria will be stocked with food
until it is time to move everyone in. But when the tower is complete, we'll
have this cafeteria here, and one on floors 25, 45, and 65. Also, I'm
considering allowing a small number of food vendors to operate within the
courtyard area as well, provided they operate to our standards."


Ooof sniffed disdainfully, still looking back towards the empty kitchen.

"Well, fergive Ooof fer thinkin caf... Caferteria... Should gave food in
it."


"Come on, Ooof!" Ixi'kweez called from the top of the stairwell. "Forget
about that! You have to see what's up here!"




The ogre in the grey pinstriped suit crested the stairwell, and glanced
about the 86th floor. Upon first glance, it appeared to be empty. Then,
taking a step onto the floor itself, the ogre noticed that the entire floor
was covered in about three inches of ivory white sand. Further inspecting
his surroundings, he spotted several sparring dummies spread about, poised
in various offensive and defensive positions.

"Isn't is perfect!? Our very own duelling arena! I bet you weren't
expecting -this-, now were you?"

"It's just fer fightin?" The ogre seemed less than impressed. There
wasn't a lot of fighting at Ixi-Mart. In fact, the only one that did any
fighting at All at Ixi-Mart, was the Chairman. "You had a whole floor set
aside, just fer a duelling arena?"


"RRAAWWWRRRR!!!"

The Chairman bounded across the room effortlessly, drawing his blades and
cutting a cloth dummy to ribbons. He reached into the dummy's chest and
pulled out a little cloth heart, raising it victoriously over his head.

Ooof sighed and rolled his eyes at the Chairman's antics. "Let's get out of
here, Ixi. Ooof hungry. We're at the top anyway."


"Oh, but don't you want to go up top? The view is incredible! It would be
a shame to come so far, and not check it out!"


"Nut know, Ixi..." The ogre said apprehensively, "You think Thimtax wants
us up there?"


"Of -course- I think he wants us up there!" The Chairman answered
emphatically, without giving it a second's worth of thought, "Come on, Ooof!
Let's gaze upon the entire continent together! Now, how many ogres can say
they've done that from this high up?"





Writer: Calvissus

Date Tue Jul 1 12:51:36 2014




Writer: Calvissus

Date Tue Jul 1 12:51:46 2014




Writer: Amyth'lynn

Date Tue Jul 1 14:13:19 2014




Writer: Barakiel

Date Tue Jul 1 16:36:14 2014




Writer: Erebaal

Date Thu Jul 3 15:30:44 2014

To Chaos All ( Immortal Religion Malachive Scorn )

Subject Reshaping


The forge-fires of the Warp burned hot. Laboring acolytes tended the
flames with a manic intensity, spurred to action by the baleful presence of
the butcher in their midst, a hungry predator who loomed over the other
souls in the vast chamber in his imposing mail. He had little part to play
in the grand construction taking place in the room, save as its architect
and recipient of its result. So invested was the brutish figure that he did
not hesitate to smash a flagging tender aside and take his place at the
bellows, straining with growls of exertion to keep the flames roaring and
hot.

The greatest smiths of the chaotic enclave toiled relentlessly, aware all
too keenly of the gaze upon them. Of the forces of Chaos arrayed across
Algoron, they were the best bladesmiths short of the hand of the Everchosen
himself- the task before them just menial enough that the Word Bearer did
not call for the chosen hand of Malachive to undertake it. One sweating
figure took up the tongs and withdrew the searing metal from the heart of
the cackling flame, the metal cherry red and shimmering with more than mere
heat. The malicious presence of its wielder almost seemed to awaken a
latent sense of dread in the arcanium as well

The old maker's mark of the dwarf-king who created the original template was
obliterated, an etched star of eight replacing the seal. Likewise, the old
double-headed design was no more, the twin heads being reshaped with
painstaking care over the course of hours into a single face, flat and
viciously hooked. The curved haft of the weapon had already been
laboriously prepared, carved of the heartwood of a great vallenwood tree at
great effort- a secret sojourn into the elves' sacred forest that left
behind a scene of misery and desecration. The wooden haft had been treated
with a blood-laden oil, an unguent applied over murmuring voices whispering
blasphemous supplications, fresh sacrifices taken in to be bled dry by the
hour as each surface was meticulously tended to, coated several times until
the great wooden pole was lacquered and ready for the ornamentation that
would make it an instrument of war.

The acolyte smiths carried the glowing bearded axe-head to the quenching
barrel, the oil also mixed with the blood of the lunar gods' faithful,
desecrated corpses of the False Pantheon's calling exsanguinated to mix with
the cooling agent to properly instil the spirit of creation the Word Bearer
demanded of his new weapon. It was to be as he was, blood-drenched and
forever hungry, a construction of unending violence and un-satisfiable
destruction. It was to be a worthy successor to his former weapon, the
inhumanly-large companion that now stood vigil in the corner of the tiny
crypt in which he once lay.

With tremulous hands, the crafters began to affix the axe's head to the
haft, apprentices bringing mallets to the fore to drive the new bolts
through the haft and secure the enormous axe-head in place. One clumsy
mis-timed his strike and the hammer blow fell clumsily, skating off of the
surface of the cooling axe-head. A blood-colored blur caught him in the
throat and he collapsed upon himself, aspirating blood as his eyes glazed
over. The Word Bearer did not even spare him a second glance but instead
focused upon the other robed souls working for his ends. It was to be their
finest creation, and there was no room for failure.

Not an hour later, the axe-head secured and the haft wrapped in leather for
his convenience, the Word Bearer stood in the Tropican heat with his new
weapon. Length-wise, it was a half-hand taller than he was, with an axe
head longer than from the top of his head to the middle of his breast. He
could feel the malice surging through the desecrated weapon, and his gloved
hand tightened its grip on the newly-formed haft. It was time to baptize
his new companion.




Writer: Rikam

Date Thu Jul 3 21:29:36 2014




Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Fri Jul 4 16:04:32 2014

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

Subject Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Six)


"Weeeeeeeeeeee!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"

The massive brass dragon craned his head back towards the gleeful gnome, as
he flew a lazy circle around the tower and the surrounding countryside. Ol'
Brassy's visage was one of half annoyance, half amusement.

"Mussst you sssqueal like that? You act asss if you've never ridden one of
the Firssstborne before."


"I -haven't- ever ridden a Firstborne before! What in the world would've
given you that impressioohmygodthisissoamazingWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"


Ol' Brassy shook his gigantic head and returned his gaze forward. There was
hardly a cloud in the sky this morning, the sun shining brightly from the
east. There were no unusual wind currents to worry about. It was the
perfect day for flight. A slight movement caught the dragon's eye, and he
shifted his focus towards the tower. Scrutinizing the upper tower, he could
make out two figures. One was clearly the Chairman. The other, larger
figure, Ol' Brassy did not recognize.

"Clearly, you need to get All thisss excitement out of your sssyssstem, so
perhapsss we ssshould have a bit of fun firssst."


"Fun!? Howcouldyoupossiblythinkthisisn'tfun!?" Thimtax piped up, still
feeling the adrenalin rush from his first flight.

Sighing, the dragon continued. "The Ixi'kweez is near the top of the tower.
Perhapsss one or two floorsss from the top. He hasss a large humanoid thing
accompanying him."


Thimtax squinted in the direction of the tower, but his eyes were no match
for Ol' Brassy's. From this distance, he couldnt see anything inside.
"I'll have to take your word for it. If that's Ixi, and I'm sure it is,
then that must be Ooof with him. Ixi's probably taking him to the very top,
to show him the view."


"Yesss, of courssse..." The dragon mused out loud. "That harnessssss you
put on me. You've got it on nice and tight, yesss?"


"Oh sure..." Thimtax replied coolly. "You'd sooner shake one of your own
scales off before this thing comes loose!"


"Yesss, I had expected asss much. Let usss meet the Ixi'kweez and the Ooof
thing at the top, and sssay 'Hello'."





Writer: Atarvarno

Date Sat Jul 5 12:49:03 2014




Writer: Crystallis

Date Sat Jul 5 22:01:01 2014

To All Verminasia Rikam Drew Imm rp

Subject Camaraenaus: Enchantress to Farm Girl..


Crystallis stood in front of a full-length mirror in the bedroom of her
home outside of New Thalos. The dark elf barely recognized herself, dressed
in an attire completely unfamiliar to her. The reflection cast back at her
was not the high elf enchantress she was used to seeing, but instead the
image of farmgirl ready to begin the day's work.

Custom-tailored clothing had arrived to her home just this morning along
with its seamstress who had been busy All day taking in a little fabric here
and letting out a little more there, ensuring the Mistress of the manor was
satisfied with product of her well-spent money. The dark elf needed the new
clothing. The enchantress had closets full of the finest clothes- dainty
dresses, rich robes, courtly gowns, and elegant cloaks, not a single item
could be worn on a ranch full of massive, unpredictable ostriches.

The dark elf had her new maiden, a wild elf she had become very close to,
bring in another mirror so she could better examine herself from All angles.
She wore a cottony shirt, dyed a light shade of purple, its material was
light and airy, willowy against her full-feminine frame. Its sleeves
slinked their way down to her wrists, protecting her slender arms. She had
requested that All of her shirts be made with long sleeves, terrified of
what the harsh sun and taloned livestock would do to her delicate, unmarred
skin.

The shirt tucked into a pair of tan cloth pants, the waist adorned by a dark
brown leather belt. The pants were a perfect fit, contoured to her shape as
they disappeared into dark brown leather boots that rose to mid-calf. The
enchantress smoothed her hands over her hips as she continued to examine
herself and the seamstress' handiwork. 'Are they supposed to fit like
this..?
', she questioned her maiden, 'Do they make my hips look too
big..? I've never worn -pants- before..
', she continued in Elvish with a
sarcastic smirk. The maiden laughed softly as she shuffled with the mirror,
trying to keep up with her Mistress' twists and turns, 'You do know,
M'lady..
', she replied in Elvish, speaking in a modest tone, 'That you
will be covered in dirt.. Sweat.. And possibly ostrich manure..
', she
laughed softly, 'I do not know that it really matters. '

Crystallis sighed at her image with a slight pout as she placed an indigo
sun hat on top of her head. The hat was large, floppy, and a loud bright
color- everything she expected considering she bought it from the Rikam's
shop. The hat covered her pointed ears and thick alabaster hair, its wide
brim would do well at shading her from the sun. She adjusted the hat on her
head, still posing in her farm attire, 'I am hoping that Drew will do most
of the 'dirty' work..
', she laughed softly as she thought of the scholarly
warlock, spending his free time in different libraries around Algoron,
'but.. We will see. '




Writer: Syrieni

Date Sat Jul 5 23:03:40 2014




Writer: Rhowena

Date Sun Jul 6 02:35:31 2014




Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Sun Jul 6 12:14:53 2014

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

Subject Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Seven)


Ooof crested the stairwell and walked into the open air, which would
eventually become the 87th floor of the Ixi-Mart Tower. He could see
nothing but the azure morning sky All around him. Not a cloud was in sight.
Being at the center of the floor, the world below was still blocked from the
ogre's view. He found the experience exhilirating, as well as a bit
disconcerting. He slowly lumbered over towards the Chairman, who was
leaning forward on the lower half of the northern part of the wall, which
had been built the day before.

"So, old friend," the Chairman spoke pleasantly, keeping his eyes focused
on giant mountain to the north. "Did you ever think you would witness such
a great view of Thaxanos? Isn't it magnificent?"


The ogre in the grey pinstriped suit pulled a pair of tiny round spectacles
from his lapel, and forced them onto his massive head, peering out over the
northern countryside. Ooof grunted his approval quietly.

"And over here..." The Chairman shouted, already running towards the
eastern part of the tower, "You can see the Vallens! The whole damn
forest!"


The ogre shook his head in mild amusement, and made his way over towards the
Chairman. He rested his elbows on the wall next to the Chairman, and gazed
out over Shalonesti's seemingly limitless forest.

"Shalonesti's Festival of the Stars will be in a couple of weeks. The
entire city and forest will be just full of wonderful lights and sounds.
Why, I bet at night, from up here, you can see All th-"


-WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH- "WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

The two board members dove to the floor in abject terror, as the huge brass
dragon broke the plane of the roof and careened stright upward, not ten feet
from where they were standing. Ol' Brassy pulled up about fifty feet above
them and hovered above them menacingly.

"HIIXI!!!! HIOOOF!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

With that, the huge, brass dragon bellowed triumphantly and lunged forward,
continuing its breakneck pace towards the west, screaming hardhat wearing
gnome in tow.

"What in the blue abyss?! Was.. Was that Thimtax?!" The Chairman managed
to gasp out in short breaths.

He turned to the ogre in the grey pinstriped suit, who was in turn giving
the Chairman the evil eye, and offering no reply whatsoever. Ixi'kweez
looked towards the sky where Ol' Brassy and Thimtax had just been, and
looked back to Ooof again.

"Oh, no! Absolutely not! You're not blaming this one on me!"




Writer: Drew

Date Sun Jul 6 13:04:39 2014

To All Rikam Crystallis Verminasia imm rp

Subject You can't train an ostrich. Pt. 1



Camaraenaus Ranch -

Drew, "Three", Picard-Oneiroi sat on the fencing surrounding a pen of his
father's ostriches with one leg dangling freely and the other perched on the
mid-level cross-beam. Glasses, whip, and leathers were exchanged for
clothing that wouldn't be so difficult to clean or repair. Altogether he
looked every part the rancher, wearing a off white cotton shirt he tucked
into a common everyday pair of dirt brown pants which were held up by an
ostrich shapped brass buckle. To his father's great disappointment he took
out of inventory a regular old straw hat.

Out in the distance near the front gate a carriage stopped, letting out Miss
Ryndyll. What little he knew about her came from his father's
recollections, plus a few quick conversations. She'd been around a while
though that was always hard to know without being told when it came to
elves. A self proclaimed 'helper' she certainly was agreeable enough to
work with on this project, some nonsense about war bird breeding, but then
again stranger things had happened.

Miss Ryndyll appeared to have an inclination to purple, Drew thought, as he
went out to greet the woman. She didn't do All too bad for preparing
though, and so he gave her a tour, introduced her to the big chickens, and
went over some basic notes of observation.

Note 1 - Ostriches are not smart, and can't be trained to do anything of
complexity, and not much of anything even simple.

Note 2 - They are fast, they have excellent health for birds. Drew'd never
seen one so much as catch a sniffle.

Note 3 - They only take a year to reach their adult size.

Of course there are more to them than those few simple basics, but those
seemed to be the important points.

Then the time came to meet the devils. Though most birds are curious, the
ostriches were given a double dose of it. Immediately they began to inspect
this stranger in purple with her Rikam trademark hat. (something hopefully
Drew could get a commission on later). He offered the farm girl convert a
small fist full of feed and she quickly made some new friends though at the
prices of a few pinches to her palm by an overly zealous beak.

The ostrich is normally a friendly bird, if not humorous to watch move about
on it's awkwardly long legs and twist it's head to and fro on an equally
long neck. Ugly as sin though.

Drew showed Miss Ryndyll to the stalls he had cleaned out and prepared for
the future breeding of the birds, a place of a pleasant smell as you can
certainly imagine.

"So that's about the long and short of it. My suggestion, ma'am, is we pick
out a few of the stronger, faster ones and see what we can do to magically
modify them. We might spend more time in a library than out here. I think
if we are gonna go about it practical-like, I suggest the ones we breed we
try to manipulate the size so they can be saddled, then you and I can work
on some designs for armoring them. You know, like maybe some kind of iron
beak plate or something along those lines"

Drew then held up what appeared to be just one large sleeve of cloth, sewn
shut at one end. He didn't need to give an explination, as Miss Ryndyll
gave a simple laugh and nodded in understanding. Together they went into
the fenced in area where the fun began.

"Drew, that one would be perfect!" Miss Farm-girl exclaimed. Of course she
pointed out to the largest one.

For a librarian Drew didn't quite fit into the norm, being quite tall,
tanned, and reasonably athletic. All that counts for nothing against a near
seven foot bird that has a good sixty pounds on you and isn't of the mind to
have a giant sock put over it's head. A large plume of dirt clouded up from
where Drew let go of the giant turkey after being drug a good distance. He
spit out a few feathers that a wing to the face had so kindly offered him.

There was nothing to do for it accept to get up and try again. What a day
this would be.




Writer: Ryael

Date Mon Jul 7 14:48:33 2014




Writer: Donelan

Date Tue Jul 8 15:06:09 2014

To Marauders Imm New_Thalos ( All )

Subject Temples of Raije - A kenders path to Soldiering


Donelan walks through Thaxanos. Mostly just dodging drunken dwarves, or
the occasional thug that thinks this kender is an easy mark, only to have
his muscles go slack and his purse go a little lighter. After a few hours
of wrong turns and bad dwarven directions, he finally finds what he's walked
all this way for. The temple of Raije. Walking through heavy wrought iron
gates he steps slowly into the antechamber. Donelan is stopped by the shear
beauty of the temple. Steel and iron weapons of every kind line the walls.
The altar is covered with blood from the wounded, some moreso than others.
Making his way through the room, he is met with odd looks. Have these
people never seen a soldier before? Or was it because Donelan is Kender?
Making his way through the gauking throng of pilgrims and acolytes, he finds
the head priest. In a back corner he stops, takes a breath and asks a
simple question : 'Priest, howcan someoneof mystature, being kenderkin,
servein Hisarmy? '
Turning the priest looks at Donelan and simply blinks.


'You can't possibly be serious? Standing the priest towers over him. 'You
little man aren't built for war, you should take up dancing or singing or
whatever it is your kind do, and do that for his army. If an army would
take such as you.
Donelan looks up at the priest, stunned. His own priest
has no faith in his people to do anything of worth but sing and dance. To
be comic relief to those who are suffering and in pain. He isthe godofWar,
ineach warare battles, each battledefining whatcomes next. Iwill showwhat
mypeople arecapable of..
Turning he swiftly draws his dagger and walks
outside. Not wanting to seem cowardly he chooses a random dwarf, one sober
and having his wits. Donelan attacks with speed and agility, striking the
dwarf's armor like a squirrel in the trees. All the while he is muttering
under his breath, not even noticing his attacks are doing little damage.
Laughing, the dwarf parries and dodges most of them, the small cuts and
knicks he does get are shallow and not much more than papercuts. Then
suddenly, the laughing stops as boils and sores break out All over his skin.
His axe becomes almost too heavy to lift, the small cuts and gouges becoming
more than one can count. His energy is sapped even more as he feels the
curses seep into his bones. After only twenty minutes the dwarf stumbles
and Donelan slips the dagger under his throat 'Surrender ordie dwarf'
Dropping his axe he mutters his surrender. Walking back into the temple he
stands before the priest 'Doubt willbe mycompanion. Doubt thatwe kenderkin
canbe anythingother thanwhat people thinkwe shouldbe. ThenI willsurprise
themand win becausethey won't beexpecting Raije's warrior, anditis Hethat
willmake mewin. Turning, Donelan walks out of the temple, a triumphant
smile on his face. Seeing the dwarf being carried in, he stops and passes
his small hands over the much larger dwarven frame, healing the sores and
boils of the plague. Whistling, he begins his long walk back to the desert
jewel, for now, his home.




Writer: Helga

Date Tue Jul 8 23:06:43 2014




Writer: Syrieni

Date Tue Jul 8 23:16:18 2014




Writer: Diuxa

Date Wed Jul 9 02:51:44 2014

To All Chaos ( Malachive Aoko Erebaal Scorn Imm )

Subject Somnolence III



She stood in the suffocating corridor and gazed with silent intensity at
the message scrawled beside the symbol of warding.

She knew what it meant and a rare emotion was stirred from the red depths of
her soul.

It was akin to her fury, but deeper. Something that ran beside the loss of
her innocence, encompassing a thing she could not speak of and often buried
so deep beneath her hatred that it was easy to forget.

She gave the emotion no name, for in doing so she would have to embrace it
fully and that was a line she could not cross. Instead, she gave it a face
and as the memory came to life again, a persona.

It mattered. It would always matter, even if time forgot.

Her eyes closed out the tunnel, the heavy door with its message and symbol,
the sounds of industry from deep within the Warp and the metallic heat
causing sweat to bead on her green skin. The distractions disappeared and
on her exhale, everything stopped.

A breath of wind slipped through her hair, a soft laugh that remembered
light-hearted joy and bright purity whispered around her - a parting echo of
a memory even she would lose in time.

"Your spirit joins with our ancestors." Her own voice was layered with
others. Others who had come before. Whom she knew lingered, watching,
waiting for vengeance or at the very least, vindication before they could
rest.

Her sight had looked upon them once and would know them until the day she
ended.

"Know peace."

And on an exhale, her body slouched, the power receeding. The confines of
the tunnel returned, the stench of blood and earth infusing the air once
again and the pain of her God-given scars lashed across her back anew, as if
Malachive's touch had returned.

The pain funnelled into her fury and a trickling growl left her lips, an
ominous sound that stopped the incoming acolytes from approaching. She
swung away from the door, its message, its pain and went in search of an
outlet for her anger.




Writer: Isabel

Date Wed Jul 9 04:19:26 2014

To Justice All ( Roleplay Immortal Austinian Religion Nazca )

Subject The Priestess: Inspirations [Part I]


A cool evening breeze blew through the open window of Isabel's room,
sending the flames of the candles she burned flickering wildly. The shadows
danced over the scrolls and parchments that laid out before her. With care,
she cupped the flames with the palms of her hands, steadying them once more
so they would not be blown out. With a soft sigh, she sunk back into her
seat at the desk.

The late night hours had crept up on her unexpectedly. She had been so
preoccupied with her reading that she had not even noticed the sun dipping
down behind the horizon. The pillar candles sitting on her desk were melted
nearly halfway down too. Wax had dripped and pooled around them, causing
quite the mess. Thankfully none had managed to reach the many books and
scrolls that lay sprawled on the desk.

Isabel sighed then as she took out a small cloth from her drawer and picked
up the candles one by one, wiping away excess wax before setting them back
down in their places. Her eyes fell upon the orange flame of the last
candle and she could not look away. Her eyes locked intently upon it.

The words of the angel resonated within her as she stared at the bright
light. Darkness would always be a threat. She must strengthen her own
inner flame and not allow it to be snuffed out by lies and cruel words. A
priestess must lead by example, in both deeds and words.

"Father Austinian, please grant me courage and wisdom. I will need them
both." With a resolute purpose in her movements she retrieved a piece of
parchment and a bottle of ink from her nightstand.

The candles continued to burn far into the night as Isabel scribed. Upon
the parchment, the outline of what would be her very first sermon was
slowly forming and taking shape.




Writer: Erebaal

Date Wed Jul 9 06:07:31 2014

To All Chaos ( Religion Immortal Scorn Malachive )

Subject Baptism


It sang in his hands.

Erebaal swung his new axe, his new companion, about in reaping strikes,
splitting open bellies, necks, and skulls amidst the ranks of the unworthy
that had been captured in recent raids. These staunch adherents to the
False Pantheon- militant or otherwise- had been given a desultory chance at
self preservation with battered blades and wooden shields, turned loose in
one of the fighting pits that dotted the war camps of the Warp across
Tropica.

Some took the opportunity to try and die with dignity- rushing the Word
Bearer with prayers on their lips that were only too quick to become
agonized screams as the bearded blade tore into flesh. Some attempted to
clamber the steep earthen walls, or leap for the sharpened spikes that lined
the top of the pit to prevent escape.

It mattered little, the axe claimed them all.

Within the stifling confines of the monstrous helm, there were only two
sounds to the battle-maddened mind of the Word Bearer; the sound of his own
heart pounding in his ears and the wrathful murmur of his new instrument
demanding more sacrifices. A rational part of his warrior's mind knew the
latter to be a fantastic prospect. There were no personalities imbued into
metal and wood and leather, no driving forces that compelled its wielder to
kill. The remainder did not care. If the axe wished to kill, if the
reaping blade hungered, then so be it. In that respect, as they were in
several others, they were of one mind.

Another man fell, howling, as his arm came off at the elbow and his chest
was opened to the air, arterial gushes painting the muddy earth and
spattering on the earthen slope with the arc of the monstrous axe's swing.
The sheer force of it forced Erebaal to shift his footing to change the
momentum of his follow-up stroke, the whirl of the axe descending slamming
through the mortally-wounded fellow's skull and down into his chest,
splitting the way between his clavicles and into the sternum. The
grey-black head of the axe was slick and darkened with the blood of no fewer
than two dozen captives that were herded into the pit to be offered to the
Word Bearer and his hungering blade. Two dozen souls ripped, screaming,
from their bodies and hurled into whatever afterlife there was for those
taken by the Warp, by choice or by force.

The base of the blood-lacquered vallenwood haft planted in the sticky mud
with a squelch, the monstrous warrior leaning upon it for support as he
panted. The anointing of the axe had taken the better part of three hours,
of endless trials of combat against desperate men clinging passionately to
pathetic lives. Some of them had presented a fleeting challenge before they
were taken into death's embrace. His self-imposed ceremony was complete,
however. With a gloved finger, Erebaal scraped an eight-pointed star from
the blood caking the axe's head. A gravelly, foreboding chuckle sounded,
tinged with a metallic edge through the confines of his grisly mask, 'Yes,
my friend. You hunger still, and so do I. Soon, my companion, and we shall
gorge ourselves on the shrieks of the fallen. Drink deep of this offering,
and we shall claim a world's worth before we are through...
'

The Word Bearer looked up from his blade, his thoughts distracted from the
half-imagined voice in his ears as the sunrise broke over the treeline,
splashing gold and red along the inside wall of his fighting pit. Another
day had dawned, and there were slaves to liberate.

Whether they were willing to be unshackled or not, he did not care.




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 19:34:01 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part One


The morning was brisk, even for the lands of Althainia, a low fog
swirling about the patient feet of the horses. Each draft horse stood
mildly, their tack of royal blue and gray shining brightly with fresh oils,
while the Guards and one small woman inspected every last detail. The cart
for carrying supplies, gifts of fine fabrics and jewels, candies, medicines
and even musical instruments, was deceptively plain to dissuade robbers and
bandits. All of the gifts were carried within plain barrels marked "Flour"
and a wide sheet, the outside waxed against rain, was draped over them
before being tied into place.

Further still, over their armor, the Guards had been ordered to wear the
garb of the local country folk, their swords hidden beneath cloaks that the
woman had tailored herself. Each one was warm and would protect them from
the elements, but a tiny bit of magic had been used to make them look worn,
and even appear to have some holes. In the spirit of the endeavor, a few of
the male guards had even opted to let their facial hair grow for a more
scruffy appearance. Despite All appearances, a closer inspection would find
alert, wary eyes and a grim set to jaws. The place they went could prove
treacherous, filled with pitfalls and those unhesitant to kill - some had
said goodbies to their families with tears in their voices, promising with
all of their hearts to return.

When it appeared the horses, the cart, and the Guards were ready, the young
woman, dressed in truly plain garb, gathered All of the men together,
including one that did not appear to be a soldier at all. Grasping
Phadynos' hand, and the hand of a female guard next to her, Kailyri drew the
group into a circle, each one bowing their heads. A link was formed at that
moment, not of magic, but something truly otherworldly as their hearts
communed in a moment of silence, each knowing that they would All need to be
careful, and willing to give the greatest sacrifice for one another. Then,
the young Duchess began a soft prayer.

"Gentle, and powerful, Lords and Ladies of the Light, we pray to your holy
Names this day. This morning begins a journey in hopes of uniting the Lands
of Althainia with even more powerful bonds. We go into dangerous and
unknown territories to remind the people that they are not forgotten, nor
abandoned, but the journey could prove dangerous. Thus, we ask that each of
You grant us your blessings: Patience, understanding, wisdom, acceptance,
and strength, should we need it. We ask that You watch over us and Bless
our mission into the provinces, and keep hope in the hearts of our families
as we leave them to keep vigil. You are always and forever with us, Amen."

With that, the Duchess was helped up into the cart and the Lord Sunstone
took his place next to her, his hands lifting the reigns to start the horses
moving at a slow trod. The Guards, an even score in number, divided evenly
into mounted and on-foot, which would be periodically altered through the
journey, giving some the needed chances to rest. As if a portent of things
to come, dark clouds promising rain began to build in the west, a light yet
persistent mist clinging to clothes and skin alike. The young duchess
pulled her cloak more closely about her form and whispered one more prayer
under her breath as the band left the safety of Althainia's walls.




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 19:40:34 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Two


Several hours into the journey, a bit past midday, the captain of the
Guard drew his horse up alongside the cart. While his brown eyes peered
about at the dark, wet environs, he bent down to speak with Kailyri.

"There's no point in stopping Du- er, Miss," he said, quickly correcting
himself from uttering the title that would surely find unsavory ears. "The
mist has made everything wet. The men can eat astride, then switch out to
let the others do the same."

Frowning, the young woman nodded faintly once.

"You are certain there is no place that we can stop even for a little while?
I would like to give the horses a chance to rest, as well. The muddy ground
surely has been unkind to them, making the ground slick."

The Captain quickly shook his head, water droplets flying free of his short
black hair.

"We are only a short distance from entering unknown grounds," he replied,
the earnestness of his voice drawing a sigh from the young woman. "It truly is
against my better judgment."

"Very well," Kailyri conceded, letting the Captain fall back and give the
orders.

Phadynos released the reigns with one hand, reaching over to squeeze
Kailyri's wrist with gentle reassurance.

"It will be alright. They volunteered for this, remember?"

"I simply did not not expect to have to force them forward in these kinds of
conditions," she replied sadly, but shared a small smile with the mentalist
anyway. "Apple?" she offered, even as she pulled the fruit from her
burlap satchel.

"Yes, please" Phadynos replied, gladly taking the shiny red fruit and
biting into it with a noise of appreciation.

Some time later, after the men had rotated stations and had a chance to fill
their bellies with fresh bread, cheese and dried meat, the small convoy came
to a stop as the path began a sudden downward slope. The Captain again came
up alongside the cart, pulling a map from his saddle bag and unrolling it.
He examined the parchment for some time, gazing out into the Valley below -
or what could be seen of it - before handing the map over to the Duchess.
Her brilliant, turquoise eyes roamed the parchment, noting landmarks and
finally she nodded, rolling the drawing of the Provinces up tightly to hand
back to the leader of her Guard.

"This is the boundary, yes. I will need several moments to begin the map.
Can you have Lieutenant Wilson unpack the cartography table?
"

"Of course, Miss," her Captain responded and there was a bit of shuffling
while the men worked to do as ordered, even erecting the table under the
shelter of a tree that had seen better days.

Hopping lithely down from the cart, Kailyri took a moment to stretch her
aching muscles and force some blood flow back into her hands.

"I do not think we are going to get a break from this drizzle tonight," she
informed Phadynos as he maneuvered the cart into the woods to one side. "I
am going to have the Captain go ahead and let the men start up a camp. We
can have an early evening and be fresh for tomorrow."

"Very well," Phadynos replied, sharing a fond smile despite the
concentration creasing his brow. "I will see to the cart horses."




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 19:45:09 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Three


Later in the evening, the men had managed to find enough somewhat dry
wood to start a fire, the rest of the fuel drying in the flames. The
buttery light flooded the little glen they had found to the side of the
path, and a detailed scouting had recovered no signs of recent inhabitation.
While some of the guards took first watch, others settled around the fire,
amidst tents that had also been enchanted like their cloaks. The smell of
food, a large pot of stew boasting a freshly captured rabbit, filled the
area and a game of cards was quickly returning the spirits of the soldiers.
Kailyri, with the aid of a lantern, sat at her small desk, carefully drawing
up the details of the valley that their position afforded them, along with
the last vestiges of light from the dreary day.

"You really should finish that in the morning, Miss," came a voice from
behind her. Picking up her head from being bent over her task, the young
woman stretched out her neck, then turned to find Lieutenant Wilson. He
smiled sheepishly, blushing as the Duchess graced him with a warm, angelic
smile. He approached and placed a steaming bowl of stew on the table, along
with a chunk of bread and a cup of mead, as they had doubts about the nearby
stream working its way into the valley below.

"Yes, you are right," she conceded and rewarded the generosity of her meal
with a light pat to the young man's arm. This only proved to fluster him a
bit more, though a wide, boyish grin split his handsome features. It was a
pity his nose had been broken and never set right, but even the flat, broad
appearance suited him. "Go on, now, and join the others. I will be along
in a moment.
"

"Yes, ma'am," came the crisp response and the young woman waited until he
departed before she picked up her bowl and savored a small bite.

"Mm, could use a bit more basil," she murmured to herself.

The next morning brought with it the quiet bustling of well trained soldiers
picking up camp. After the supplies were repacked, double checked, and
triple checked, a head count was taken. The Captain, perhaps overly
paranoid, went up to every soldier, examining their face carefully. Once he
gave them a nod, the guard took up their place either on foot or on
horseback, though two helped to get the cart back onto the road and point
the horses in the right direction.

"Alright, Miss. The way proved clear of debris and less muddy than we
thought thanks to a quick scouting. You have done with your map?" the
Captain asked of her.

"Yes, I quite think so. I will take to the Wind later to see with sharper
eyes than my own," she responded. With that, the Captain gave the order
and the entire troop began down the side of the mountain, entering the
valley below.

As the Cart rocked beneath them, Kailyri took time to take in more details
while she could. The sun was out for the day, but she wondered how often
the weather turned inclement as toward the south there appeared to be the
beginnings of a boggy marsh. Still, while the golden rays fell down upon
thick forests, the previous gloom lifted and the young Duchess was able to
appreciate the finer details of the Valley below. Her hands began to fidget
as she itched to finish the descent and get a much closer look.




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 19:51:23 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Four


"Well, that last turn likely took a few years off of my life," Lord
Sunstone declared before leaning against the cart and wiping a bleeding hand
across his brow. Covered in mud, much like the young woman, the two, along
with several of the guards, were an unruly mess. Each of them panted
lightly, and looked about, taking stock of one another before the duchess
finally dipped her hand into her traveling pack to retrieve a canteen of
clean water and several herbs.

"Captain, I want a report of injuries, even the smallest cut. I am not
going to let an infection claim even one of us," Kailyri ordered firmly.
She did not give Phadynos even a chance to protest as she cleaned his hand,
then mixed up a poultice to place within the opened palm, securing it with a
tight binding of cloth. While she worked, the guards finished taking stock
of the cart's condition, and each other.

On the last part of the path, a clattering had garnered the attention of the
group before a shout from the back had gone up. A small mud slide had broken
free, sweeping up the cart while the foot soldiers and mounted men had
rushed out of the way. The damage had been minor, but the ensuing efforts
to dislodge the heavy vehicle had produced many falls and a few injuries on
sharp debris. The cart horses themselves were lathered and being walked in
circles to help them cool down.

"You are bleeding, Miss," came the words that drew Kailyri from her focus
of mixing poultices and tinctures for the others.

"What?" came her own surprised question before a dull ache in her calf
drew her attention downward. Sure enough, an open cut in her legging
revealed a small gash in her pale flesh, her warm blood already beginning to
dry and form the start of a scab. "Oh, yes. I will tend to that
momentarily," she assured the Guard.

Some time after All the injuries had been tended and the group allowed to
rest, Kailyri stood with Phadynos and the Captain, discussing their options.

"None of the injuries are serious. I promise you, Miss, that they will be
fine. We should press on,
" the Captain insisted for a second time. "This
area is too open, and we are at a huge disadvantage. The forests provide a
lot of cover and unfamiliar territory, and that rise we just came down? It
is the perfect spot for archers, or enemies with slings. Heck, they could
just push a few boulders off the edge and be done with us entirely. I am
telling you, we need to get into those woods ourselves, and before
nightfall. If you are really concerned about these men, you will let me do
my job, and I am sorry, but that means sometimes I have to push them hard.
Better dead tired, than simply dead."

A flush across her cheeks, Kailyri nodded and turned toward the ready and
waiting cart.

"Very well, Captain. My apologies, let us continue on, then," she
conceded, but before the Captain could say more, or Kailyri climb into her
seat, everyone froze.

"Hoy, there! Are ye folks alright?" came a cry. Then, twenty-two sets of
eyes turned, landing an a small group of people dressed like nomads.




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 20:06:12 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Five


"Hoy there! I said, are ye folks alright?" came the shout again, with
a little more insistence. At this point, however, the group could make out
that there were four people approaching, and the one shouting was a woman in
the front. She was tall and lean, short hair brushed back behind her ears
and kept from her face by twisting some of the blond locks. Though she did
wear furs, having granted the impression of a nomad, there were farming
tools clasped in the hands of the ones following her. Local villagers, even
farmers.

"Stand down, Captain, and await for a -sure- sign of aggression," Kailyri
ordered under her breath. Knowing her command would be obeyed, she smiled
reassuringly at Phadynos and then stepped forward, woman to woman.

"Yes, yes indeed!" she called back, though less loudly as the small group
came in close enough to determine eye color. Smiling her brightest, the
young duchess did her best to scrub a little more mud from her cheeks.
"There was a mud slide and our cart got stuck, but everyone is alright, now,
and we have the cart free."

"High God bless, that's good news," said the woman, and a murmur of
agreement went through the folks behind her, All larger men. "My name is
Anjya, and this is my husband Gill. The two others are Rohn and Edwin,"
she continued. "My younger boys were out here gathering mushrooms and
berries when they saw what happened. Ran straight back to the village, but
they painted a rather grisly scene."

"Oh my," whispered Kailyri before smiling and offering her hand out to
Anjya. After the two shook, she drew back her hand. "My name is Kailyri
Snowdragon, and I am here on exploration to learn about this area, and its
people. If you, and your family, would allow us, we would greatly
appreciate your hospitality."

Anjya laughed, bringing a surprised expression to Kailyri, but the older
woman kindly had mercy enough to explain.

"Even out here, we know that name. You are from the big city, then, the
Capital at that. I never expected one of our family to deign coming out
this far, or to cover themselves in mud and blood, so whatever you're doing
must be important. I will share my home, and even our Village, if you care
to tell me what this is All about.
"

At this point, both Phadynos and the Captain had come up behind Kailyri,
listening to the conversation. However, both of them remained politely
quiet, letting the two women in charge talk, just as the other men were
doing.

"It would be my honor, Lady Anjya, and my pleasure."

"Though," chimed in the Captain, "if you will not mind my saying so,
ladies, perhaps we could continue the conversation in the village spoken of?"

With another hearty laugh and a smile, Anjya nodded, then beckoned the group
with a wave. "Of course. Have your boys follow us this way. Maybe we can
even douse them in the river. You All look in keen need of a bath.
"




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 20:12:25 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Six


"Oh this is lovely indeed," sighed Anjya, her smile pleasant as she
cupped a steaming glass of milk and honey with a light sprinkle of cinnamon.
"I would never have thought of mixing these, certainly since we do not get a
lot of spices out this way."

"It was one of my favorite, rare treats as a child," Kailyri responded as
she settled into a worn rocker, her own glass of the mwyll in her hands.
"An Elvish drink, yes, but that does not mean we cannot enjoy it ourselves."

"It is a curiously enjoyable concoction," added Phadynos, which drew a
soft, angelic laughter from the young duchess, her hair still damp from a
bath.

After having arrived in the Village Anjya had spoken of there had been a
rush of activity. Many of the villagers had approached, most of them
farmers and gatherers, though a few hunters had been noted. Though the
soldiers had been wary at first, there had only been interest and even a bit
of admiration from the unwed young women. This had gone a long way in
picking up spirits and soon there were gifts being given from the cart -
mostly the fabric and spices. Afterward, there had been a fuss as the
horses were seen to and taken to one farmer's barn. In return, he had been
gifted one of the steeds to keep for himself. This had sent an awed gasp
through the entire crowed, quickly followed by more eager men and women
stepping forward. By the end of All the good-natured helping, every Soldier
had a place to sleep, a bath and a meal, his wounds freshly tended to.
Which lead to the current, after-dinner conversation being had between the
two women over glasses of mwyll.

The Captain shifted in his own seat, having refused to be separated from
Kailyri, more or less scowling at his cup rather than drinking. Across from
him, Phadynos, and the young duchess, Anjya reached out her hand to join
fingers with her husband, and the couple shared a loving smile. Their two
young boys were already asleep in the loft overhead, or were supposed to be,
but Kailyri had not missed the hushed whispers or the creak of the boards as
the two peeked down on the adults below. To hide a smile, she took another
drink from her mwyll, then let the cup rest in her lap.

"I am loathe to turn the conversation to business, but I gave you my word to
explain why we are here, and I would very much like to keep it,
" Kailyri
said softly, her regret and eagerness plain within her bright gaze.

"And I am eager to hear your words," Anjya agreed, continuing to nurse her
drink, her husband having drained his in only a few appreciative gulps
before refusing a second cup.

"Very well. Althainia, by the grace of the Emperor, Kahlyn Snowdragon, and
with much toil by the Lady Corszana Snowdragon, has decided that it is time
for Althainia to remind her lands, and her people, that they are not
forgotten. To do this, we have begun to split her territory into Provinces
and have given each tentative names to be secured after each has been
visited. We intend to map the areas, take stock of their people and their
talents and trades, and to determine what natural resources are within them.
Also, if need be, we will help to eliminate any threats and safeguard
against future ones so that those within can live without fear. In the
future, a Lord or Lady will be granted title and holdings. It would require
you to give your fealty to them, but in return their efforts could bring
much to your people: trade with the cities, namely, and protection, help.
You could likely see more people wanting work, or a simple life. Trade
would bring in more spices, fabrics, much needed medicine, and if the road
were to be tended more then scholars and even priests would journey here
more often."




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 20:14:28 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Seven


Deep into the evening, the two women, and the three men, discussed what
the sudden attention could mean for the Valley and the people that lived
there. Kailyri learned much of the people in the Village, which turned
about to have sister settlements through the Valley, which were currently
inhabited. In the spring, the people spread out to tend to various farms
and livestock, but in the late Fall after Harvest and during Winter, which
had already begun to turn to Spring, the people congregated into the one
main village - for safety and companionship during the darker days.

There were massive expanses of nut trees in the valley, which the people had
discovered a variety of uses for. Wild game ran abundantly in the forests,
which were lush with plants both edible and used for dyes or healing. In
the northern reaches of the valley, great falls poured fresh water into the
lands and there had been reports of several caves, which might possess ores,
minerals or gems, though no one in memory had been brave enough to explore
them. To the south, the marshes blocked the way to the sea, coming very
close to the territory of the City of the Dead. It was from this direction
that Kailyri received the most disturbing of the news. A creature,
something foul in stench and evil of nature, was determined to live. About
once a turning of the moon, it would stalk into the village and steal a
woman, or a child. Several of the livestock would be found drained of its
essence and out of fear, the villagers would burn the corpse, rather than
using the precious furs or meat.

By the time the moon had risen high and begun to set, the group had come to
several decisions. The people would submit to whatever Lord or Lady was
granted the Valley. They would also be certain to pool together and select
some huntsman to guide the duchess and half her Guard through the lands,
showing markings of their boundaries and the mentioned resources. In
return, the duchess, the Lord Sunstone, and the Guards, would venture into
the swamp, find, and kill, the creature lurking there. They would either
return the stolen villagers, or claim whatever remains they could for proper
burial rites.

Husband and wife retreated to the loft to sleep with their children, and the
Captain moved to his bedroll near the door, his snores quickly filling the
otherwise quiet space. Kailyri spent some time in thought as she gazed into
the fire, adding a few small logs with care to rebuild the flame. It was
only when she felt a large, warm hand on her shoulder that she looked up to
find Phadynos smiling down on her with kindness, and fondness.

"If you continue to care for others with so much zeal, then someone is going
to need to look out for you,
" he said gently, removing his hand only to
take up the slender digits smaller than his own. "I will keep the Captain
here as long as I can, but you must promise to return, Lyri."

Squeezing Phadynos' hands, Kailyri nodded solemnly. "I give you my word,
Phade," she vowed. Rising, she leaned forward as if to place a chaste kiss
upon the man's cheek, but instead she found his lips with her own. She
imparted her budding feelings with the gentle touch, then drew away, quickly
and silently escaping the cottage. As her steps carried her unseen through
the shadows and past the guards on duty, she drew upon her own magic,
pulling a hide from her satchel to draw around her shoulders.

Within moments, silvery feathers spread wide, shining bright under the light
of the full moon. The owl flapped her silent wings, gaining height on the
cool valley winds before angling south and gliding toward the marshes.




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 20:17:00 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Eight


The stars shone brightly overhead, outdone only by the full force of the
White Moon. Celestial light caressed the feathers of the owl as she danced
among the pathways of the skies. Sharp, golden eyes examined the world
below as elation swept through her swiftly beating heart. For a time, the
human within struggled to remember her goal as she danced along the air
currents with ease and grace. All too soon, however, the marshes were
below.

Down swooped the owl on silent wing, the bony trees seeming to reach out and
try to grasp the large bird in their bony, barren boughs. With the agility
of a predator, the owl dove between an opening, drawing in her wings to
squeeze past, and then unfurling them once more. She avoided the ground as
her wings tirelessly carried her amongst the trees. The energy of the place
was -wrong-, something in the air sending a chill into her very bones. The
animal let out a screech in protest while the human forced the wings and
tail to angle, turning toward the sense of wrongness.

Soon, too soon, their overwhelming sensation forced the owl to land on a low
branch. Feathers fluffed completely, the creature appeared a ball of white
and silver, rather than a majestic creature. Sharp, vicious talons dug
mercilessly into the bark of the tree beneath her while her head swiveled
this way and that, attempting to keep a wary, golden eye on everything at
once. The owl would go no further.

With another spread of wings, the owl took to the air once more, retreating
a short distance before finding a low, rotted stump in the ground to land
upon. Settling carefully, scanning the surroundings with even greater
wariness, the owl became the woman once again. She had chosen her location
with care, however, and as she reverted to her human shape, shock overtaking
her system, her small form sank within the hollow log, hiding her from
prying eyes.

When she had recovered and the human was once again in utter control,
Kailyri bound her silver hair into a tight knot at her nape, covering her
head with a dark cloth. Her traveling clothes were brown and gray, so she
poked her head over the rim of the stump. Though she saw nothing, the sense
of unwelcome and the stench of death filled the air. She swallowed heavily
and climbed out of her hiding place, moving with paranoid care in every step
from shadow to shadow. Her senses heightened with the adrenaline pouring
through her veins, the marsh revealed itself to be unnaturally quiet. As
sweat began to bead on her pale skin, her instincts screaming to run, she
saw it. The briefest flicker of glamour, a hint that magic had been woven
into the air and the land itself.

Kneeling down, Kailyri touched the earth and whispered a chant, jerking her
hand back quickly as the ground screamed in agony. Blood magic. Old, evil,
and powerful. It permeated the ground with such rotten disregard for life
that it hard burned her fingertips. She swallowed thickly, fighting back
her tears. To create, and keep such a barrier, the sacrifice of life was
necessary. She would not be finding an survivors.

While rage and sorrow awoke within her heart, the shamaness pushed closed
and closer toward the sense of wrong. Suddenly, and without warning, she
passed the barrier. Relief flooded her, but as she tried to take a deep
breath, the most horrendous stench of decay she had ever encountered
assailed her nose - the sickly sweet stench of death a heavy undertone.

"Well, well, little morsel. You found your way to me after all."




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 20:20:39 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Nine


"It was very foolish of you to come alone," hissed the voice, as if
right in her ear. However, several feet in front of her, sitting on a
throne made of twisted trees intermingled with bones both black and still
covered in strips of rotting meat, sat a creature from nightmares. The
sallow skin simply accented the sunken quality to the blood red eyes and
long, yellow fingernails were sharpened into claws. Ragged, half-decayed
robes of black, stained brown with dried blood from his victims, covered the
almost skeletal figure and lanky hair fell down about the shoulders. It was
the icy, hateful glare that held Kailyri in place while the vampire rose
like a fluid shadow, taking a step toward her.

While the stench gagged her, Kailyri reflexively licked her lips and almost
immediately regretted the foul taste of the air. A strange magic pulled at
her mind, the world growing briefly dimmer and suddenly the vampire was
steps closer, closing in on her with a wicked smile. His smile promised
agony, and torture, but even worse, it promised darkness and evil - a taint
upon her pure soul.

Without warning, a growl filled the area, the tones human, and yet note. A
rage built within the young duchess, her draconic blood stirring as she
faced an entity of undead, of pure evil. Some holy wrath, unnamed, before
unknown to her, filled up her body until she felt ready to explode. Without
knowing what drove her, her hand dove into her satchel and this time removed
a different fur, black as night and silky to the touch, several claws
clicking together with the movement.

"Defiler of Life! Creature of the damned! Your end has come, and my the
Light have no mercy upon one such as you,
" she spoke, her voice sounding
strange to her own ears. The vampire hissed and made to fling itself
forward, its nails seeming to grow longer and sharper. It was too late,
however. Kailyri finished her chant as she drew the fur about her figure.

Instead of his claws meeting the throat of the small, delicate woman, they
raked into the arm of a giant, angry bear. The bear bellowed its rage,
roaring so loudly that the branches of the trees clacked together lightly.
A powerful backhand twisted the vampire around, several claw marks in the
undead flesh. Blood dripped from the wound the vampire had delivered, but
the animal, and the human within, were driven by something deeper - an
instinctual frenzy to destroy that which was unclean, and unholy.

A battle ensued, the bear and the vampire exchanging blows, each attempting
to get the other into a finishing position. The vampire attempted to get on
the bear's back with an agile leap, his fangs growing longer as he hissed
and his face contorted. But the human made the bear topple backwards,
crushing the vampire under the massive weight. Rolling away, the vampire
was only stunned for a moment, quickly moving as the bear tried to crush its
skull with another powerful blow. When the vampire tried to run, it found
the bear behind it, the muscled limbs and great heart allowing the hulking
to beast to run almost three times faster than most men.

While the bear started to bleed heavily from many claw wounds, several
patches of fur singed away by unholy fire, the vampire took the worst,
losing a hand to a bite from merciless jaws, and limping as a slow movement
broke a knee and twisted the leg unnaturally. The human within the bear
felt their strength beginning to wane and began to force more cunning and
care into their motions, circling to corner the vampire in an alcove.

The vampire started to cackle, maniac, evil glee in its red eyes, one of
them swollen shut by the claw marks over it.

"Fool. FOOL! You are too late! Darkness is in your heart, I see it. Even
if you kill me, I have served my Master well this night!"




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 20:22:57 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Ten


While the vampire cackled, the bear did not hesitate. It reared up onto
hind legs mean to support and transport its great weight, and with another
bellow of righteous rage, it swung its front claws. The vampire's head was
struck clean from its shoulders, but the beast did not stop there. In a
need to eradicate the evil completely, it crushed the skull, then began to
rip the body limb from limb until it could do the same to the black,
unbeating heart. The work completed, the bear staggered backward, shifting
into the form of the young woman.

Covered in lacerations and burn marks, Kailyri ignored her own pain. That
feeling still swelling within her chest, she quickly called upon her energy
and set fire to the vampire's corpse, ensuring that it would never, ever
rise again. As her blood wept from her injuries and agony set her to
shaking, she returned to where the fight had begun. Tears rolled down her
cheeks as she set fire to the blasphemous throne, then began the careful
task of tearing down the Wards and purging the blood magic. When the last
Ward had been wiped clean with fire and the barrier finally collapsed,
Kailyri sank to the scorched grown and buried her face in her hands, weeping
bodily.

The sun rose only a short time later, and with it came the tentative notes
of bird song. The sweet notes gave the young duchess some hope - enough
that she dried her tears and drew her body into a weak stand. Her eyes were
swollen from her tears, and her entire body felt ready to break apart with
the slightest touch, but the sense of wrongness was already dissipating.
Forcing herself to do what had to be done, Kailyri entered the cave nearby.
As expected, she found gruesome trinkets, reminders of the life that had
been taken and used for the most foul of deeds. No more tears came as she
collected the clothes and jewelry she could find, though she turned and
wretched when she found a child's stuffed doll, the face splattered with
blood.

She placed All the items into her satchel and left the cave, standing just
outside of it. Fresh air from the north blew through the marshes, even this
deep, carrying the stench of death and blood away. Sunlight washed down
upon her face, stinging her eyes and her burned flesh. Despite the signs of
life, and how these simple things uplifted her spirit, the shamaness had no
more strength. She slide down against the rocks and stretched out her legs,
breathing in shallow motions as she stared at the blue sky.

As the world dimmed, threatening to grow dark, Kailyri dreamed the sweetest
thing imaginable. A pair of warm, gentle hands touched her cheeks as a
melodic voice, loving and kind, whispered into her ear, "Well done, my
Child."

Then, sleep claimed the young duchess.




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 20:26:05 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Eleven


Much later that same day, the Guards assigned to protect Duchess Kailyri
Snowdragon had finished mobilizing and were preparing to march south toward
the marshes. Phadynos had kept his word and had convinced the Captain to
wait for as long as he could, but as the sun had finished its rise and begun
its descent, a sense of urgency had come over All of them. The farmer that
had been gifted the horse had even volunteered to return the steed so that
more soldiers could make a swift ride south into the dwelling of the Evil
One. The Captain barked one last order and the well trained guards turned
their horses south, only to pause as a cry went up from one of the
villagers.

"The Duchess! I see the Duchess!"

"Thank the Gods," breathed the Captain as he swung down from the charger in
one smooth movement and and rushed forward. Several people followed, a
mixture of soldiers and concerned villagers, as well as, the Lord Sunstone,
relief apparent in every line of his face.

With the help of a branch taken as a walking stick, Kailyri slowly made her
way into the boundaries of the village. Many withdrew at the sight of her,
covered in muck and debris, blood and angry burn wounds - only some of the
worst ones covered in poorly managed poultices. Her hair was a mess, her
cheeks tear stained, and she limped with the bone-weary aches that infused
her entire figure. Despite All of this, a pair of strong arms swept her up
and cradled her against a chest. She whimpered in protest as her form was
held tightly, several cuts and burns being rubbed. An escort guided her
into Anjya's home, where she was lain to rest on the bed.

The village healer was called in, pushing aside the gawkers and shooing all
the males out of the cottage except the Captain whom took a position glaring
at the front door from the kitchen. Some time later, the healer emerged,
several bloody cloths being deposited in a bin for linens, along with
Kailyri's clothes. She allowed Phadynos to enter, and Gill, then spoke
briefly with them All in a voice that crackled with age.

"She needs ta rest. The wounds will heal. Could scar, depends on her body.
Give her time, and she will be fine."

The Captain and the mentalist both sighed in relief and while one returned
to his post, the other gently touched the healer on the shoulder. His
expression was enough and the old woman nodded, bone beads clacking together
as her hair shifted.

"Aye, lad, but not too long."

The Captain cleared his throat before Phadynos could get far.

"While she rests up, the boys and I are going to finish scouting up north.
I'll leave a couple guards here with you. Take the time to continue getting
as much information from our kind host as you can, aye?"

"Yes, sir, I will."

"Good. We'll leave in the morning. Now, go on," the Captain said, a brief
smile on his face before he left the cottage to go and speak with his mean.

With a smile of his own, the young man entered the sleeping area and took a
seat on a stool left near the bed. He took up Kailyri's hand and kissed the
back of it gently, brushing back a lock of silver hair while the covers rose
and fell with her sleeping breaths.

"You kept your promise."




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 20:29:08 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Part Twelve


Several days passed in the small village, called Makere, and in that
time, the young woman healed rapidly. The burns flaked away, leaving fresh
pink flesh that promised to turn to normal. The deep cuts turned pink
around the edges while thick scabs formed, new skin slowly growing inward.
According to the healer, only the deepest one across her side would leave
any marks at all, and they promised to be faint, silvery lines.

When not spending her time resting, Kailyri opted to speak with Anjya and
the villagers that had volunteered to go scouting. These were the few men
that not only could hunt, but were decent with charcoal and parchment enough
to draw landmarks and make brief notes. Phadynos kept frequent watch,
sometimes taking over the task of recording the conversation highlights and
important notes when the young woman no longer had the strength to write
with a steady hand.

On the fourth day, the Guards returned. The Captain brought his report to
Kailyri to add to the rest of the notes. He seemed tired, but would not
rest until his men were settled and a watch restored to the village. It was
only later in the evening, just before the sun went down, that the small
group found seats at the kitchen table. Mwyll was passed around along with
walnut bread and a local soup made from vegetables and a plant the villagers
called swan potato.

After All had eaten their fill, they listened intently as she told the story
of her encounter with the undead for the first time. Anjya and even stout,
quiet Gill, both turned pale, their hands finding one another and clasping
tightly. The young boys, almost twins, clung to their mother's skirt, their
eyes wide with wonder and fear at the tale. The Captain sat stony faced as
ever, but his deep frown said more than words ever would.

At the end of her story, Kailyri carefully removed her satchel from the
sleeping area and gave it to Anjya.

"I... Know my story is a tragic one, but I offer these items to be returned
to their familes. May the knowledge that the evil that bound their spirits
to the world is now gone bring them some semblance of peace once they have
finished mourning," she said quietly.

White fingers, surprisingly steady, grasped the satchel and brought it to
rest on the table.

"I had hoped... It does not matter. You risked your own, precious life to
put an end to the disappearances, and you have brought us what little
closure there is to be had. I thank you, and will spread the word through
Makere and her sister outposts that when the Lord or Lady arrives, we will
gladly accept them. They have my fealty, and thus, the fealty of my people,
simple and few that we are."

Nodding, Kailyri squeezed Anjya's shoulder, then Gill's, offering them what
little comfort she was able in the silent, compassionate gesture.

"You have done much for us, and for the Empire. I promise you and your
people will not be governed unjustly, or treated with neglect. On that, you
have my word as a child of Taliena, and as a Snowdragon," Kailyri vowed,
her heart reaching out to the people, aching at their losses.

"If only we had come sooner."




Writer: Kailyri

Date Wed Jul 9 20:32:30 2014

To All Althainia Kaithen ( Zypher Taliena )

Subject Recounting: The Province of Draugdale, Final Part


"I know you have to return, but perhaps some day you can come visit us in
the summer. We have a beautiful festival to celebrate the Constellations,
and it is where most of our young couples fall in love," Anjya said to
Kailyri as the two women embraced tightly.

"I would like that very much," the young duchess responded with a smile.
"Though, I do not need to fall in love."

"Ah, I know, but maybe you could help us supervise them."

The village leader laughed again, and then helped to boost her young friend
up into the cart. Now, the only thing the cart carried were the few tent
supplies and a small supply of food for the return journey. All of the
other gifts had been left behind for the villagers to divide amongst those
that inhabited Makere All year long and those that went to live in the
outposts. With the sun already cresting the horizon and spreading light
through a perfectly clear sky, the return home promised to be a quick one.

All around her, the villagers were saying goodbye to the friends they had
made amongst the soldiers, but one young man - very familiar to the duchess
- stood out.

"Lieutenant Wilson! What are you doing?" she asked in surprise.

"Oh, I've decided to stay behind ma'am. Until that Lord or Lady comes
along, I'm going to protect this place, and start teaching others how to
make swords and use them. Maybe this sweet gal will even have me if I prove
to her I'm not All silliness and dreams,
" he tacked on to the end, a pretty
young thing next to him blushing and smiling. It was clear the two were
already heading toward a blissful life together.

"Then I wish you long life, Lieutenant, filled with much love and many
blessings. May the Gods never forget to smile fondly upon you.
"

By this time, the remaining soldiers had mounted up, or taken their place in
formation. Phadynos had hopped lightly onto the seat of the cart, as well,
his hands taking the reigns with confidence. Amidst shouts of joyful
well-wishes, and sorrowful goodbyes, the twenty-one person group made its
way out of the village and turned themselves east and north.

Beneath a sky bathed in warm sunlight and as bright a blue as any had ever
seen, the little convoy traveled their way home. Several of the men spoke
amongst themselves in fair cheer, the foot soldiers munching on treats, or
admiring small gifts they had been given. The young woman was glad to see
that All of them had healed up, and that the only one they were missing was
because of happy reasons, not sad ones. Scooting in closer against
Phadynos, Kailyri linked her arm around his and rested her head against the
strong bicep. She contently looked to the sky, smiling as several birds
flew overhead.

"And so we leave the Valley of Draug, hopefully a better place, and with
many new memories and feelings. I hope the journey will remain with us
always,
" she spoke, her words soft. A large hand came to rest over her own
and she looked up to see Phadynos smiling down at her.

"I told you All would be well, and it has turned out to be so. We will see
them again, and in the mean time, memories of our friends will fill our
hearts.
"

Smiling in return, Kailyri nodded.

"Yes, you are right."




Writer: Deccan

Date Thu Jul 10 05:04:20 2014




Writer: Deccan

Date Thu Jul 10 05:05:47 2014




Writer: Donelan

Date Thu Jul 10 17:34:53 2014

To New_Thalos Marauders ( Imm rp All )

Subject Temples of Raije - A kenders path to Soldiering (2)


Donelan steps from vibrant green to muddy death. All around him bodies
lie in differant poses of death. Some skewered by poleaxes, others simply
hacked to bits. All his joy simply leaves him. 'Courage' he whispers as he
carefully makes his way to the alter of the Temple of Raije. Trying to keep
his head down as he picks his way yet it is impossible to not see the
carnage around him. After what seems an eternity, and nearly losing his
kibbees, he reaches the alter. Looking down he sees the three swords
holding the altar upright. Three blades signifying the three walks of life.
Light. Darkness. And the balance. Looking up at the statue it dawns on
him. This is what the Highlord Andry wanted him to see. Not how he could
fight, or if he would keep fighting even after the arbiter said he couldn't
join the army. She wanted him to see the other side of Raije's Glory. What
war meant. War meant death, loss, and destruction. But did it?

Looking up at the statue of Raije he recites the precepts. 'Courage, to
face the horrors on one side and see the victory on the other. Loyalty, to
stay the course, to see something done that you started. Victory, to never
stop striving to be better than you are.
'Watch and keep me in the battles
to come, may those I vanquish see your Glory.
Turning around he walks out
of the temple, his gaze always looking ahead of him and never at the dead
and broken bodies littering the ground around him.




Writer: Kailyri

Date Fri Jul 11 10:39:29 2014




Writer: Kailyri

Date Fri Jul 11 10:40:49 2014




Writer: Ashlen

Date Sat Jul 12 18:12:46 2014




Writer: Elrei

Date Sat Jul 12 20:55:26 2014

To All Taliena Imm RP

Subject Trusting in the Path



Have you meditated long and come to a better peace with yourself?

"I am still confused, but I can live with confusion. The pain is no
longer sharp.
"

You needed some time away from All that was causing you so much pain. It
was tearing you apart.

It was true enough, though the source of his pain wasn't Althainia. "My
greatest concern was in misinterpreting Your Will.
"

My will? My will is for you to be happy. My will is for you to spread my
word. You cannot spread the word of love to others if you are unhappy.

Yet had She not told him to join the Gray Church, to give up politics and
diplomatic stations, or else he was not first and foremost devoted to Her
and doing Her work in the world? Had She not told him to continue his work,
and then a week later chided the actions he had taken?

"Then, forgive me. It felt as though I was being guided down a certain
path, a certain vision, and I could not see it.
"

The past, is the past, the future has yet to be written. I want my child to
be happy.

Yet he had still been guided here. "What of the Gray? Is my path to
remain outside of the politics and diplomacy still?
"

Guide those that come to you. Let some more time distance you from what
caused so much trouble. Continue your friendships. Make new ones with
those you come in contact with.

More time. But it was not Althainia which had caused his trouble, the
worry and self-doubt and torment that he had endured. Kahlyn and Benthic
could never have inflicted the sort of pain that would shatter Elrei's
world.

Eighteen days until his trial month was over, and Tief would want an
answer on whether he would be staying in the Gray permanently.

"As You Will, my Lady."




Writer: Babetta

Date Sat Jul 12 21:40:49 2014

To All Abaddon ( Fatale imm ) Jonathen Deccan Orlen Casiella

Subject Logistics of Murder - Keeping it in the Family (Part I)



Babetta felt as though she were ice that had somehow caught fire from the
inside out. Her intestines were razor blades, and her heart beat out an
intense rhythm as the white-hot flow of adrenaline coursed its way through
her young body like a viper's poison.

None of this showed on her face however, as she strode out of the office of
Abaddon's Inquisitor, Deccan. To any passerby on the street, she appeared a
highly bored and slightly sullen teenager with outlandish hair, chewing
bubble gum (to hide the tension that would otherwise be evident in her jaw)
and walking with a slow, unenthusiastic gait.

She had joined Deccan in the library and there discussed with him her...
Options. If they could be called that. Fatale's "laws" were a strange
thing indeed, but however strongly one might feel, the law was the law.
Whatever satisfaction might be gleaned from breaking it would be quickly
swallowed in a sea of agonizing punishment were the God of Murder and Death
to become angry...

Babetta honestly could not decide what troubled her more. The act itself,
the nature of the cover-up, or her fathers pathetic weakness following the
deed. Behind the mask of her apparent apathey, wheels had been set in
motion. Deccan had chosen to be honest with her about what had happened - a
fact she would not be soon to forget. This left her in a sad quandry
though, and she knew that she needed time to think. Emotional decisions
were usually bad decisions, and Babetta was indeed overcome with emotion.

Retreating far away from Abaddon to a distant and forgotten temple of
Fatale, the young womans mind turned over the days revelations over and over
again. Like a toxin without treatment, the desire to murder regardless of
the rules festered inside her, refusing her even a moments peace.

She tossed reagents into the cauldron she had conjured without any thought
to possible spell formulas. Any effort to concentrate on such a thing would
have been futile in the extreme, and the act of brewing was more to clear
her thoughts then to produce a tangile result. Again and again, a useless
potion. She stired the liquid inside the pot, imagining she could see the
events as they played out in the water.

Today, she had learned, All at once, that her mother Casiella Darksong, was
dead. Murdered by her father, Jonathen Darksong, for having an affair. And
she knew with whom. She had also learned, in the same breath, that her aunt
Avienda Darksong was likewise dead for reasons too clearly fabricated to
believe, and that her older sister Syrieni Darksong was a traitor marked for
death.

Following the murder of her mother, which had apparently happened with the
tacit approval of Count Orlen, for she had been the cities Inquisitor at the
time, Jonathen had "made amens" with his wife's lover and fled the city,
again with permission, to go "fix himself". Apparently, per Deccan, the
"shock had been too much". Babetta snorted in discust.

Shock? And what shock was she feeling now? But did she run away to some
comune of Kadiya, or touchy-feely Taliena support group, or whatever the
Hells he was doing, to "fix herself"? Clearly, the act had been born of
weakness, compounded by further weakness of obvious regret.

"Death Requires Strength - Weakness must be Culled." Were these not core
tenants of Fatale?

Another useless potion. And another. Babetta continued to stir, continued
to ponder. Yet, what could she do? Who did she hate? Did she hate the
Count? No, she decided. Oh, she was none too pleased with Orlen. He had
allowed this weakness to happen. He had excused it. Turned a blind eye.
But for his role? Babetta felt only mild irritation. For the most part,
she still liked the man. But her father... For him there was a black
reservoir of emotion.

What to do? What to do? And then, quite suddenly, she realized that potion
she had just brewed a moment again that she now held in her hand contained
an answer...

(continued in part II)




Writer: Babetta

Date Sat Jul 12 22:19:48 2014

To All Abaddon ( Fatale imm ) Jonathen Deccan Orlen Casiella Colette

Subject Logistics of Murder - Keeping it in the Family (Part II)



The Althainian woman moved through the moonlit street in a state of
blissful ignorance. The sun had set only an hour prior, and the pretty
middle aged red head hummed a soft tune to herself, completly unaware of the
shadow that was following her every step.

Babetta studied the woman carefully, feeling the cold press of urgency.
Shadowform gourds were hard to make, and the spell never lasted long.
Although outside the periphery of the guarded imperial streets, the young
witch was still in as much danger here as her mark was. Around any corner
might walk a patrol, or even a good samaritain. Despite being a follower of
Fatale, Babetta was still quite new at this. She had killed before, but
never in a situation where the odds were not stacked completly in her favor.
This was different. One mistake here, and she'd be rotting in a cell
awaiting execution at the Emperor's pleasure.

She had chosen to take the fortuitous appearance of her target as a sign
from Fatale that He was smiling upon her enterprise. Of course, it could as
easily have been dumb luck, but that hardly mattered now. Her attuned
senses told her she had only a half an hour before her concealment spell
lapsed, and if she missed this golden oppertunity another might never come.
Sweat poured down the sides of her face, and she worked to keep her
breathing even. It wasn't enough to simply kill her. It had to be done
right
.

As the woman rounded a corner and was nearly at her own doorstep, Babetta
knew it was now or never. Conditions were not ideal. She had seen a guard
on duty two blocks back who might well hear a scream, but if she went inside
her house she might lock the door...

Stealing up from behind, Babetta wrapped one shadowy hand around the targets
head and covered her mouth. Her other hand made a lightning-quick jab with
a poisoned needle, designed specifically to leave no trace once removed.
Babetta felt a burst of adrenaline and tried to compensate without any
proper training, failed, and made a loud grunting noise as her grip on the
red head went slack seemingly contrary to All logic.

It didn't matter. She was dead before she hit the ground, without a mark.
Exactly what Babetta had wanted. The untrained witch-assassin looked around
frantically. In her mind she had imagined her grunt as possessing the
volume of a trumpet. Surely someone must have heard... But the street on
either side of her remained dark and empty. Silent as a grave.

Looking down, trembling, she studied the woman one last time, even though it
was foolish to linger. The resemblence to her mother Casiella was uncanny.
Oh, she'd never pass for her of course, but after she had been rotting in
the ground for a day or two... Hefting the corpse over her shoulder, much
as she imagined Jonathan had done with her mother, she murmered a prayer to
Fatale and recalled back to Abaddon.

(continued in part III)




Writer: Babetta

Date Sat Jul 12 23:02:21 2014

To All Abaddon ( Fatale imm ) Jonathen Deccan Orlen Casiella Colette

Subject Logistics of Murder - Keeping it in the Family (Part III)



The locate remains spell she had brewed in the Chambers of Shadows had
led her... Here. Babetta looked around with an expression of
uncharacteristic sadness. A lonely, forsaken graveyard and an apparently
unmarked grave.

The white and red moons had long since set. Illuminated brightly by the
empty light of Drakkara's black moon, a light only those of darkness could
see, the graveyard scene around her made for an oddly inversed tableau.

Still trembling from the murder of less than an hour ago, Babetta dropped
the corpse of the red headed woman she had - with difficulty - carried to
this dismal spot. She removed the spade from her pack, pausing to rest for
a few moments before starting her grim work on the freshly turned earth of
the grave. There was no time to lose.

She had anticipated that the excavation to be an arduous ordeal taking hours
but to her surprise, found the freshly made grave easy to dig up. It was
not long before she was face to face with her mother once again, gazing down
into the cold lifeless face that had once brought her such joy. Babetta
cringed, then caught herself, as if Fatale Himself might be watching.
Judging. She had a goal here, and too much time had already been lost.

Fighting down a surge of bile in her throat and a swimming in her stomach
that threatned to give way to vomit, Babetta chocked down a breath of air
before pulling the corpse clear of the grave soil to regard it with an empty
light.

A sudden sense of relief washed over her. Pale, yes. Dirty, yes. But
intact. No rot had yet set in. This is what she imagined Casiella would
look like if she were a vampire, locked in the grip of deathly immortality.
Except, of course, in a state of sleep...

Her hand trempled and she had to stop herself. Spilling the groud would
mean having to brew another one, and who knew how long that might take?
Taking several deep breaths to steady herself and calm her breathing,
Babetta poured the gourd with the necromantic embalm spell down her dead
mothers throat and watched with a surge of joy as the magic begin to do its
work. The body would be preserved, in this state, forever. She had not
been too late.

Sighing, she sank down onto her haunches next to the corpse and leaned back
in the moon light, allowing the night breeze to waft sepulchral air from the
grave around her. A surge of relief overcame her leaving her weak and
faint, not simply because she had preserved the body, but because it had no
obvious mark upon it. Babetta had feared that her father had been stupid
and made a mess of the kill, and that would mean - among other things - that
Babetta would have to inflict the same damage upon the Althainian womans
corpse to ensure the facade would be seamless. She was a murderess, yes,
but she had not been looking forward to having to mutiliate a corpse.

Standing, the young witch began to drag the Althainian into the grave when a
glint in the moonlight caught her eye. Bending down, she pulled a broken
harp free of where it half protruded in the soil. The strings had been cut.



Within her came once again that deep reservoir of blackness. The sentiment
behind the broken Harp nearly made her gag on a mixture of tears and bile.
She gave Jonathen credit, as it was due, for making it a clean kill... But
this was too much. She could not take the Harp. If the grave was checked,
its absence would be noted. Instead, she plucked one of the many broken
strings and placed it into a pocket, visualizing as she did so using it as a
garrote to strangle her father with. She replaced the Harp itself and then
pulled the corpse over it. If her sister Colette told Jonathen of her
interest in Necromancy, as Babetta suspected she might, it was entirely
possible Jonathen would check the grave. She knew this Althainian woman,
once rot had set in, would prove a convincing enough simulacrum. Reburying
the corpse, she lifted the body of her mother in her arms, and left the
graveyard on the wings of magic.





Writer: Jonathen

Date Sun Jul 13 02:19:51 2014




Writer: Babetta

Date Sun Jul 13 06:38:31 2014

To All Abaddon ( Fatale imm ) Jonathen Deccan Orlen Casiella

Subject Logistics of Murder - Hiding the Body



The secret chamber was almost cozy, Babetta reflected to herself, as she
gazed around at her surroundings. Permanent stone torches burned eternally
within recessed wall sconces, shedding a warm and constant illumination upon
the small stone crypt, located far beneath and within the mountains of
Shokono. Well beyond the range of conventional gating magic, Babetta had
taken the additional step of placing wards to prevent both scrying and
location of the rooms contents. She couldn't know for certain if these
would function as desired of course, but the chances that her father would
think to dig up her mothers corpse, inspect it closely enough to notice any
discrepancy in the rotting substitute she had chosen, then think to contact
a necromancer to track the body seemed a highly unlikely chain of events to
say the least.

Now, Babetta stood gazing at the open stone sarcophagus that contained the
magically preserved body of Casiella Darksong. There she lay, carefully
cleaned to remove any trace of her time within the earth, attired in a
beautiful, revealing red gown that would have been both seductive and
flattering on her in life. Babetta had even taken the time to comb out her
hair and place a pair of stylish boots on the feet of the body, such as her
mother might have favored. Except for the extreme paleness of death, to all
outward appearances, Casiella appeared to be peacefully sleeping, her hands
resting together on her lap.

The chamber Babetta had chosen was secret and well hidden. No one would
ever stumble upon it by mistake, and no one could possibly gate in given the
restrictions on such magic on Shokono. Even if someone knew exactly where
to look, they would have an extremely hard time physically reaching the
location so deep in the heart of the mountains without a witches full array
of magical tricks. Just be sure though, Babetta had taken the final
precaution of setting up magical alarms with her gourds. Her mothers body
was as secure as it was within Babetta's power to make it.

Now what? The young woman stood, looking down at her mothers body within
its resting place. She considered her options. The first possibility that
came to her mind was seeking out a vampire capable of raising Casiella as
one of the undead. Babetta wasn't sure if this would actually be possible
or not... She didn't know how long the body had already lain in its deathly
torpor before she found it, and while it appeared to be in prime condition,
Babetta remained ignorant of any possible metaphysical limitations incumbent
upon such a process. Then of course, there was the issue of the demon. It
wouldn't really BE her mother... Or so the books in the library had led her
to believe. Of course, the vast majority of vampires she knew of seemed no
different after their transformation, but then again, demons were notorious
for being deceptive.

Putting aside questions of Kindred mechanics, Babetta also had Fatale to
think about. How would the God of Death and Murder view an attempt by
Babetta to resurrect her slain mother? Although she worshiped Him, the
young witch understood Fatale the least of All the dark Gods. His
priesthood often preached conflicting messages and the books that His voice,
Sereb Trucido, had written were cryptic in the extreme. Philosophical
arguments using Fatalite doctrine could be made either way. One set would
support Babetta's action, the other condemn it as weakness. Guessing how
Fatale Himself would regard such an act was impossible for Babetta, and
there was no one whose opinion on the matter she could trust.

Sighing, her thoughts turned from Casiella to Jonathen. It really wasn't
important how her father met his end, she realized. In fact, Babetta
actually preferred to remain totally anonymous, and would not even have
blinked if he died in a legitimate accident before she could strike. All
that mattered was that he not live. She filed away the idea of raising
Casiella should a chance come up, and began to think.




Writer: Jonathen

Date Sun Jul 13 07:15:11 2014




Writer: Rhaxx

Date Sun Jul 13 21:04:24 2014

To Conclave All Travanian Dxutim Ashlen Tyrinx

Subject Rhaxx Rage, Ebony Student



Rhaxx was not large for an ogre. Nor was he better looking than most of
his kind.

But what differentiated him from most of his kin were moments of clairity.
Almost as if some divine being injected their perspective briefly. Or maybe
Rhaxx was just lucky.

There were invitations to join his kin within Darkonin. It would be a good
life, filled with war, women, and wealth. But that fortuitous instinct,
however fleeting, pulled Rhaxx elsewhere.





Writer: Cheiron

Date Wed Jul 16 19:16:56 2014




Writer: Thaydius

Date Thu Jul 17 00:39:48 2014




Writer: Thaydius

Date Thu Jul 17 00:40:08 2014




Writer: Thaydius

Date Thu Jul 17 00:40:13 2014




Writer: Kermine

Date Thu Jul 17 16:22:41 2014

To All ( Imm rp Hania )

Subject Leaving the Pridelands



Standing on the balcony of the castle, Kermine surveys the city of
Althainia. Her home since leaving the frigid plains of Icewall. Lirrram
had returned to her. The place that was alone, hardening, becoming aloof
was filled again with warmth and love. He says they will make a life in
Arkane. Althainia wasn't ever really his home. He had found her there but
he was a drifter before joining the pride. Will they remain in Hania or
will he insist on a new pride? Papa would be furious if she left Hania too.
She will have to disuade her mate from do that. He is the head of her
house, but she is the neck. And where the neck goes, the head will follow.


Most of the time.

Still, she wonders what her future will bring. A family? A new pride? So
many things uncertain but one thing. She is happy and will do whatever it
takes to keep her mate. Anything.




Writer: Tyrinx

Date Thu Jul 17 18:34:04 2014




Writer: Phibbledorf

Date Fri Jul 18 01:09:08 2014




Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Fri Jul 18 15:00:46 2014

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

Subject Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Eight)


Dragon and gnome passed the next several moments in satisfied silence, as
the massive tower rapidly shrank from view behind them. Once they had
cleared the outer fence of Mart-Town, Ol' Brassy began a lazy descent,
banking slightly to the left. Reaching the altitude he desired, about the
mid-point of the tower, the huge brass dragon levelled off, continuing a
counter-clockwise path around the town. The euphoria of first flight
wearing off, it was Thimtax that spoke first.

"Well, I won't lie. I don't think I've ever had that much fun in my entire
life. Did you see the looks on their faces? I can't wait to see those two
back on solid ground!"


Ol' Brassy grunted almost inaudibly, offering nothing more. The pair
continued their counter-clockwise path in silence a few seconds more, before
the hardhat wearing gnome spoke again.

"All right then, I suppose we should get down to the matter at hand,
shouldn't we? Now, had I known prior, I would have packed some surveying
tools for the ride. Luckily, I -do- have a small transit tool and a scope
with me. If you can hold steady, I can get a perpendicular reading All the
way around the tower. Once we've got that squared away, excuse the pun,
perhaps we can shrink the circle down a bunch. That way, I can get a good
look at the facade. That way, I can make sure the grout is holding firm,
and not cracking. It'll also let me get a good look at the blocks
themselves. Check them for any possible cracks or fissures. Then if
possible, I'd like to get right above it again so I can get an idea of ho-"


The large brass dragon interrupted Thimtax with an audible sigh, then spoke.
"There will be no need for that. You and I both know full well there isss
absssolutely nothing wrong with your tower. Your calculationsss and
mathemtaticsss clearly ssshow that, and ssso do mine. Why don't you jussst
sssit back and enjoy the ride?"


Time and time again this morning, the hardhat wearing gnome was dumbstruck
by the words of Ol' Brassy, and Furui, his human form. But, as they say,
successive shocks have a decreasing effect. Thimtax quietly pondered what
had transpired in the past sixty minutes, and the pair continued their lazy
circle around the tower in silence for the next several moments.




Writer: Ryael

Date Sat Jul 19 11:27:14 2014




Writer: Rosa

Date Sun Jul 20 01:29:35 2014




Writer: Rosa

Date Sun Jul 20 01:30:26 2014




Writer: Troy

Date Sun Jul 20 02:21:17 2014




Writer: Colette

Date Sun Jul 20 08:14:11 2014




Writer: Rosa

Date Sun Jul 20 15:56:43 2014




Writer: Rosa

Date Sun Jul 20 15:58:18 2014




Writer: Phibbledorf

Date Sun Jul 20 16:07:15 2014




Writer: Phibbledorf

Date Sun Jul 20 16:59:50 2014




Writer: Phibbledorf

Date Sun Jul 20 17:55:11 2014




Writer: Troy

Date Sun Jul 20 18:18:37 2014




Writer: Drew

Date Sun Jul 20 19:36:58 2014




Writer: Rosa

Date Mon Jul 21 00:57:38 2014




Writer: Rosa

Date Mon Jul 21 00:58:51 2014




Writer: Ryael

Date Tue Jul 22 04:40:45 2014




Writer: Calvissus

Date Tue Jul 22 21:55:40 2014

To Abaddon All ( Storyline Roleplay Immortal Zypher )

Subject |Bath of Dragon's Blood|


Calvissus leaned forward on his cane, looking out over the deck as the
crew raised the corpse from the water. Thirty feet in length, the scaled
beast was pulled on board the deck of the Deliverance with great effort and
restraint. It's corpse hanging, lifeless from the rafters.

Calvissus snarled as he slowly plodded down from the hooded wheel house down
across the open deck. His cane tapping hard into the polished wood with
each ragged step taken. Upon reaching the dangling corpse, he nodded to the
Seashade. The large, burly man stepped forward, battle-axe in hand as he
lined up the mark and then swung. A large thud eminating through the area
as the axe buried itself in the dragon's jugular. As the Seashade pulled
his axe backwards, blood began to spurt out of the wound, dripping down its
Sapphire scales filling massive tubs with its crimson fluid.

With each tub filled brought a small crew of sailors over to remove it,
replacing it with another, until finally the beast bled its last drop. Four
tubs filled to the brim with blood, stacked neatly against the downwards
stairs.

"Take 'em t' mae office, n' fill up th' tub. Leave th' res' there. '




Writer: Kaelowyth

Date Tue Jul 22 23:53:17 2014

To All ( Roleplay )

Subject Time brings about All things



Like an incessant and petulant child, Kaelowyth's mind forced his
slumbering form to stir despite its obstinate desire to remain asleep.
These days it took more and more effort for him to rise, greeted by the grey
and bleak skies and waters of his keep. Once a bustling hub of activity,
where either drills or the sound of various housekeeping would awaken him
promptly each morning, Sylvestris was now empty and quiet, a reflection of
its owner.

His words returned to him, "I am the land." How ironic it seemed now that
Gyathoth had once again withered. He did not need to look out the great
windows to see the dead and decaying trees or the fetid swamps and valleys
which replaced the once verdant landscape. It was silent now, save for the
distant crashing of the waves against the cliffs below - a steady thundering
which almost seemed to echo his own heart's beat. The thought brought a
tiny smirk to the elf's lips as he steadily rose amidst the furs and
cushions which formed his bed.

It had been months since he last visited the capitol. Even longer since he
bothered to read the missives or keep up with the courtly goings-on. On
some level, he knew that nothing had changed and thus did not preoccupy
himself with it for too long. Such thoughts served only to speed him back
to his bed with a foul taste lingering in his mouth. No, today he awoke for
a reason. Today he awoke to properly survey his keep. Gliding like a
spectre or ghost of legend, he exited his chambers into the barren halls of
Sylvestris Hold.

A fine layer of dust covered everything - ample proof that his subjects had
done as they were told and vacated the grounds. For as much respect as they
had for him, they feared what he had become. Gone was the hopeful and
boisterous nature, replaced by a cold and almost ancient malice. They saw
the change in the land even as they saw the change in him. Good - less
people to meddle in his affairs. As he exited the keep proper, he saw the
interior of the keep remained much as he had left it. The spells of order
and growth having done their job to keep even the faintest of cracks away.
A perfect and untouchable tomb, for a perfect and untouchable creature.

As before, that thought brought forth an expression of mirth upon the Elf's
lips even as he floated upwards to survey the whole of his dominion. Dozens
of solid steel chests appeared to be stacked at the portcullis - tithes and
taxes from his citizenry no doubt. Alongside it another pile of waxed
scrolls and missives which would likely simply fuel the fires he used to
heat his tea. It seemed the world was exactly as he wanted it - far, far
away. There was no sign of an invasion or attempt to wrest his small haven
from him, and that was satisfying enough.

Settling down atop the massive pine which dominated the courtyard, he
noticed the leaves had turned a coppery color and seemed flecked with red,
as if blood had spattered upon them. Chuckling softly to himself, the elf
simply gazed out from atop his perch and nodded to himself. A hand went to
his throat, removing the clasp fashioned in the previous haute couture of
Verminasia to denote his rank and accolades. Hanging it from those withered
branches, another soft peal of laughter escaped him.

"Peace and quiet at last."




Writer: Ryael

Date Wed Jul 23 03:56:41 2014




Writer: Troy

Date Wed Jul 23 14:03:07 2014




Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Wed Jul 23 23:00:09 2014

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

Subject Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Nine)


"So... Why are we doing this?" The hardhat wearing gnome finally
asked; the only sound, save for the winds of flight, as the duo coasted
around the tower on unseen currents.

Ol' Brassy craned his massive head around to face the inquiring little
gnome, and offered a nebulous reply.

"Thossse who create, ought to be able to fully regard their work."

Thimtax pondered the dragon's answer thoughtfully, then pressed forward with
his question.

"Well, I suppose. But... Why are -you- doing this?"

Without expression, Ol' Brassy slowly returned his gaze forward. With a
mighty flap of his wings, the pair began to ascend rapidly, while
maintaining their counter clockwise course around Mart-Town and the tower.
He answered the hardhat wearing gnome as the town shrunk from view beneath
them.

"Perhaps there are many softlings in this world that strive for absolute
perfection. However, the overwhelming majority of them seek it for reasons
less than virtuous. They seek perfection in their craft, for reasons of
monetary gain, and personal prestige. They seek perfection in their
possessions, for they desire an advantage over others."


"And then, there is you, who cares neither for wealth nor acclaim. You've
taken no extra salary from the Ixi'kweez for building this tower. And your
Chairman and co-workers. They know next to nothing about the logistics of
building something of this magnitude. Perfection is lost on them."


"And yet, there you are. Day in and day out. Checking and rechecking the
day's work, long after the others have gone home for the evening. By the
gods, you asked me to strike your work full force, for no other reason, than
to correct an insignificant deviation in perpendicularity, which noone
including myself had even noticed!"


"No, my friend. You've only one reason to go to the lengths that you have.
You strive for perfection, simply because you -can- achieve such, and
therefore, you -should-. And that, is the most noblest reason of them all."


The duo majestically broke the plane of the roof of the tower, and continued
soaring upward. The huge brass dragon levelled off some distance above the
tower, and pulled up. The two hovered there, well over a thousand feet off
the ground, with the tower below and before them. Ol' Brassy spoke once
again.

"So look upon your masterpiece, Thimtax! Gaze upon what you have created,
and take pride in it! Know that without you, this entire town would never
have been. Your efforts affect this world more than you will ever know.
But, your work is not finished yet. Let this aid in your motivation. And
know that I will be at your disposal should you need anything."





Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Thu Jul 24 01:07:00 2014

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

Subject Raising The Tower "Flight for Work, Flight for Play" (Part Ten)


And Thimtax did look upon his creation. It was exactly as he had planned
it, down to the last detail. Not really one to pat himself on the back, he
was however, willing to concede that All thus far had gone very well, and
the results had so far lived up to his expectations. He was pleased.

"He hasss to asssk." Ol' Brassy spoke once again, the only party to do so
in some time. "The four large sssteel thingsss on the ground in the
courtyard, with their endsss bent down. What are thossse for?"


The hardhat wearing gnome strained his eyes downward to no avail. His
vision was not nearly as sharp as the dragon's. "I can't see what you're
seeing, but I'm pretty sure I know what you're looking at. Those, are for
you."


"For me?" Ol 'Brassy asked in surprise.

"Sure are. You see, originally, this tower was originally going to have a
marble dome for a roof. But, once I realized you may want to use the tower
as an observation post, I had to change it around a bit. Now, the roof will
be flat. Those four steel perches will be mounted there, and secured to the
eight main support pillars for the tower itself. That way, you have several
comfortable options when you're up there, and I won't have to worry about
your massive claws scratching up the roof."


Ol' Brassy turned around to look at Thimtax, a look of concern on his face.
"Hrm? You changed the plan?"

The little gnome shrugged his shoulders. "I had to. Perfection must
include both form and function. To not change the roof, would've been
imprudent."


The brass dragon grunted quiety and returned his gaze to the tower. He
waited several moments before he spoke again.

"You do realize, what may happen to you, should you complete your Lifequest,
yes?"


Thimtax wasn't especially surprised that Ol' Brassy was aware of the ancient
legend of the Lifequest, but he was not expecting him to bring it up. The
legend was that every gnome had an innate task, a life's work, that they
were to accomplish. The nature of their Lifequest is never revealed to the
individual, save through a lifetime of experiences, and in most cases, some
sort of epiphany. The vast majority of gnomes live and die without so much
as even learning of their Lifequest, and noone alive could recall a time
when one had actually completed it. But it was said that when a gnome
completes his or her Lifequest to perfection, Cliath will bring that person
home to Him, and they would create together for eternity.

"Yes, I'm aware." Thimtax finally answered quietly, not a bit of anxiety
in his voice.

The two continued their holding pattern above the tower in silence, as the
sun reached its zenith.




Writer: Drew

Date Thu Jul 24 06:15:15 2014




Writer: Colette

Date Thu Jul 24 08:57:14 2014




Writer: Tarpu

Date Thu Jul 24 22:57:06 2014

To Althainia Dolund'ir Kaithen All ( imm rp )

Subject The Coming of the Lord of the Gullies



Dolundir was one of those kingdoms in the world with no roads leading to
it. Tarpu had to get in through the sewers, though there were other ways
into the city through the Midennir swamp. Tarpu was simply no stranger to
the sewers of Althainia being a gully dwarf. His usual fear was overridden
with giddy excitement. Emperor Kaithen had given him a job and he was going
to do it. The Emperor wanted the rats and skunks of Dolundir slain and who
better than Tarpu Ratslayer for such a task? It didnt cross the gully
dwarfs mind that he might be the only Althainian that really didnt mind the
stench of the dung ridden goblin city.

As soon as Tarpu got there, he realized that this was going to be a long
job. Fortunately Kaithen had told Tarpu he was in charge of efforts in
Dolundir and could have All the help he wanted. So, standing in Monolith
Square, Tarpu waved his hands and whistled loudly to get the attention of
all the goblins.

"Me Tarpu Ratslayer!" The gully dwarf loudly introduced himself, "Emperor
send me here to be in charge! Wants All rats dead! Wants All black kitties
with white stripes dead! Listen to me! Tarpu is Lord of Dolundir now!"


Tarpu triumphantly raised his arms at his proclamation, a cheesy grin
filling his features. The goblins didnt seem to be impressed. In fact they
seemed not to understand the gully dwarfs grandiose explanations, or just
didnt seem to care. The slow traffic of pilgrims to the Monolith continued
uninterrupted, the goblins came and went as normal and one goblin made a
show of using the latrine, meaning the street.

Tarpu scratched the back of his head, looking disappointed. He was hoping
for cheers and celebrating at their new liege lord. Maybe if they saw him
killing the rats and skunks theyd get the idea. Hours spent hunting rats,
trapping skunk and frantically yelling and gesturing at indifferent goblins
went by and Tarpu was tired. Spotting the empty palace in the northern part
of the city, Tarpu gave another grin.

The new Lord of Dolundir would be living there now.




Writer: Drew

Date Fri Jul 25 08:25:47 2014




Writer: Ryael

Date Fri Jul 25 08:55:41 2014




Writer: Cheiron

Date Fri Jul 25 12:48:14 2014




Writer: Cheiron

Date Fri Jul 25 12:53:55 2014




Writer: Colette

Date Sat Jul 26 00:11:05 2014




Writer: Ryael

Date Sat Jul 26 01:04:18 2014




Writer: Ryael

Date Sat Jul 26 03:30:20 2014




Writer: Ryael

Date Sat Jul 26 04:39:48 2014




Writer: Drew

Date Sat Jul 26 15:19:49 2014




Writer: Deccan

Date Sun Jul 27 04:07:32 2014




Writer: Andreyna

Date Mon Jul 28 10:14:20 2014




Writer: Ryael

Date Mon Jul 28 22:29:48 2014




Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Tue Jul 29 00:20:52 2014

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

Subject Raising The Tower "Unexpected Guests" (Part One)


The Chairman absent-mindedly opened and closed one of the myriad of empty
filing cabinets that populated the eighth floor of the tower. This, was the
new home of the Accounts Receivable Department. Ixi marvelled at the near
limitless potential for document and record storage this floor offered. A
simple layout, the entire floor consisted of a cluster of desks and chairs
around the center. Two dozen aisles of uniform silver filing cabinets
radiated from the center outward, like spokes on a wheel. Each aisle ended
short of the tower walls, creating an outer pathway.

The tower was empty and silent, for Thimtax gave everyone the day off. The
95th floor had been completed the day prior, and the Project Manager wanted
his workers well rested, before they made the final push to complete
construction. Ixi'kweez visited the tower nearly daily, his excitement
growing as what was once just a hole in the ground, finally began to
resemble the finished product that he and Thimtax had envisioned. It would
not be more than a couple weeks, before the tower would be occupied and open
for business.

"Squeezums!"

Startled, the Chairman turned around briskly, though there was no question
as to who would have said such a thing. The red panda finished her trek up
the stairwell, and sat up on her haunches, clapping happily.

"Hello, girl! Now how in the world did you manage to find me up here?"
Ixi'kweez knelt down where he stood. The panda made her way over the
Chairman gingerly. As she did so, another voice could be heard, from the
floor below.

"Squeeeeezuuuuums!" The little girl's voice echoed upward from the
stairwell, getting louder as time went on. "Squeezums, no! We're not
asposed to go into Mistaw Ixi'kweez's tower!"


Recognizing the girl's voice instantly, Ixi called out. "Momiji? Is that
you? It's alright, dear! I have Squeezums right here with me! Come on
up!"


The little raven haired girl peeked her head up shyly from the stairwell, a
guilty look on her face. She spotted Ixi and Squeezums not far away,
playing gently. Momiji slowly made her way over to the two.

"I'm sorry, Mistaw Ixi'kweez. We were playing in the courtyard, and
Squeezums ran into the tower."


"It's okay, Momiji. She must have picked up my scent in the courtyard, and
decided to pay me a visit."
The Chairman chuckled lightly, as he looked
through one of the many windows. The sun remained high in the sky. Evening
was still a couple hours away. "It seems you have some time before you have
to be home for dinner. Would you two like a tour of the tower while you're
here?"


Expecting to be scolded for being where she shouldn't be, Momiji was elated
to be offered a tour of such a wondrous building. "Wow, really? I would
love to see your tower!"





Writer: Sindraste

Date Tue Jul 29 01:06:53 2014

To Azheri Bloodlust All ( Admin Dekaios Immortal Religion Storyline )

Subject Acceptance



The dim, crimson light of the sanctum pulsed with an eerie light, a
strangely vital thrum of power radiating from a black wooden edifice that
dominated the center of the chamber. The lacquered coffin stood ajar, its
occupant pacing the visceral room and smiling with a nearly unfathomable
joy. The vampire's smile stretched cold lips painfully- the very sensation
of mild discomfort a joy to the entity that wore stolen flesh. The
satisfaction it felt, however, was entirely its own. The immense pleasure
of work completed.

The Warlord had accepted it.

It had been a labor of months, months of currying favor with the underlings
of the Dungeon. Befriending the ogre, Rogle, simple as it was, and earning
its respect had been the very first step in its carefully-crafted plan. It
was a stout fellow, one well-regarded by its peers. Krazeth, too, had
fallen into its favor quickly, one of the few with the eyes to see it for
what it was and capable of respecting the power it commanded. Even the
Overlord- the man who was to become Warlord, had taken to it, accepted the
gift of its power without question and instead fostering trust as more and
more bodies were added to the pile.

Notes were passed back and forth- first to Jazaren, a fruitless venture that
still could ruin the veneer of happiness it wore as it paced. Then Deza'th
had stepped up, championing it, and wrested the reins of the Dungeon from
feebler hands. The door was opened.

However, it had not been enough, was not proof of its devotions. More favor
was to be sought. The vampire had traveled back across the world, slipping
through shadows and between the cracks of the world, through unseen methods
and hidden ways finding the ear of the Count of Abaddon. Orlen Aingar's
prayers, he had said, were heard by the Lord of Death. It was thus that the
vampire murmured the supplications desired to be carried. Promises of many
more souls to be reaped, orisons of thanks for the existence it enjoyed in
its shell of cold earth and flesh. Such prayers were uttered, it was said,
and the vampire was satisfied so.

The vampire's pacing stopped, and it looked at the coffin that thrummed with
the vital power, eye teeth exposed as it walked slowly to its sanctuary,
pressing delicate, gloved fingertips against the engraving of its own name
embossed in the wood. The final trial, yes, that was the one that pleased
it the most. Letters of faith, a calling to All of the Dungeon who had seen
its actions. Who had received its favor and had been much pleased by the
efforts. Letters from Minions and Reavers, Bloodletters and even an
Underlord. Letters of recommendation and praise, letters from those who
would back it in any venture, who would delight in seeing its power wielded
for Fatale.

These letters, it had taken for itself. With a creak, the coffin opened,
and the vampire gazed within through red-tinted lenses at the sheaves of
delicate parchment strewn in the confined space. It was a strange sort of
response, an almost fetishist act to preserve the letters that lauded it,
but its ego was stroked by the adulations, and so it slept among the proof
of its power.

The shadows writhed with necromantic power and the raw energy of the
demi-plane of shadow, and the vampire turned its head, closing its eyes and
leaving its den with reluctance. The Warlord was not done with it yet.
There were lives to claim.

Lethe'lain surged forward, becoming immaterial in near an instant, and
within the span of a breath the chamber was empty, with no sign of its
having been there at all.




Writer: Megan

Date Tue Jul 29 10:21:57 2014




Writer: Tahereh

Date Wed Jul 30 09:25:38 2014




Writer: Nathalos

Date Wed Jul 30 11:30:57 2014




Writer: Ilimilipili

Date Wed Jul 30 11:54:12 2014

To All ( IMM RP )

Subject A Caged Songbird - The First Verse



Perhaps the most noted change, when All was said and done, was the song.
Where before a happy and elated tune rang out throughout the Verminasian
docks, now it had been replaced with a haunting melody, the notes soft and
cold as a banshee's warning.

Where before men walked the docks and worked the ships with happy smiles
plastered across their song-struck faces, now only the emotionles spirits of
ancient beings passed, lugging supplies to and from the Requiem, neglecting
all beyond that sweet and sorrowful ship.

It was not unhappy, per say; no anger laced this new song, no malice. It
was simply eerie, like the death-knell of a church-bell, heralding some
fallen virtue or another. It was simple; it was pure; it was grace.

The sweet songbird, still wearing her Captain's badge upon her cape, sat
atop her nest, gazing unseeingly over the waves, her eyes never once
wandering towards the land behind her. Her emotions, as always, lay masked
beneath that tender smile of hers; that sensuous laugh and those delicate
movements.

And yet the song went on, seeming to chill the very air with her thoughts.

Perhaps...it was almost time.



 


Dark


Dark & Shattered Lands (DSL)
Copyright 1996 - 2014.
 All rights reserved.