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The apparent devastation sting Nott's heart as he wades through the streets. So many threads cut short, what could have become of them? What delightful tapestries could have been woven out of these lives, had this immense waste and stupidity not occurred? The three pillars unnerve him slightly...

Nott is huffing and puffing quite loudly as he runs along the Ombrelune streets, along with the rest of the soldiers of Ryu's entourage. Only difference is that they've seen combat, whereas Nott most definitely hasn't. He's a natural sprinter, not a marathon runner, and the extra weight from the...

Nott's eyes dart between the various bubbles from underneath his hood. Eyes hued green not of envy, but by the touch of Jupiter. Although he hid it well, he was often fascinated by the various locales and milieu of the Celestial City. His gaze lingers slightly on those with privacy screens up...

As his fellow deathknights gather, The Apostle listens and nods. The maps and reports where a bit beyond him to be honest, but it seems that Voice could make sense of them. "You seem confident in the information you've managed to obtain. A commendable effort, Voice. While the ways of war is...

"Aye, Voice speaks with wisdom. I think extending an open hand is our best option." the Apostle says. "Where would we meet them, and how would such a meeting be arranged? If they've already encountered hostilities, then perhaps they will be weary of strangers." He glanced at his present company...

Toymaker. His name was well spoken, and the Apostle could even appreciate the macabre beauty of his craft. "Do we know what happens to those from Autochthon that perish? Have those that succumbed to the Great Contagion recently shown up in the Underworld?" Are we delivering their freedom, or...

The Apostle nods as his Deathlord speak. "Considering a friendly approach may be wise. If this is indeed an invasion force, they would most likely look for allies. Such a relationship could easily be exploited, I believe." His tone is flat and matter-of-fact. "Of course, this olive branch we...

It was a lot to take in, this history lesson and his master's ambitious plans. But if it was true, and a new Underworld could be made, the resources made available could free thousands of souls from bondage. As the Voice airs her idea of mosquitos, the Apostle joins her in looking at the...

The Apostle strides into the throne room, having replaced his simple dark robe with a similar one, albeit slightly more formal. The matt black fabric now featured buttons of polished wood and silver detailing around the edges of the sleeves and collar. A red stole embroided with prayers in Old...

Creation teems with the uncounted masses of lost souls chained to the cycle of reincarnation. It is hard for the Apostle to ignore their plight, and thus returning to the Underworld is bittersweet. Although it is a far more pleasant place to exist in, if only for the absence of the hated sun, is...

Kritas holds out his right hand, open with palm facing towards the sky. With the other hand, he retrieves the elaborate, eight inch long crane-shaped blade from his belt and places it upon his palm. With the tip of the blade pointing towards the best, he extends his hand and utters a few words...

Kritas saw no value in keeping the great beast alive. "If you have the means to bring it down, my good man, then by all means to do!" he shouted as he covered his ears.

As the creature appears and ramapges, Kritas shares Caesura's look of shock and bewilderment. He winces as the creature lunges at Orrin, but fortunately this new friend seem to be hold back, and even wound the great beast. As Zaal enters the fray, Kritas gathers his composure to do the same...

"I will take you up on that offer, lady Caesura." Kritas said. "Aye, I think traveling together for a while is wise, Orrin. Whatever you need to handle, if it threatens Tybor, and by extension Camblin, you will have all the aid I can give you." He rises from his seat, the chair dissolving into...

Kritas studied Caesura, weighing her words as she spoke. Calculations ran through his mind, trying to construct a cost-benefit analysis of trusting this otherworldly being. He was familiar with deception though, and the fae were not ones for outright lies. Although the situation may be slightly...

"I see.." Kritas says in response to Zaal's statement, and turns his attention to Caesura and Orrin. "That is high payment to offer, Lady Caesura. Then again, it is a dangerous task you ask." His gaze falls upon Orrin. You are much more powerful that I expected, or dared to hope. Camblin has...

Kritas could feel the words of the performer reach into his heart and mind, like a riptide threatening to pull him under. It was akin to when he first fell theurgy burn in his soul, and all-consuming feeling of creation from which there could be no escape. Except, it could. He had been there...

Kritas studies Orrin's display of strength carefully. Although he makes no outward sign of it, he finds the feat impressive, and inside his mind the wheels start turning. Equally fascinating is of course the interaction between Lady Caesura and her servants. Their... artificial appearance had...

Kritas rises calmly. Things were getting interesting, and perhaps there is something to be gained here. "Mr Orrin, I would encourage you to accept the offer. If I am not misremembering, you always enjoyed a good brawl, and she seems to already be aware of your reputation as a brawler, and thus...

Kritas had spent one day and one night in the sleepy town of Tyvor, much to his chagrin. Although his visions had led him here he did not know why, and sometimes he was mistaken in his scrying. The thought of wasting time here when there was so much to do wore on his nerves. So it was a great...