Fantasy Arva: Tides of Darkness [IC] [Closed]

[Fighting Monk]

"Da'Vost, pleasure to make your acquaintance." He says returning the bow. "In all my travels I don't think I'm familiar with the South Spire nor the term Fateseekr. Are you some kind of priest?" He takes another large sip from his bottle. "I only ask as I myself am one and curious if our group will favor with the divine." Of course in the mind of Krasso the only god that mattered was the King of Satyrs, the Missing God, but he was willing to entertain the theological musings of others in these dark times.

 

[joshuadim]

Zakala cocked an eyebrow towards Waylond as he approched Hughin, interested to know what a knight was doing here exactly. And when it became obvious he was wanting to join up, she was further interested to hear this out. "A pleasure to meet you, ser knight." Hughin spoke as he looked over the man. "And aye, we are looking for swords for our group." Hughin also took note of the squire that was with Waylond, a young lad to be sure but certainly had some experience as well by this point hopefully. "I suppose it will be you and the boy looking to join us?"

 

[Dmaster]

The large bird creature clacks his beak quietly in thought, somewhat prepared for this question but working on finding the best way to explain it. "I am an Aervis, and our kin all reside in great spires to draw us that much closer to the heavens, the Aether." he states. "We Fateseekers are granted visions of times passed and times waiting to transpire, and we follow those strands to our destiny. No priest, but one who studies and uses this force for the betterment of all kind." With the book on the table Krasso could see that he was reading something that looked to be completely esoteric. Each page was etched in slightly-shimmering blue runes of a language he did not understand.

 

[Breadman]

"The boy?" Waylond asked as he looked that his squire was already behind him "Ah. Yes, me and the boy." He turned back to Zakala "Ser Waylond, the swift and this is my cousin and squire, Pottrey." Pottrey remembered to bow his head slightly when introduced. Make sure to make a good impression to a lady, his cousin told him. "He needs some experience and I need some excitement in my life. Your crew seems to be in need of help, so I believe we can be mutually helpful to each other."

 

[Adobe]

Ediunn pinched herself. 'Stop being so nervous'. She took the final few steps, before a Satyr abruptly cut her short. Recovering her posture, Ediunn walked over to the Ocean-Bird, pulling off her left glove, reaching out a hand.

"I'm, Edia, Edia Gr, White, Edia White." She said, keeping her voice low and polite. 'Fuck'. She had slipped up already, and quite badly. "I was wondering if you had a spare place at your table, 'v traveled far and on a rather limited budget." Unlike the more, aggressive members of her people, Ediunn tended to stray away from intimidation and stuck to the more docile approach. But even her manners couldn't detract from the growing hunger she had, the growing smell of food around her not helping in the slightest.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Valentina was most pleased with the response of the captain. She gave the man a polite little bow, before trying to make her way to the rest of the newly forming company. However, an attractive knight and his squire caught the attention of the swashbuckler. "My! Even caught the attention of valiant knights? This company sure promises a lot! I like it." She gave the knight a little bow and a wink before moving to the table where the rest of the company was. Up close, she could see the satyr talking with that strange bird creature. A blonde woman was nearby trying to approach the bird. There was also a man with a mask sitting there, who looked like an interesting fellow. "...Well then! I see we have a very varied party." she said, while giving everyone a little bow. "I am Valentina Solola! A pleasure to make your acquaintance!"

 

[Emperor Sagan]

The north was disgusting. The buildings were made of rotting wood and thatched rooftops, the only structures of any worth being the stone bastions she had seen on occasion nestled on hilltops and mountains. Vaguely she was aware of the temperature and humidity through sorcerous attunement. Cold, drab, and wet. It was utterly revolting. There had always been talk of different lands far away, some lush, others barren, but these Riverlands were nothing but a mire of filth. It was a wonder disease wasn't more rampant here. Hygiene would be difficult to maintain here in this clammy environment.

Qalhatret marveled at the paper she held in her hands. A recruiting notice, but that mattered less than the concept that paper could be so easily utilized in a single manner. These had been posted all over. A scribe who wasted even an inch of paper was liable to be whipped, or worse. She knew of a young man fed to crocodiles for falling asleep at a table, his candle burning six square segments of paper. Technologically it seemed the mortals who remained had some advancement in some ways, and regressed in others. How such filthy people managed to survive was beyond her mind.

She sighted out the den that served as the meeting place for the sell-swords, and she shuffled in through the door with staff in hand, ignoring the looks of those on the street nearby. Those of the flesh were weak-willed, ignorant, and above all, rude. Souls were much nicer when they were stripped of their soft bits. Then they could sing and dance to the tune of the divine and honored pharaoh, but until then, they were good only for animal bait, to be diced and tossed into the waters so that the current could turn red.

Her curiosity was thoroughly peaked when she eyed the living-things in the tavern. Not all were humans or elves, who she was well acquainted with. There were more - animal looking creatures that strode like humans, like the gods of old, but clearly no such thing were they. She could sense sorcery about the bird-thing, and she knew she would confront this sorcerer soon, as her attention turned towards another - a horned woman, red of skin, lingering nearby at the bar. That was most fascinating. She pushed past another woman, armored man, and his little companion speaking to some mustached man at the bar, and moved towards the red skin and horned woman sitting beside him. Qalhatret's gate was unnatural, as if she were a puppet who had escaped its string, and her cloth shrouded limbs were thin and almost emaciated looking. The only clothing she seemed to wear was some manner of half-skirt that covered only her flanks, colored in drab blue scales that were so faded they were near grey, some stiff half-cuirass that covered only her shoulders, neck, and upper chest, and a fan-like metal headdress. Upon her back was a strange assortment of bound and bagged items, including a dog-headed urn, but the clearly most noticeable feature of her body was the intricately carved, feminine alabaster or marble facemask. It was locked in a somewhat neutral expression, the lips slightly parted, the eyes slender but watchful. However, when she tilted her head the right way, the angle turned it into an arrogant snarl.

One of the armored men began speaking to the horned, red woman, but Qalhatret walked past this towering figure and pointed at the demon.

"You, woman of red," she said to Zakala. She stretched one decrepit arm forwards and placed the flyer on bartop, and tapped it with one boney, cloth-shrouded finger. As she did so, sand shook itself from her hand. "I am here for the terms listed on this document." Her accent was very foreign, exotic even, and startlingly clear and clean to be coming from such a ruined looking body, if there was even one underneath all those rags. This horned woman looked important. She had been blessed by the divine with good looks.

 

[Dmaster]

Da'Vost leered at Edia as she fumbled with her words, though there was no aggression in that gaze. Rather he seemed confused by her nerves as well as the gesture she made with her hand. It was some form of greeting, yes, he can recall that much from his studies. A quiet click of his beak and he stretched out his hand to merely poke at her palm gently, thinking that was what he was meant to do. "Hm..." he said as he lowered his hand, simply bowing yet again. "I am Da'Vost. It is good to meet your acquaintance." Similar to her he also botched his phrasing, yet he did so with extreme confidence that showed that it was unintentional. "If budget is a concern, perhaps join this mercenary group for funds." the Fateseeker recommends.

His head swiveled just as Qalhatret emerged, somewhat of a familiarity to them as he looked her over. Hailing from the desert no doubt, a place that his kin had combed over and explored now and then. The Archivists may have pilfered one of their tombs for artifacts, believing such a civilization to be dead entirely. Hopefully she does not harbor any ill-intent for such misgivings. They will chat in time, for now he turned his attention back to Edia.

 

[joshuadim]

"Indeed we can be." Hughin spoke as he looked the two over. He certainly didn't need to ask if they had any skills that would be of use, for a knight was already a warrior one could rely on. The squire was a different story, and hopefully it wouldn't take much to bring him up to shape. "Alright, welcome aboard both of you." he then said, shaking Waylond's hand. "There are plenty of seats over there, make yourselves comfortable and get to know your fellows."

Zakala meanwhile, had to contend with... whatever it was that had just arrived and began to speak with her. At first she was frozen stiff and didn't know what exactly to say to this figure. But she then mustered herself up to speak: "Uh... yes. We are looking for, uh, anyone who might be of use in our... venture." While the words came out a bit stiff and oddly phrased, it was better than nothing. And it was done as Zakala was looking over seemed to be a doll come to life, so ornate yet vividly animated like this. She couldn't help but wonder where exactly it came from and why it was here exactly. She wasn't exactly sure what Qalhatret meant by terms, as she thought it would be pretty obvious on the poster that pay came after a job was done. But perhaps she meant as in how to get in?

"Well... do you have anything that might be useful for our line of work?" she then asked.

By this point, Hughin had finished speaking with Waylond and was now listening intently on the conversation between Zakala and Qalhatret. He too was quite intrigued as well as a bit stunned at yet another strange being such as Qalhatret making their way to his company. Yet some of the patrons in the bar did not share this sentiment as some of them whispered to each other: "A bloody freak show, that's what's happening here." one of them whispered. "Let's get out of here lads."

A few of the tables near the front of the establishment emptied and left, leaving their payments for drinks on the tables but without so much as a goodbye to Robert.

 

[Doomevil]

Kregan turned to those who wandered into the tavern, specifically the she-mummy who came in. Undead, bah. Kregan rolled his eyes, it was a mixed topic that's for sure. There was a woman named Valentina who greeted everyone. He was a man of culture, so he responded by giving a brief nod. "Kregan Marshal. I'm here to keep this Company alive and fit for combat. I see the Gods have gifted us some unusual individuals here." Kregan said before turning to the one called Qalhatret and Da'Vost.

 

[Fighting Monk]

Krasso gave 'Edia' a once over and as much as his Satyr blood told him to pounce he held himself back. "We of course have room at our table for someone whose traveled so far afield as yourself. And on a limited budget no less! My my it seems we have much in common my dear." he said to the blonde haired woman. Taking another large swig from his bottle he turned back to Da'Vost deciding he'd taken a liking to the bigbird and his foreign ways.

"That is indeed a book of great wisdom by its magical appearance" he said. My people have taken an ancient oath to keep all of our sacred wisdom passed down from generation to generation by word of tongue. Long ago we were persecuted in many lands and all of our texts burned for fear of containing foul magic. Thus the epics, the stories of old, spells, rites, and even the name of the Missing God is held firmly in the voice, soul, and mind of Satyric bards like myself." He says strumming a lovely tune on his lyre. "Again, It is a pleasure to make acquaintance with a creature of knowledge. It seems so few are left in this chaotic world of ours."

 

[Emperor Sagan]

"Useful?" Her tone was almost offended. "I am Qalhatret, saved by Nebrekhotep, blessed be Her name, our Eternal Queen. Of course I have skills. I am a physician and tender of the arcane conduits. By hand or the power of the immutable leylines, I can mend flesh or strip it bare to the bone if I desire. The old gods are gone, and so I am a priestess unto myself, and my blessings come from almighty Nebrekhotep, the Savior." While the primary objective was research and study, this would prove an excellent endeavor for development of other skills. After all, if she wanted to dissect these unknown races, where better to be than at their side when they fall in battle?

"What is the word in your youthful tongue? Sorcerer? Mage? Necromancer?"

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Valentina looked at the masked mercenary as he introduced himself as Kregan Marshal. She gave the man another polite nod. "Indeed, it seems this company has been blessed with quite extravagant characters. But that adds to the charm, doesn't it?" She eyed the strange mummy-like creature, and then looked at the strange bird man as it continued to talk in a esoteric way with both the blonde woman and the satyr. None of them introduced themselves. Probably because they were having such an interestingly boring conversation. Valentina let out a small chuckle and sat next to Marshal. "Well tell me, Master Marshal, how do you plan to keep this company fit? Are you a veteran by any chance? Or someone who trained men at some camp or lords court? Please, do tell."

 

[Adobe]

Ediunn hastily sat down, placing both her hands onto her lap. She tilted her head to watch the other woman's interaction, giving a now named Valentina a smile.

She couldn't help it, she tried to restrain herself but she inevitably burst. "You're an ocean-bird, right? Yuu used to tell us all about you. You the ones that built the rod, one over the snow sea." Ediunn found herself brought back to her childhood, sitting on the floor amongst the other children. Old Yuu was the village sage, though all that ment to Ediunn was that she knew some good stories. "If you walked all the way to the very tip of Vendill, you could see it."

And as fast as her eyes had widened, they died down again. As the though of the snowy mountains and deep forest brought a flurry of uncomfortable memories with them. She was snapped back by the comments made by the Satyr, a creature just as unusual ad the bird to her.

"Well I hope your travels were as enjoyable as mine!" She smiled, pulling the glove back onto her left hand. Tilting her head to side to examine the horns petruding from the Satyr's head. "Can' say I've seen something like you before, it's all been quite wonderful."

 

[Breadman]

Waylond was satisfied that they found work so quickly and it was with a rather interesting group of individuals, but one more caught his eye. This one was undead and a rather rude corpse at that. She claimed to be a sort of healing mage, but he was most perplexed as to what one of her kind would want to do with a mercenary group. People didn't trust the dead and with good reason, but they presented a curiosity to him. Big questions were beyond him, reserved for those who archive and delve into magic, for him it was more of the normal people part of the equation. What goes on in that old mind of theirs?

"Come Pottrey." Waylond pulled his squire to his side "Let's meet the other people who will share our company in this journey."

"Did you see that corpse? What the fuck is going on?" The boy stammered

"Don't be rude now. If she causes trouble, we'll handle her." They reached the table where the rest had gathered "Greetings friends, I am Waylond the swift and this is my squire, Pottrey. We will be joining this band of sellswords and provide our own services to the group."

 

[Dmaster]

Da'Vost nodded to the Satyr as he drew attention to his book. "Indeed - the Aervis covet such teachings, though we store our knowledge for ease of access for future generations. A whole caste of our kin aims to keep such knowledge safe, and the most dangerous of such is given an intense watch over." the Aervis explains. "I am sorry that your kin have been so ruthlessly pursued. Those that fear knowledge only seek to destroy progress, and if they were to shed their ignorance we may all go in peace to ever grander heights."

When Edia sat down and began to excitedly speak of his people, or at least what her kind thought of his people the Fateseeker was rather taken aback. It was not often that someone spoke of his kind with respect, let alone even recognizing who he was. "Ocean-Bird you say? We call ourselves Aervis, though your culture is of course free to call use whatever you prefer." Da'Vost states with a patient smile. "The 'rod' you speak of is the South Spire, which I come from. I am pleased that we have spoken about your kind, and I apologize for any lack of contact. We tend to keep to ourselves, though I am certain that we have observed you from afar. Do know that you all are free to journey to the Spire, should you bear peaceful intentions."

"The travel is long - though I am certain my journey is just beginning. It is exciting, in a way."

 

[Doomevil]

Kregan grunted in response to Valentina. If she wanted his opinion, she was gonna get one. "Sellsword companies always have a risk of letting inexperienced people into their ranks. No respect, no discipline. It drags veterans like me down. Back in the Lowlands, actions speak louder than words. If you don't pull your weight around, why do we want you around for?" Kregan gave a rhetorical question before sighing. They needed people like him to shape the group to be stronger and better, there was no time for errors. "I'll admit, we're barely doing meet n greeting so I'll reserve my judgment on the talent." Kregan said with a hint of irritation.

He slowly turned to Valentina, "What exactly are you good at?"

 

[Fighting Monk]

Krasso nods politely to bid welcome to those arriving, a woman in nautical attire, a knight with his squire, and some kind of pale woman in rags. What a motley crew this was turning into.

“I appreciate your sympathy Da’Vost. There are few who are so kind to Satyrs. I’ve spent the better half of the last century wandering this continent in search of the Missing God as all Satyrs are called to do. According to the legends of old he should be here somewhere in the East but none have found him. Alas, this is why people mistrust us for we are a nomadic folk bound to no land until we may once again return across the Western seas.” He takes another swig of his bottle, the alcohol starting to possess him as the rites dictate. “I hope someday to see these lands of yours.” He says to Da’Vost and Edia. “Perhaps it is there the King of the Satyrs hides.”

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Valentina listened to Marshal carefully since he seemed like a man that knew what he was talking about. "I'm glad to know we have such an expert on our group then!" She gave the man a friendly smile before answering his question. She decided to have a bit of fun and add a few innocent little lies. "You don't have to worry about me at all master Marshal, I am a renowned swordwoman in my homeland, the 'mistress of the rapier' they called me in Dandolia. Of course, I have other abilities as well! I am well versed with lockpicking and while I am not a bard and I can't cast magics with my voice, I am proud to say my singing voice often raised the morale of the crews I have worked with."

It would be hard for a normal person to tell that she was lying about being a famous swordwoman, but the truth is that she's not bad at it either, having won several duels and fought several creatures throughout her adventures. "I hope you don't mind me asking the same question to you Master Marshal." She then noticed the knight and his squire finally introduced themselves, she gave the man a polite nod before poking a bit of fun at his nickname "The Swift? Why do the call you like that Ser Knight? I hope it is for flattering reasons."

 

[joshuadim]

Zakala was not sure what exactly to say, and was uncertain of what exactly she had done to offend the being in front of her but hoped that it was just an slight error. "I'm not sure you'd want to use the term necromancer, it has a bad reputation. Let's just go with sorcerer then." she said before turning to Hughin. The man himself was quite intrigued, if not a bit concerned about where this thing had come from. He had heard whispers regarding the 'Eternal Queen', reigning somewhere far in the Scorch Wastes and away from any notable civilizations. What was more unusual, was that while most of the undead in the world resided in Quoidge, with these undead they were in an almost inhospitable desert filled with nothing but sand and ruins.

"Well, so long as you can heal us when needed you're welcome aboard..." Hughin spoke up finally.

 

[Breadman]

"Why my lady of course. Every good knight earns his nickname during combat." Waylond answered Valentia as he was siting down "Ask any who know me and they will tell you that I win duels in seconds and I ride like my horse has wings." He gave her a friendly smile "And also like any good knight, combat isn't my only talent. But enough about me, tell me something about you."

 

[CaptainFizzgig]

People didn’t like her and she wasn’t sure why. There had been at least five folks who had tried to beat her in the past week and a town ago and she’d accidentally seriously hurt one of them when they moved in a way she didn’t expect. She wasn’t supposed to kill humans. She might’ve killed that human. They wouldn’t let her treat him, which was petty and stupid of them, so she’d never know.

Another mark against her, she supposed. It couldn’t get much worse. She was terribly lost and didn’t understand what the letters meant. It would be so much easier if she knew what the letters meant! Everyone else seemed to stare at pages and get information from them, so they must be important. And her masters were never far from books and they were the smartest people on the planet.

This place was better than the last, she supposed. She was getting all sorts of looks and people seemed to think it was okay to yell weird things at her in the street and glare at her, but no one was trying to hit her on the back of the head with a bottle sloshing with foul smelling liquid.

Invira did what she could; she watched. Dodging people and horses and carts and the horse piles in the street. She learned little as conversation seemed to halt whenever people noticed she was in ear shot and more than one looked like they were going to try and chase her away if she didn’t leave post-haste.

It was then that she saw someone that looked similar to her putting around papers. She did a much better job at ignoring the rude humans than Invira had. The woman seemed intent on her business or likely would have spotted her fellow demon follow her with her eyes. She hoped that she might be able to understand that poster-demons weren’t allowed to know how to read after all.

But, alas, there were words all over the page. She must be out and about, doing errands for humans.

So she tried to follow after the woman but had lost her in the crowd. In truth, it was unlikely she would have found her again if not for the odd patrons that started walking into a particular establishment. A feathered man who made her nose twitch, a goat-man in such a hurry, several humans, and an odd woman who left a taste of mushrooms in her mouth.

She walked in after them, peeking curiously in to see a fellow red-skinned woman sitting at the bar with the mushroom-woman and a large man. The rest were there as well, talking amongst themselves.

 

[Doomevil]

Kregan raised a quick eyebrow once Valentina was surely confident about her abilities as a swordsman. While she doesn't look like another Brita the Breaker so far, Kregan took her words. "We'll see about that on the field, Solola." And when Valentina wanted to ask the same question, the Praetorian gave a obvious pfft.

"I'm good at hunting all sorts of people: mercenaries, animals, knights. You name the average warrior and I probably dealt with them before. I've also had my fair share of leading a battle when necessary, if it comes to that. My methods aren't exactly... restricted. Especially in the Lowlands." He rested his elbows on the table, wondering when will this Company mobilize.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

"Hmph, as you say," Qalhatret nodded to Zakala and then glanced at Hughin, the man putting this venture together. "Heal? Of course I can heal. I can even bring you back if you pass the dark threshold, but I would recommend doing so willingly. As in, taking a fine Elixir of the Pheasant's Wail before sleep. You won't wake up. Makes it easier to raise a soul that has died at peace, then you will be free of all that..." she paused, flailing her hand around at his body, "unnecessary meat. No promise on the state of your mind and thoughts, if you'd even have any left. Heh."

The words of Kregan, Waylond, and Valentina just nearby caught her ear and Qalhatret turned slightly towards these people. Each of them spoke very highly of themselves, forgoing modesty to boast their undoubtedly fragile egos. She did not doubt those were all hollow words.

"Drivel," she states to them, glancing between the three and ignoring the little squire entirely. "Childish boasts. The Swift? Swift away from the battlefield, I'd say. Mistress of the Rapier? Hmph, more like Mistress of the Prick," she said, glancing Valentina over, before turning towards Kregan. "You there, man who speaks so highly of himself. That helmet. Is that bone, or perchance metals?"

 

[Doomevil]

The she-mummy definitely had a way to spark a confrontation. Kregan turned to the she-mummy and chuckled, relaxed on his stool. "It's made of metal. Bone doesn't hold up so well and breaks easy compared to other materials. But I suppose you wouldn't know that yourself mummy. Do yourself a favor and fall in line. We're all here to earn some coin and do some wet work." Kregan said with a collected manner before shaking his head. There was no use bickering with someone like that, better to ignore it.