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Fantasy Bitter Spite
- Thread starter Captain Gabriel
- Start date
Captain Gabriel
Three Thousand Club
It was a sunny day and a man in his early twenties wearing a white robe and a golden key-chain was standing on a wooden stool. "Attention, citizens of the Cabrinate Empire! We are currently looking for a group of talented, young men and women to join the Majai Knights! The current Commander-In-Chief, Sir Nicholas Flamel will be meeting you in front of the Imperial Palace at noon, tomorrow! However, not everyone will be accepted!" He announced to the public, getting off the stool, only to walk away with his escort.
The crowd around got heated up, chattering loudly about this announcement. The scorching hot sun of the summer had just risen to the top, signaling that it was noon.
Would this be a good opportunity for our heroes?
Troldmand
Birdsie
@Eternal_Cookie
CrimsonEclipse
Alteras
FireMaiden
The Warden
Mach1ne_H3ad
Elephantom
SecretRock
Archdemon
The crowd around got heated up, chattering loudly about this announcement. The scorching hot sun of the summer had just risen to the top, signaling that it was noon.
Would this be a good opportunity for our heroes?
Troldmand
Birdsie
@Eternal_Cookie
CrimsonEclipse
Alteras
FireMaiden
The Warden
Mach1ne_H3ad
Elephantom
SecretRock
Archdemon
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Birdsie
The God-Emperor of Mankind
A hooded man overheard the announcement from a dark alley. His face blurred out by the shadows. The man looked directly at the announcer. His hood revealed a pair of red eyes. He rose an eyebrow, skeptically. But then, he merely walked away, deeper into the labyrinth of buildings.
Once he was within safe distance from public space, he pulled out a blue crystal from under his cloak, revealing his dark-blue hand. He was a dark elf. Tapping the crystal and focusing on it, the device glowed with a bright light. A beam of light reached forward and showed him an image. The image was an 8-pointed star, a symbol that the Followers of Seth commonly utilized.
"My lord, I have grave news to report. I've overheard an announcer in the city square. The Majai Knights are recruiting once again, but I don't think that can be. The Majai Knights are a secret service, are they not?"
Some seconds passed, but the agent heard a response. To anyone further than two meters from him, it would only seem as though a voice whispered back, with instructions and commendations. The words were obscure and hard to grasp. They were doing their best to maintain secrecy.
"Yes, m'lord." The dark elf terminated the connection and hid the crystal back into his cloak.
The agent leaped at the wall in front of him and acrobatically ran up the tight space of the alleyway, reaching the level of the rooftops within seconds. His next step would be to make contact with the rest of his group.
Once he was within safe distance from public space, he pulled out a blue crystal from under his cloak, revealing his dark-blue hand. He was a dark elf. Tapping the crystal and focusing on it, the device glowed with a bright light. A beam of light reached forward and showed him an image. The image was an 8-pointed star, a symbol that the Followers of Seth commonly utilized.
"My lord, I have grave news to report. I've overheard an announcer in the city square. The Majai Knights are recruiting once again, but I don't think that can be. The Majai Knights are a secret service, are they not?"
Some seconds passed, but the agent heard a response. To anyone further than two meters from him, it would only seem as though a voice whispered back, with instructions and commendations. The words were obscure and hard to grasp. They were doing their best to maintain secrecy.
"Yes, m'lord." The dark elf terminated the connection and hid the crystal back into his cloak.
The agent leaped at the wall in front of him and acrobatically ran up the tight space of the alleyway, reaching the level of the rooftops within seconds. His next step would be to make contact with the rest of his group.
SecretRock
The Leader of the Pantheon
Jausi
The sun being out always made a day better, even when in the city. The stares the humans gave here were a little less noticeable when the weather was so fine. Jausi never meant to hear the announcement, but fighting the crowds proved to be too much effort. That was why Jausi was fighting her way through the back of the crowd when the Majai, she assumed, made his announcement to the populace. She paused, watching the man walk away as the crowd began to murmur amongst themselves. She'd heard some rumours, and though she'd assumed they didn't hold any water this sudden proposition was making her rethink that. She began pushing her way forward, ignoring the few jeers thrown her way. A lot of people didn't like her being here still despite the Empire's new "tolerance" towards non-humans. She emerged from the crowd, making sure that she still had everything she needed and continued to her appointment with whatever merchant she was supposed to talk to today. Noon the next day? It might be interesting to check out.
Archdemon
Some random dude on the Internet
(Can't remember the thing I use to shorten the picture so if someone can help me that'd be grand!))
Diarmid
Location: Some bar in some city...
Diarmid stretched and yawned as he climbed out of the bed he slept in. Man was last night a good night, that girl was such really good. He looked at the girl sleeping in his bed and soon he got dressed, he vaguely remembered some promise of love to her. Either way he was leaving and probably never coming back, or at least to this place. Once he got his gear all sorted he left the room and left the Tavern/Inn.
That's when he heard the speech as anyone did. Seemed like the Majai people were recruiting new members or something. The Bard looked at the place where that guy in a white robe sat, or at least he thought it was a white robe. This could be a good opportunity to see if he could lay with some exquisite women, or to see what treasures he could steal.... But then if he did that he'd be hunted down. Probably not the best idea then... Still it is worth a look at least for some women and if he can back out and maybe steal something expensive then it may be worth the risk. Well he didn't really have much to do so he decided to go walk around the city, well he was really pick pocketing whomever he could, and maybe go free a chest of its burdens.
((Open for Interaction))
Alteras
The Sleepy Prisoner
Jabel Vazeran
Administrative Building of the Cabrinate Empire Armed Forces
A young man clad in the red, black, and golds of an imperial uniform rushed down a hallway, attempting to not looked so panicked in front of the guards that were stationed at each door. The hallway itself is bare, with only a red carpet and golden curtains allowed to adorn the path. 2 years ago, this hallway, along with the rest of the building, would've decorated in the splendor of the mighty empire, but it was all looted in the rebellion. For now, the basics will have to do.
At the end of the hallway were double doors, guarded by two soldiers. Instead of standing beside the doors, they stood in front of it, and no one could blame them. In this summer heat, the best place to stand in the whole building was right where those 2 pairs of feet stood. Cold air slowly leaked through the bottom of the doors, easing the guards' work.
The guards could see the hurried man rushing towards them, and they parted and opened the door without hesistation, letting the man continue his run and the cold air to billow outwards down the hall as a quiet avalanche, chilling everyone. But instead of screams, there was sighs of relief.
As the man stepped into the office, the guards slowly closed the doors with a smile. They were happy to have had the brief exposure to the ice of the marshal in this season. The office inside was cold like the snowfields of the far north. 3 sets of curtains are draped open several windows overlooking the plaza. 2 of the windows are opened, leaking out the blissful temperature onto the streets below, letting passerbys the chance to let out the noises of comfort. In the middle was a massive oak desk, designed in the more gothic style. On it was several piles of documents, several scratching pens, a few trinkets, and her sword in its scabbard, displayed in its glory. Behind the desk was the court powerhouse and military leader Marshal Jabel Vazeran, seated on a black leather chair. Despite the season, Jabel still wore her standard uniform of overlapping fabrics and leather. It didn't bother her, as she was naturally letting out the cold air that surrounded the office. Jabel had been staring out of the windows when the young soldier came in.
The man saluted and began to speak. "Marshal Vazeran! Rumors of a man—"
"No need lieutenant, I heard it myself."
"Then is it—"
"No"
"Then Nicolas Flamel?"
Jabel closed her eyes and leaned back.
"Never heard of him."
"An impostor?"
"Maybe."
"What for?"
The question hung in the air for a moment as Jabel lifted her coin, a seal of her connection to the Majai Knights. As she flipped it around in her palm, the Lieutenant stood there taking in the cool air while trying to maintain his professionalism.
"I don't know."
It hung in the air for a while. The answer of uncertainty. The Lieutenant began to spin all the possible fantasys and nightmares in his head as the foremost member and public face of the Majai Knights didn't know what was happening.
"Should I tail him?"
"Don't bother he'll be long gone by now. Besides we know where he'll be."
"And where's that?"
"In front of the Imperial Palace. Tomorrow, at noon."
Then Jabel suddenly stood up and walked toward the door.
"Ma'am?"
"Follow me Lieutenant, it's our day off today. Let's go for a walk."
The young man stood there slightly confused. It was definitely not their day off. It wasn't until Jabel was already halfway through the door before he knew what the Marshal was doing.
(I'll send her somewhere when something interesting happens)
Administrative Building of the Cabrinate Empire Armed Forces
A young man clad in the red, black, and golds of an imperial uniform rushed down a hallway, attempting to not looked so panicked in front of the guards that were stationed at each door. The hallway itself is bare, with only a red carpet and golden curtains allowed to adorn the path. 2 years ago, this hallway, along with the rest of the building, would've decorated in the splendor of the mighty empire, but it was all looted in the rebellion. For now, the basics will have to do.
At the end of the hallway were double doors, guarded by two soldiers. Instead of standing beside the doors, they stood in front of it, and no one could blame them. In this summer heat, the best place to stand in the whole building was right where those 2 pairs of feet stood. Cold air slowly leaked through the bottom of the doors, easing the guards' work.
The guards could see the hurried man rushing towards them, and they parted and opened the door without hesistation, letting the man continue his run and the cold air to billow outwards down the hall as a quiet avalanche, chilling everyone. But instead of screams, there was sighs of relief.
As the man stepped into the office, the guards slowly closed the doors with a smile. They were happy to have had the brief exposure to the ice of the marshal in this season. The office inside was cold like the snowfields of the far north. 3 sets of curtains are draped open several windows overlooking the plaza. 2 of the windows are opened, leaking out the blissful temperature onto the streets below, letting passerbys the chance to let out the noises of comfort. In the middle was a massive oak desk, designed in the more gothic style. On it was several piles of documents, several scratching pens, a few trinkets, and her sword in its scabbard, displayed in its glory. Behind the desk was the court powerhouse and military leader Marshal Jabel Vazeran, seated on a black leather chair. Despite the season, Jabel still wore her standard uniform of overlapping fabrics and leather. It didn't bother her, as she was naturally letting out the cold air that surrounded the office. Jabel had been staring out of the windows when the young soldier came in.
The man saluted and began to speak. "Marshal Vazeran! Rumors of a man—"
"No need lieutenant, I heard it myself."
"Then is it—"
"No"
"Then Nicolas Flamel?"
Jabel closed her eyes and leaned back.
"Never heard of him."
"An impostor?"
"Maybe."
"What for?"
The question hung in the air for a moment as Jabel lifted her coin, a seal of her connection to the Majai Knights. As she flipped it around in her palm, the Lieutenant stood there taking in the cool air while trying to maintain his professionalism.
"I don't know."
It hung in the air for a while. The answer of uncertainty. The Lieutenant began to spin all the possible fantasys and nightmares in his head as the foremost member and public face of the Majai Knights didn't know what was happening.
"Should I tail him?"
"Don't bother he'll be long gone by now. Besides we know where he'll be."
"And where's that?"
"In front of the Imperial Palace. Tomorrow, at noon."
Then Jabel suddenly stood up and walked toward the door.
"Ma'am?"
"Follow me Lieutenant, it's our day off today. Let's go for a walk."
The young man stood there slightly confused. It was definitely not their day off. It wasn't until Jabel was already halfway through the door before he knew what the Marshal was doing.
(I'll send her somewhere when something interesting happens)
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FireMaiden
Grade A Bitch
Standing among the crowd, golden eyes watching the man making an announcement, a shadow cast over her face by a brown hood, Amélie took another swig from the spiced rum. A slightly dusty bottle taken from the tavern she was in not to long ago, her coin purse heavy after not only taking the booze, but beating pretty much anyone who challenged her to an arm wrestling match. Her armor shined, her weapons were visable, and while she had been drinking off an on for the last little bit, She wasn't in any way tipsy, or drunk. Alcoholism really builds up your tolerance. Only Dragons milk, a special ale near the coast got her any type of messed up anymore, but that stuff was expensive. Still, that doesn't matter. Amélie effortlessly made her way through the crowd, taking some coin here and there. She wanted to get gauge the reactions of some of the people near the front, who heard the whole thing, but was stopped when her hood was ripped off her head. Looking over her shoulder, She held up her hand, killing the last of the rum before addressing the man. "What?" She asked, a heavy accent of some sort soaking her voice. This made him crinkle his nose. "I know the eyes of a beast when I sees 'em. Your kind ain't welcome 'ere," he said, though his words held no threat. So, Amélie blew him off. "Fuck if I care," She said, before turning to continue through the crowd.(Open for interaction)
Troldmand
Your Bizarre Acquaintance
Adryen:
"Some market" in "some city" (Presumably capital city?)
That fateful day a fishing boat was sailing to the harbor of a great city, carrying a man and a dozen sacks filled to the brim with the crab meat. Its one and only black sail was directed by the favorable winds. This man stood confidently on the edge of the boat, holding the forestay with one hand and keeping the other on the scabbard attached to his leather belt. He admired the marvel of architecture that city was, the city that withstood the test of time itself. Yet he couldn't help but wonder if someday the people guarding it, loyal servants of the newly reformed Empire, will recognize him and throw the lost lad in some oubliette for his past and present misdeeds, leaving him completely alone to eventually lose his sanity by embracing his deepest fears in that solitude. Fortunately, the guardsmen have never seen his face, only hearing about a smuggler serving the people for a moderate price and sailing on his boat from nation to nation. Crab meat didn't look like something one would smuggle, it is simply too common.
"Crab meat, crab meat," the port guard kept saying as he examined the cargo the boat was transporting, with an untrusty look on his face, hoping to find something that would make his watch a little less tedious, "and crab meat."
"Aye, I've been delivering it for the past two years or so" the man admitted, following the guard around and trying to convince him he has never done anything that goes beyond the local constitution. "Hard to catch, harder to contain. Some of these fuckers could leave ye with no fingers if ye ain't careful enough."
"Then I guess it's a good thing you've already taken care of them haggler" the guard responded and sighed right after, disappointed by the whole sight.
But the laws are laws, the man was innocent and soon enough the sacks were leaving the boat one by one to the residence of a local merchant and man's employer.
"Your name, by the way," the port guard said to the man standing beside him, watching as merchant's men carried the sacks to the city.
"Adryen mate" he said with a satisfied look, holding a new coin purse filled with Imperial gold.
"And the boat?" the guard asked, writing down records to quite a large book with an Imperial insignia on its front cover.
"Dark Words" Adryen said, now looking at the black sail, remembering the five years of boat's history. Every time he watched this black sail, he knew he was the luckiest man there is, for the reasons the sail was colored this way were sinister enough to get him imprisoned, if not something worse.
He rarely had an opportunity to experience the routine of townsfolk, mostly just gazing at the streets brimming with life and, to some degree, happiness, a precious thing in this world. Whenever he held his end of the bargain he'd get his just reward, purchase some food and spend exactly one night in the harbor before sailing back into the endless seas. A transient life for a transient person he thought.
He was acquiring the foods he shall take with him for his future endeavors when he heard the speech of so-called Sir Nicholas Flamel. And he couldn't believe it. Majai Knights are recruiting now, in the time of peace and relative prosperity? Why, and what does it signify if the man is not an imposter? A year ago he witnessed one civil war, could yet another one break out? He had dozens of questions, but no one to answer them. He simply stood there, listening to the speech and watching the event as a whole in hopes that the guardsmen seize the man and proclaim him an imposter and the announcement false. He would bash a head or two, no doubt, but not when his business is blooming, as low as it is. He believed eventually he will earn just enough to prepare the boat and sail to God's Fury and unveil its secrets that were tormenting him all his life, horrendous or enlightening. Maybe in the temples he could acquire his past and determine his future and his fears will be undone at long last.
(I'm going to avoid any contact with the guy after reading the posts above, but Adryen is open for interaction if someone cares to visit the market)
"Some market" in "some city" (Presumably capital city?)
That fateful day a fishing boat was sailing to the harbor of a great city, carrying a man and a dozen sacks filled to the brim with the crab meat. Its one and only black sail was directed by the favorable winds. This man stood confidently on the edge of the boat, holding the forestay with one hand and keeping the other on the scabbard attached to his leather belt. He admired the marvel of architecture that city was, the city that withstood the test of time itself. Yet he couldn't help but wonder if someday the people guarding it, loyal servants of the newly reformed Empire, will recognize him and throw the lost lad in some oubliette for his past and present misdeeds, leaving him completely alone to eventually lose his sanity by embracing his deepest fears in that solitude. Fortunately, the guardsmen have never seen his face, only hearing about a smuggler serving the people for a moderate price and sailing on his boat from nation to nation. Crab meat didn't look like something one would smuggle, it is simply too common.
"Crab meat, crab meat," the port guard kept saying as he examined the cargo the boat was transporting, with an untrusty look on his face, hoping to find something that would make his watch a little less tedious, "and crab meat."
"Aye, I've been delivering it for the past two years or so" the man admitted, following the guard around and trying to convince him he has never done anything that goes beyond the local constitution. "Hard to catch, harder to contain. Some of these fuckers could leave ye with no fingers if ye ain't careful enough."
"Then I guess it's a good thing you've already taken care of them haggler" the guard responded and sighed right after, disappointed by the whole sight.
But the laws are laws, the man was innocent and soon enough the sacks were leaving the boat one by one to the residence of a local merchant and man's employer.
"Your name, by the way," the port guard said to the man standing beside him, watching as merchant's men carried the sacks to the city.
"Adryen mate" he said with a satisfied look, holding a new coin purse filled with Imperial gold.
"And the boat?" the guard asked, writing down records to quite a large book with an Imperial insignia on its front cover.
"Dark Words" Adryen said, now looking at the black sail, remembering the five years of boat's history. Every time he watched this black sail, he knew he was the luckiest man there is, for the reasons the sail was colored this way were sinister enough to get him imprisoned, if not something worse.
He rarely had an opportunity to experience the routine of townsfolk, mostly just gazing at the streets brimming with life and, to some degree, happiness, a precious thing in this world. Whenever he held his end of the bargain he'd get his just reward, purchase some food and spend exactly one night in the harbor before sailing back into the endless seas. A transient life for a transient person he thought.
He was acquiring the foods he shall take with him for his future endeavors when he heard the speech of so-called Sir Nicholas Flamel. And he couldn't believe it. Majai Knights are recruiting now, in the time of peace and relative prosperity? Why, and what does it signify if the man is not an imposter? A year ago he witnessed one civil war, could yet another one break out? He had dozens of questions, but no one to answer them. He simply stood there, listening to the speech and watching the event as a whole in hopes that the guardsmen seize the man and proclaim him an imposter and the announcement false. He would bash a head or two, no doubt, but not when his business is blooming, as low as it is. He believed eventually he will earn just enough to prepare the boat and sail to God's Fury and unveil its secrets that were tormenting him all his life, horrendous or enlightening. Maybe in the temples he could acquire his past and determine his future and his fears will be undone at long last.
(I'm going to avoid any contact with the guy after reading the posts above, but Adryen is open for interaction if someone cares to visit the market)
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Mach1ne_H3ad
(sucks)
Sigvald walked through the city with a heavy gait. A stag was slung over his shoulder, and he hoped to rid himself of it in exchange for some goods that would aid him on his travels. Catching it had been fairly easy, though lugging it all the way into town proved more tiring than he had expected, and he desired to be rid of his burden as soon as possible.
All these towns and cities felt the same to him. With their cramped streets, damp alleyways and noisy marketplaces, he never felt further away from home than he did while in places like these. For how cramped and enclosed their living spaces were, they felt as far apart as they could be. Being used to communal living, he couldn't understand their desire to keep only to themselves and a few select family members. The one place in any of these towns that he could feel comfortable at was the local tavern. There he could meet other travelers, listen to the songs of skalds, and form some level of a bond with people of the area. Anywhere else they simply did business with you and went on their way, but under the influence of alcohol they became much more lively and open. Speaking of which, he had recently discovered a taste for the local ales, which were certainly better than the fermented goat milk he had grown used to at home. Society did have its advantages.
As he was walking down the street, he noticed a large crowd of people gathered around a man on a box. He had learned by now that this was usually a good sign that the man in question was not to be trusted. Many bizarre ideas were preached from on top of boxes. Sigvald had heard crazy people spouting such insane lies as the existence of only one god, humans being descended from primates, or the most implausible one yet, the idea that none of them existed at all and were just characters in some kind of metaphysical narrative. At any rate, his impression of men standing on top of boxes was not a great one. This man in particular seemed to be drawing a larger crowd than your average psycho. Even more peculiar were the armed guards flanking his position. There was a general order of importance over the whole thing, so Sigvald decided to go see what all the fuss was about.
The man explained that an elite force of knights was recruiting, and that prospective new members should show up outside of the imperial palace at noon the next day. Sigvald had never fought with knights before, and decided it might be a good opportunity. However, he was having trouble finding the main market, much less the imperial palace, and was going to need directions. He hated asking most citizens, as they would typically just snap at you or give you the briefest possible answer before continuing on their way.
In front of him were two people, a man and a women, with a large bottle of alcohol in her hand. They appeared to be arguing. Sigvald overheard the word "beast" and all of a sudden the woman pushed her way past him and through the crowd angrily. If she was indeed beastkin, perhaps she would understand his position. As she stormed off down the street, he called out to her:
"Hold on a second, I have something I need to ask of you!"
FireMaiden
All these towns and cities felt the same to him. With their cramped streets, damp alleyways and noisy marketplaces, he never felt further away from home than he did while in places like these. For how cramped and enclosed their living spaces were, they felt as far apart as they could be. Being used to communal living, he couldn't understand their desire to keep only to themselves and a few select family members. The one place in any of these towns that he could feel comfortable at was the local tavern. There he could meet other travelers, listen to the songs of skalds, and form some level of a bond with people of the area. Anywhere else they simply did business with you and went on their way, but under the influence of alcohol they became much more lively and open. Speaking of which, he had recently discovered a taste for the local ales, which were certainly better than the fermented goat milk he had grown used to at home. Society did have its advantages.
As he was walking down the street, he noticed a large crowd of people gathered around a man on a box. He had learned by now that this was usually a good sign that the man in question was not to be trusted. Many bizarre ideas were preached from on top of boxes. Sigvald had heard crazy people spouting such insane lies as the existence of only one god, humans being descended from primates, or the most implausible one yet, the idea that none of them existed at all and were just characters in some kind of metaphysical narrative. At any rate, his impression of men standing on top of boxes was not a great one. This man in particular seemed to be drawing a larger crowd than your average psycho. Even more peculiar were the armed guards flanking his position. There was a general order of importance over the whole thing, so Sigvald decided to go see what all the fuss was about.
The man explained that an elite force of knights was recruiting, and that prospective new members should show up outside of the imperial palace at noon the next day. Sigvald had never fought with knights before, and decided it might be a good opportunity. However, he was having trouble finding the main market, much less the imperial palace, and was going to need directions. He hated asking most citizens, as they would typically just snap at you or give you the briefest possible answer before continuing on their way.
In front of him were two people, a man and a women, with a large bottle of alcohol in her hand. They appeared to be arguing. Sigvald overheard the word "beast" and all of a sudden the woman pushed her way past him and through the crowd angrily. If she was indeed beastkin, perhaps she would understand his position. As she stormed off down the street, he called out to her:
"Hold on a second, I have something I need to ask of you!"
FireMaiden
SecretRock
The Leader of the Pantheon
Jausi
Checking her pockets, Jausi didn't find her coin purse. One of the reasons she hated crowds was some pickpocket always took advantage and it seemed she was the victim far too often. At least she still had her wine. She took a drink from the water skin and turned to face the crowd."Thief!" She called out to no one in particular. Immediately people began checking their belongings, some people calling out about missing coin purses as well. She scanned the crowd for anyone running or looking guilty or doing something thieves did (she didn't know what thieves did) but it was a little hard to focus on individuals.
FireMaiden
Grade A Bitch
Once again, She was stopped by a human. Containing a groan, She slowly turned to face him, cocking her eyebrow once her eyes fell upon him. He looked a little young dispite being taller than her, and he had a stag. So he was a hunter, but the kind she could stomach. "Uh....what?" She finally asked after a few seconds of silence, before she heard someone shout thief. She checked her coin purse for no reason, before looking back up at the guy who stopped her. "Hurry up kid, I don't have all day."
Mach1ne_H3ad
mention:
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
mention:
SecretRock
CrimsonEclipse
The One and Only
GRIN
In the middle of the crowd, among the throngs of people going about their own businesses, a girl walked among them. She was a nondescript girl, plain face, plain body, and plain clothes. There was nothing striking nor unique about her entirety, she was just a face among the crowd, a nobody among nobodies. She was the kind of person that blends into the crowd, a person so unremarkable that she would be invisible amongst a crowd of people.
A person bumped into her as it ran, a coin purse clutched in hand. It was soon followed by a person screaming about a thief, which was of course followed by people securing their own belongings rather than help the poor girl. Of course, Grin didn't make a move. She had no reason to, just like all the other people on this crowd. It had no relation to her and she would rather not get involved in things that does not pay off. And so she watched as the thief ran away.
Grin continued to move along, her destination in mind. As she walked, she passed by a curious man in white robes. The man was calling out to capable young men and women to join the Majai Knights. This brought out a smirk from the girl. "How curious." She muttered as she move along. A secretive order of knights, recruiting out in the open? How amusing. Either this man was a fraud or the Majai Knights are desperate enough to shed their previous secrecy. Both sounds equally amusing to her. She would definitely take notice of this.
Finally, Grin arrived at her inn. Grin gave the innkeeper a quick nod as she entered the room. Grin wasted no time shedding her current clothes. She changed into her usual, signature clothing, a jester's outfit colored black and red. Grin pulled out her famous mask, and a wide grin resembling the mask's spread on her face. Finally, months, years, even decades of work, finally coming to an end.
"Now ends their turn." She said as she placed her mask on her face." From here on, Grin takes center stage."
(Grin will start interacting once the Majai meetup starts)
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Captain Gabriel
Three Thousand Club
The next day at noon...
???
Location: Imperial Palace's Front Gate
It was finally time for the meeting to take place. A large crowd of people had gathered around but there was no sign of a formal recruitment from the army. The people in the crowd got more and more confused over time, "Where's Flamel?" Most of them said out loud. Many already started to leave but suddenly, a voice erupted. "DON'T GO!" The voice yelled. It was a man clad in white armor with a poorly drawn M on his chest piece. The crowd looked at him and stopped everything they were doing to look at him. "Uhm..." The armored man said after looking at the crowd for a couple of seconds. It looked like he dozed off for a split second. He looked at himself and then back at the crowd, "What am I doing here?" He said, taking off his armor and helmet, running off. The people in the crowd all sighed in unison and began walking off.
However, a woman with brown hair and very light skin was sitting onto the grass of the small oasis in front of the gate, looking at the scene. She identified a couple of people in the crowd...A cocky-looking bard, a dark-skinned Satyr, (surprisingly) a Marshal of the Imperial Army, a tribesman, a white knight, a hairy-looking woman and another dark-skinned woman that looked like she was going to explode in a ball of fire any moment. She got up and pulled up her hood, walking confidently towards them.
"Can I please speak to you, in private?" She asked each one of them, just to then lead them to a secluded alley where they wouldn't be seen. She kept her hood on to hide her face and began talking.
"The Majai recruitment was a big hoax and I am very, deeply sorry that I have stolen your time, but I am desperate for help!" She began explaining, keeping her hands together in front of her belly.
"Seth. The Dark Lord...He's returning." She spoke while fiddling her thumbs.
"I am sure of it! But...The Empire won't believe me." She kept on talking, walking back and forth as she spoke.
"They just...won't listen to me! I need to gather proof and...I humbly ask for your help." She then finally requested, bowing her upper body down in respect and shame, waiting for their answer before raising her head back up.
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Alteras
Archdemon
Birdsie
???
Location: Imperial Palace's Front Gate
It was finally time for the meeting to take place. A large crowd of people had gathered around but there was no sign of a formal recruitment from the army. The people in the crowd got more and more confused over time, "Where's Flamel?" Most of them said out loud. Many already started to leave but suddenly, a voice erupted. "DON'T GO!" The voice yelled. It was a man clad in white armor with a poorly drawn M on his chest piece. The crowd looked at him and stopped everything they were doing to look at him. "Uhm..." The armored man said after looking at the crowd for a couple of seconds. It looked like he dozed off for a split second. He looked at himself and then back at the crowd, "What am I doing here?" He said, taking off his armor and helmet, running off. The people in the crowd all sighed in unison and began walking off.
However, a woman with brown hair and very light skin was sitting onto the grass of the small oasis in front of the gate, looking at the scene. She identified a couple of people in the crowd...A cocky-looking bard, a dark-skinned Satyr, (surprisingly) a Marshal of the Imperial Army, a tribesman, a white knight, a hairy-looking woman and another dark-skinned woman that looked like she was going to explode in a ball of fire any moment. She got up and pulled up her hood, walking confidently towards them.
"Can I please speak to you, in private?" She asked each one of them, just to then lead them to a secluded alley where they wouldn't be seen. She kept her hood on to hide her face and began talking.
"The Majai recruitment was a big hoax and I am very, deeply sorry that I have stolen your time, but I am desperate for help!" She began explaining, keeping her hands together in front of her belly.
"Seth. The Dark Lord...He's returning." She spoke while fiddling her thumbs.
"I am sure of it! But...The Empire won't believe me." She kept on talking, walking back and forth as she spoke.
"They just...won't listen to me! I need to gather proof and...I humbly ask for your help." She then finally requested, bowing her upper body down in respect and shame, waiting for their answer before raising her head back up.
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Alteras
Archdemon
Birdsie
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FireMaiden
Grade A Bitch
(Hey, Amélie isn't hairy. She has normal hair in her human form. It's her eyes that give her away.)
Like many others, she showed up at the palace right on time. And like many others, she grew impatient with wiating. She started to wonder why had they even said noon if they weren't going to show up? Amélie scoffed, "This was a waste of time," She murmured, running a hand through her hair, brushing her bangs out of her face. But before she left, a man ran up on the dtage infront of the restless crowd. "Finally," she said, turinf her attention back...onky to have her hopes dashed. What the helll was that, she wondered, watchinf him leave with a mixture of annoyance and confusion on her face. Amelie had better things to do than wait around for some one who looked like they weren't gonna show. It seemed like the people in the crowd had just about the same reaction as herself. That was, until a woman who she previously hadn't noticed approached her and the few people around her. She asked them to follow, and Amélie wasn't going to, but soemthing seemed to be troubling her. So, Amélie followed. Turns out the recruitment was a hoax, and this was the girl behind it. She was pacing, seemingly more nervous than before as she started to explain about why she faked it. Amélie scoffed, "So, you created a mob of angry men in what seems to be a convoluted plan when you could have gone to any tavern or guild?" The werewolf asked, cocking her eyebrow and crossing her arms. Her mention of Seth had her a little intrigued though. He lead a rebellion which started a war for a good cause, but it just ended up making things worse for the non-human/elves. "How about you tell us who you are first? Or better yet, why you're so sure?"
Captain Gabriel
Like many others, she showed up at the palace right on time. And like many others, she grew impatient with wiating. She started to wonder why had they even said noon if they weren't going to show up? Amélie scoffed, "This was a waste of time," She murmured, running a hand through her hair, brushing her bangs out of her face. But before she left, a man ran up on the dtage infront of the restless crowd. "Finally," she said, turinf her attention back...onky to have her hopes dashed. What the helll was that, she wondered, watchinf him leave with a mixture of annoyance and confusion on her face. Amelie had better things to do than wait around for some one who looked like they weren't gonna show. It seemed like the people in the crowd had just about the same reaction as herself. That was, until a woman who she previously hadn't noticed approached her and the few people around her. She asked them to follow, and Amélie wasn't going to, but soemthing seemed to be troubling her. So, Amélie followed. Turns out the recruitment was a hoax, and this was the girl behind it. She was pacing, seemingly more nervous than before as she started to explain about why she faked it. Amélie scoffed, "So, you created a mob of angry men in what seems to be a convoluted plan when you could have gone to any tavern or guild?" The werewolf asked, cocking her eyebrow and crossing her arms. Her mention of Seth had her a little intrigued though. He lead a rebellion which started a war for a good cause, but it just ended up making things worse for the non-human/elves. "How about you tell us who you are first? Or better yet, why you're so sure?"
Captain Gabriel
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Alteras
The Sleepy Prisoner
Jabel Vazeran
Imperial Palace > secluded alleyway
Jabel had her arms crossed. Her saber hanging by her side. The walk yesterday didn't provide any information, and the lieutenant ended up having a hang over from all the alcohol he consumed at the taverns, asking about the impostor. So she was here alone. She could've gotten someone from the other departments to help her, but she didn't want to raise any unneeded suspicions.
As she had known, it was a hoax, but this woman who gathered this group of people still seems intent on creating a party. She stood with all her discipline, letting out cold air around them, contrasted against the hot summer sky. "Come on, speak up. You have the attention of an Imperial Marshal."
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Captain Gabriel
Archdemon
Birdsie
Imperial Palace > secluded alleyway
Jabel had her arms crossed. Her saber hanging by her side. The walk yesterday didn't provide any information, and the lieutenant ended up having a hang over from all the alcohol he consumed at the taverns, asking about the impostor. So she was here alone. She could've gotten someone from the other departments to help her, but she didn't want to raise any unneeded suspicions.
As she had known, it was a hoax, but this woman who gathered this group of people still seems intent on creating a party. She stood with all her discipline, letting out cold air around them, contrasted against the hot summer sky. "Come on, speak up. You have the attention of an Imperial Marshal."
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Captain Gabriel
Archdemon
Birdsie
Troldmand
Your Bizarre Acquaintance
Adryen:
Inn on one of the streets. Later the gates of the Imperial Palace.
Adryen's noon was going much smoother, in a decent room with a single stained window in one of the local inns on the street not so far away from the gates leading to the revered Imperial Palace. His surprisingly blissful slumber was mannerlessly interrupted by a hooded figure standing next to the door and facing the smuggler, awaiting him to come to his senses. To his senses he did come, now staring furiously at the hooded figure slowly taking shape once he rubbed his eyes. The figure turned out to be a suspiciously-looking mercenary, most likely yet another cutthroat serving yet another master. Those were the most common messengers seen by smugglers akin Adryen.
"The hell are ye up to?" exclaimed Adryen, throwing the blanket that covered him away in confusion intermixed with anger.
"Trademaster is interested in your services, smuggler," said the mercenary before pointing his finger on the sealed letter lying on the shelf beside the rented bed,
"The letter will speak for me."
Adryen instantly shifted his confused gaze onto the letter that indeed laid on the shelf with a lilac seal authenticating it. While he did wish to bid farewell to the trading company once and for all at some point in time, his head seemed much more valuable to him than his taste in clients he makes deals with at that very moment. He cursed, then took the letter, taking the seal off and unfolding it before he gave it a thorough read.
His confusion was replaced by utter shock and disbelief, and his eyes widened as he stared back at the mercenary. He had almost considered the contents of the letter to be nonsense written by some wealthy drunkard serving the company and then sent to him for no reason until he remembered who the author of the letter was.
"Trademaster would have no reason to write lies, am I right?" smuggler asked the mercenary, worried and thrilled at the same time.
"I've got no clue, but a lad of his status wouldn't spit out gibberish," confessed the hooded man, his face expressionless. "Yes or no?"
No. Adryen yearned to refuse the unrefutable offer at first, recalling the last years of bloodshed and their questionable consequences. But then, an obscure feeling hit the poor smuggler. He felt an unexplainable urge to help the merchant, to help the denizens of this city and perhaps the known world in its entirety. He knew this was a truly fateful decision. His chance to rid himself of his crimes and -- more importantly -- gain a purpose he has been looking for nearly all his seemingly pointless life. Years ago, Seth was given the powers beyond anything humans could hope for, yet he was defeated once stripped of these powers. What mortal knows what destiny desires this time, if the merchant tells the truth? He might prevail and he might perish, but at the very least he will gain a purpose, he will not fade away without a song or two sung about him. Perhaps he is not destined to unveil his past, but his future will sure as hell not be pale.
"I don't have a choice, do I?" he said, putting the letter away and facing the hooded man once more.
The man smiled for the first time knowing the situation his conversant was in. He shook his head, confirming Adryen's suspicions.
"To hell with the fish, to hell with the crabs," said Adryen boldly, standing up and putting on his jacket and sword belt. "I've been waiting for a chance like this all my worthless life," he took the letter and returned it to the mercenary. "And I won't miss it."
Adryen was turning the doorknob when the mercenary suddenly grabbed his hand, looking in the eyes of the refreshed smuggler. The look was a serious one.
"You don't tell anyone 'bout this, or I'll rip your tongue off and feed it to the crabs you catch. Point made?" asked the hooded man, waiting for the answer.
"Point made" Adryen answered and the man let go of the smuggler, disappearing in the hallways the moment he left the room. Adryen, on the other hand, left the inn with a sense of purpose, ready to fulfil his destnity. Or so he thought.
It didn't take him long to arrive at the gates where the woman the letter spoke of was asking for help to prevent a great threat from harming the world again. He, however, refrained from approaching the crowd instead pretending to be a dweller passing by. He would've approached the woman directly if not for the uncertainty he felt.
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Captain Gabriel
Archdemon
Birdsie
Inn on one of the streets. Later the gates of the Imperial Palace.
Adryen's noon was going much smoother, in a decent room with a single stained window in one of the local inns on the street not so far away from the gates leading to the revered Imperial Palace. His surprisingly blissful slumber was mannerlessly interrupted by a hooded figure standing next to the door and facing the smuggler, awaiting him to come to his senses. To his senses he did come, now staring furiously at the hooded figure slowly taking shape once he rubbed his eyes. The figure turned out to be a suspiciously-looking mercenary, most likely yet another cutthroat serving yet another master. Those were the most common messengers seen by smugglers akin Adryen.
"The hell are ye up to?" exclaimed Adryen, throwing the blanket that covered him away in confusion intermixed with anger.
"Trademaster is interested in your services, smuggler," said the mercenary before pointing his finger on the sealed letter lying on the shelf beside the rented bed,
"The letter will speak for me."
Adryen instantly shifted his confused gaze onto the letter that indeed laid on the shelf with a lilac seal authenticating it. While he did wish to bid farewell to the trading company once and for all at some point in time, his head seemed much more valuable to him than his taste in clients he makes deals with at that very moment. He cursed, then took the letter, taking the seal off and unfolding it before he gave it a thorough read.
His confusion was replaced by utter shock and disbelief, and his eyes widened as he stared back at the mercenary. He had almost considered the contents of the letter to be nonsense written by some wealthy drunkard serving the company and then sent to him for no reason until he remembered who the author of the letter was.
"Trademaster would have no reason to write lies, am I right?" smuggler asked the mercenary, worried and thrilled at the same time.
"I've got no clue, but a lad of his status wouldn't spit out gibberish," confessed the hooded man, his face expressionless. "Yes or no?"
No. Adryen yearned to refuse the unrefutable offer at first, recalling the last years of bloodshed and their questionable consequences. But then, an obscure feeling hit the poor smuggler. He felt an unexplainable urge to help the merchant, to help the denizens of this city and perhaps the known world in its entirety. He knew this was a truly fateful decision. His chance to rid himself of his crimes and -- more importantly -- gain a purpose he has been looking for nearly all his seemingly pointless life. Years ago, Seth was given the powers beyond anything humans could hope for, yet he was defeated once stripped of these powers. What mortal knows what destiny desires this time, if the merchant tells the truth? He might prevail and he might perish, but at the very least he will gain a purpose, he will not fade away without a song or two sung about him. Perhaps he is not destined to unveil his past, but his future will sure as hell not be pale.
"I don't have a choice, do I?" he said, putting the letter away and facing the hooded man once more.
The man smiled for the first time knowing the situation his conversant was in. He shook his head, confirming Adryen's suspicions.
"To hell with the fish, to hell with the crabs," said Adryen boldly, standing up and putting on his jacket and sword belt. "I've been waiting for a chance like this all my worthless life," he took the letter and returned it to the mercenary. "And I won't miss it."
Adryen was turning the doorknob when the mercenary suddenly grabbed his hand, looking in the eyes of the refreshed smuggler. The look was a serious one.
"You don't tell anyone 'bout this, or I'll rip your tongue off and feed it to the crabs you catch. Point made?" asked the hooded man, waiting for the answer.
"Point made" Adryen answered and the man let go of the smuggler, disappearing in the hallways the moment he left the room. Adryen, on the other hand, left the inn with a sense of purpose, ready to fulfil his destnity. Or so he thought.
It didn't take him long to arrive at the gates where the woman the letter spoke of was asking for help to prevent a great threat from harming the world again. He, however, refrained from approaching the crowd instead pretending to be a dweller passing by. He would've approached the woman directly if not for the uncertainty he felt.
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Captain Gabriel
Archdemon
Birdsie
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Mach1ne_H3ad
(sucks)
Sigvald immediately felt distaste towards the woman in front of him. He hated it when people groveled in front of him. It was desperate and weak. The men and women around him, however, were a far more interesting lot. He noticed the woman who had blown him off after the call to arms yesterday among them. He still wished to know more about her bestial heritage, but she had seemed too angry and pissed off for him to talk to yesterday. There was also a satyr, which was rare for these parts. There did seem to be a lot of demihumans around today. He spied a couple of knightly-looking people. On his travels, he had frequently helped local knights and militias fend off monsters. They were good duelists when the target was the same size, but they lacked the technique or experience for hunting down much larger quarry.
As for the subject of this particular job, he found himself unfamiliar with the target. Before he could ask who Seth was or why he should care, however, several other members of the congregation blurted out their questions all at once. He supposed for the time being he would stick around and hear this one out. At the very least, he would probably get an interesting lead.
As for the subject of this particular job, he found himself unfamiliar with the target. Before he could ask who Seth was or why he should care, however, several other members of the congregation blurted out their questions all at once. He supposed for the time being he would stick around and hear this one out. At the very least, he would probably get an interesting lead.
SecretRock
The Leader of the Pantheon
Jausi
Turning up to the meting the next day was half accidental. Jausi had meant to go, but she'd forgotten where the man had said to meet. Obviously, the solution was to wander the city until she found the group at the Palace's front gate. They were already heckling the leaving man so something had happened. Several people pushed past her as she stared in mild confusion. When the brunette woman asked for a private word, Jausi was shocked. She'd expected her to do the same. Hoping for answers, Jausi followed her.The group was odd, even by her standards. Knights and bards and at least one other woman she was sure wasn't human. Rare in cities. The woman talking to them was even more intriguing, though. She was skilled enough to trick people into thinking the Majai Knights were recruiting (whether through magic or stage acting) but she was asking for their help. Jausi had two main questions: why couldn't she do it herself? And why them? Were they just the least shocked at the trickery? Could she somehow see things about them? That would be interesting. Jausi tuned back into the conversation, taking a second to get her bearings.
"I would mainly like to sssecond beast lady's questions," She informed the brunette woman.
Ms. Sparrow
Queen of SHIIIPS
Sadima & Caspen
Location: Peterova Manor
Sadima grabbed both of her weapons from the wardrobe. "So do we bring weapons to these things?" She asked, not glancing back at Caspen as she slinged her weapon unto her back, admiring herself in the mirror.
Caspen took a sip of ale from his glass, sitting behind his desk, he threw up his hands in an irritated gesture, "Why are you even going to this recruitment thing anyway?"
Sadima began to attach the silver pieces of her armor on. "It's only fitting. I did see the very early Majai, remember?" Sadima smirked.
"I think it's best if we don't draw attention to ourselves." Caspen argued, taking another sip of his drink.
"So you should stay here. I'll see to it your little girlfriend has a good time if she decides to attend." Sadima said smugly, glancing back at Caspen through the mirror she watched him chug the rest of his drink down. "My goodness. I've driven you to drink." She stated in mock surprise.
"Can't seem to rid myself of you." Caspen muttered. "How else am I supposed to go about living my life?" Caspen said as he stood up and walked over to the ale cabinet, grabbing another bottle to pour himself another glass.
Sadima scoffed. "Go about living my life." She mimimicked Caspen in a snob tone. "See, therein lies your eternal struggle. You're dead, dude. Get over it."
Caspen bit his tongue. He'd been trying to live a human life, feeding on animals and blending in with society. Trying to change her evil way.
Sadima smirked at herself in the mirror. "It's cool not growing old. I like being the eternal stud." She said smugly tidying up her armor and admiring herself in the mirror.
Caspen raised his glass sarcastically, "Yes, being a one-thousand-year-old teenager has been the height of my happiness." He said sarcastically, but a small hint in his tone could almost say he was joking. Sadima raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"You cracked a funny, Caspen. I should have a drink to celebrate." Sadima said as she walked over to the freshly opened ale bottle, and quite expensive ale at that. She poured herself a glass and raised it. "Here's to history repeating itself, huh?" She said before she began to raise the glass to her lips and just as the liquid almost touched her lips she dumped it right on the floor.
She sighed. "I admire your effort, Caspen. Pouring yourself a drink then spiking it with vervain. I'm not done tavern wench you can't drug me. But I can't help but feel a little used. I thought we were having a moment. Now I have to go to the recruitment angry. Who knows what I'll do." Sadima straightened her armor and turned and walked away, leaving Caspen alone in his bedroom. Sadima walked out the door and smirked.
Time to see what the Majai had turned itself into after all these years.
Interaction: None
Mentioned: None
Location: Peterova Manor
Sadima grabbed both of her weapons from the wardrobe. "So do we bring weapons to these things?" She asked, not glancing back at Caspen as she slinged her weapon unto her back, admiring herself in the mirror.
Caspen took a sip of ale from his glass, sitting behind his desk, he threw up his hands in an irritated gesture, "Why are you even going to this recruitment thing anyway?"
Sadima began to attach the silver pieces of her armor on. "It's only fitting. I did see the very early Majai, remember?" Sadima smirked.
"I think it's best if we don't draw attention to ourselves." Caspen argued, taking another sip of his drink.
"So you should stay here. I'll see to it your little girlfriend has a good time if she decides to attend." Sadima said smugly, glancing back at Caspen through the mirror she watched him chug the rest of his drink down. "My goodness. I've driven you to drink." She stated in mock surprise.
"Can't seem to rid myself of you." Caspen muttered. "How else am I supposed to go about living my life?" Caspen said as he stood up and walked over to the ale cabinet, grabbing another bottle to pour himself another glass.
Sadima scoffed. "Go about living my life." She mimimicked Caspen in a snob tone. "See, therein lies your eternal struggle. You're dead, dude. Get over it."
Caspen bit his tongue. He'd been trying to live a human life, feeding on animals and blending in with society. Trying to change her evil way.
Sadima smirked at herself in the mirror. "It's cool not growing old. I like being the eternal stud." She said smugly tidying up her armor and admiring herself in the mirror.
Caspen raised his glass sarcastically, "Yes, being a one-thousand-year-old teenager has been the height of my happiness." He said sarcastically, but a small hint in his tone could almost say he was joking. Sadima raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"You cracked a funny, Caspen. I should have a drink to celebrate." Sadima said as she walked over to the freshly opened ale bottle, and quite expensive ale at that. She poured herself a glass and raised it. "Here's to history repeating itself, huh?" She said before she began to raise the glass to her lips and just as the liquid almost touched her lips she dumped it right on the floor.
She sighed. "I admire your effort, Caspen. Pouring yourself a drink then spiking it with vervain. I'm not done tavern wench you can't drug me. But I can't help but feel a little used. I thought we were having a moment. Now I have to go to the recruitment angry. Who knows what I'll do." Sadima straightened her armor and turned and walked away, leaving Caspen alone in his bedroom. Sadima walked out the door and smirked.
Time to see what the Majai had turned itself into after all these years.
Interaction: None
Mentioned: None
Archdemon
Some random dude on the Internet
Diarmid
Location: Palace gates -------> Suspicious Alley
Day Before:
The Bard was just about to pickpocket another person until someone yelled Thief. He quickly pulled his hand away and immediately began checking to make sure his pouch was there. Obviously it was but this made him less suspicious, still though he made quite a bit. He left the palace area and wandered off to have more fun. Well by fun he means probably sleeping with another girl for the night.
Current Day:
Diarmid walked to the gates of the palace, more or less looking for a way to steal more stuff. Suddenly something happened while The Bard was busy picking something up so he missed what happened. But some person came up to him and told him they wanted to speak to him. Diarmid decided to amuse the person but made sure his Dirk was within killing distance. Soon he found that others were with him, like that weird giant lady, some other chick who was fucking cold to even be around. He stayed as far away from her as he could. Then the person before him spoke, saying they needed their help and that Seth was returning. Everybody asked an ok question, but Diarmid only had one question on his mind...
"You need my help? Well I wanna know what I get out of this, because I'm not doing this for free. And since you need my help against Seth... I'm gonna need a pretty enticing offer."
Diarmid didn't care, he just wanted to be paid really. And he didn't care if he was doing things for good and evil, as long as the pay was good and that nobody fucked with him, he'd be your friend all day.
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Alteras
Archdemon
Birdsie
CrimsonEclipse
The One and Only
GRIN
As the crowd formed in front of the Imperial Palace awaiting for the alleged Majai Commander-In-Chief, Grin looked over them from her vantage point atop a nearby building. While not exactly hidden, people rarely look up unless someone points something out, again something unlikely. The masked jester watched along as the crowds unrest and dissatisfaction grew while waiting for the Majai Knight. This reached the boiling point when a man wearing an armor called out to the crowd. Instead of doing what the crowd expected, the man instead seemed to have no idea why he was there. The poor man was heckled by the understandably annoyed crowd, but Grin wasn't here for that.
Grin looked away from the angry crowd and looked toward the gate of the palace. There sits a beautiful woman who called out to a few specific people, a few of them very noticeable and some not so much. No matter who they may be, Grin knew that this was what she was looking for. In an instant, Grin descended from the roof of the building. Before she reached the ground however, the masked jester vanished in thin air. When she appeared once more, she appeared in between the strange woman and the people she had selected.
"Greetings! Lorainne S. Grindewlad, at your service!" Grin happily announced as she flamboyantly bowed and flourished her hand. "Though I would dearly be pleased should you refer to me as Grin. A traveling Jester, wandering performer, and the occasional exterminator." Grin enthusiastically said as she face the woman and her little posse. "I can't help but over hear your little conversation, and I would happily offer my services up for hire!"
Captain Gabriel
FireMaiden
Archdemon
SecretRock
Troldmand
Mach1ne_H3ad
Alteras
Birdsie
Troldmand
Your Bizarre Acquaintance
Adryen reckoned it was a perfect opportunity to find a spot around the woman asking the ones she believed are capable and hopefully be allowed to join whatever party she was gathering to battle an ever-growing threat far away, waiting for a perfect time to rebel once more and strike the men down as it had tried years ago.
For the first time in many years of smuggling, he experienced discomfort and uncertainty while participating in business less ordinary than what he had to go through. This feeling indeed confirmed that Adryen now had a true purpose, no matter the person he works for. He knew what could happen in the near future and realised the importance of the events that may take place. The future was about to gain new colours.
"I've heard the rumours," said the smuggler and stepped closer to the company, overlooking each one of them. He was surprised to witness non-human dwellers among the crowd, recalling the past events. They fought under Seth's banners not so long ago, why would they join the ones they took up arms against, especially when Seth is rising again? "Ye're tryin' to stop Him. That madman Seth," he looked at that woman. "And I'm interested to learn more."
Captain Gabriel
For the first time in many years of smuggling, he experienced discomfort and uncertainty while participating in business less ordinary than what he had to go through. This feeling indeed confirmed that Adryen now had a true purpose, no matter the person he works for. He knew what could happen in the near future and realised the importance of the events that may take place. The future was about to gain new colours.
"I've heard the rumours," said the smuggler and stepped closer to the company, overlooking each one of them. He was surprised to witness non-human dwellers among the crowd, recalling the past events. They fought under Seth's banners not so long ago, why would they join the ones they took up arms against, especially when Seth is rising again? "Ye're tryin' to stop Him. That madman Seth," he looked at that woman. "And I'm interested to learn more."
Captain Gabriel
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Captain Gabriel
Three Thousand Club
???
Location: Imperial Palace's Front Gate
The girl looked at each and every one of the people in front of her. "I do believe I owe you some explanations..." She spoke, slowly taking off her hood. As soon as she did, a wave of intense emotions filled their hearts and bodies. The feeling was similar to standing very close to a comfortingly warm fireplace, but the comfort part of it multiplied tenfold. A girl with brown hair and red eyes stood before them, with black ribbons holding up her two twin ponytails. She wore gold jewelry and various golden ornaments, but what stood out was her necklace and the belt wrapped around her upper waist that had a red jewel encased into it.
"My name is Iris Criphtar. I am the daughter of the All-Loving God of Life..." She explained, bowing her head at the men and women in front of her once more, only to raise it again.
"Marshal, I have seen with my own eyes small groups of dark sorcerers attack villages and kidnap every single child for who knows what." She said once again, looking at her in the eyes,
"I have spoken with the Imperial Advisors! The Advisors! They don't listen to me!" She exclaimed in pure disbelief as if the fact had just happened. She looked at the Marshal and sighed in disappointment, "I already have a plan...I'll just need you to help me with it." She ended her monologue once more, smiling warmly at the group. And with warmly, I mean that it'd melt every man and woman's heart.
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Alteras
Archdemon
Birdsie
Location: Imperial Palace's Front Gate
The girl looked at each and every one of the people in front of her. "I do believe I owe you some explanations..." She spoke, slowly taking off her hood. As soon as she did, a wave of intense emotions filled their hearts and bodies. The feeling was similar to standing very close to a comfortingly warm fireplace, but the comfort part of it multiplied tenfold. A girl with brown hair and red eyes stood before them, with black ribbons holding up her two twin ponytails. She wore gold jewelry and various golden ornaments, but what stood out was her necklace and the belt wrapped around her upper waist that had a red jewel encased into it.
"Marshal, I have seen with my own eyes small groups of dark sorcerers attack villages and kidnap every single child for who knows what." She said once again, looking at her in the eyes,
"I have spoken with the Imperial Advisors! The Advisors! They don't listen to me!" She exclaimed in pure disbelief as if the fact had just happened. She looked at the Marshal and sighed in disappointment, "I already have a plan...I'll just need you to help me with it." She ended her monologue once more, smiling warmly at the group. And with warmly, I mean that it'd melt every man and woman's heart.
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Alteras
Archdemon
Birdsie
Avari
Four Thousand Club
Imperial Palace
Academy Training Grounds
Lucrezia Whitefall did not like wasting her time. She liked dealing with fools even less, and somehow today she was doing both.
“Your blade is not some foreign implement to be wielded like a warhammer!” She sighed, pulling the beaten and bruised recruit to his feet for what felt like the thousandth time. He was young, and looked a little too small for his uniform.
“-It is an extension of your very being. It is a part of you. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, my lady.” He stammered, quickly bending back down to scoop up his wooden training sword. To his credit, he hadn’t yet begged to stop - they usually did by now, so that was ...something at least.
“This time Recruit Alistair, strike with finesse - not like you’re carving up a slab of meat. Flow like water.”
Alistair nodded, his face scrunched in determination as he moved back into the center of the Academy arena to face her again. She watched him adjust his hold on his sword, and gave him a curt nod of approval with what she saw.
“Good. Now - again,”
Alistair launched forward with surprising speed for one who was clearly so exhausted. Lucrezia didn’t parry, but sidestepped out the way to give Alistair the opportunity to attempt to land another strike. The man gave a grunt as he slashed again, only to be blocked easily by her own wooden sword. Alistair bared his teeth as he pushed against her blade, and then found himself falling to the ground once again. He landed face first this time, planting straight into the dusty arena. Alistair gave a snarl of frustration as he went to climb back to his feet, only to find Lucrezia’s blade at his neck.
He looked up at her, totally defeated. She didn’t even seem to have a single golden hair out of place, and her dark crimson eyes watched him with a bored expression.
“Why can’t I hit you...?” He managed to gasp.
“Because my lessons do not seem to sink in with you,”
Alistair seemed to physically wilt at that. Gods, even torturing the boy lacked any sort of fun. Lucrezia considered the defeated looking boy for a moment, his dark grey uniform juxtaposed with her own pearl white. They had been training for almost an hour now, and Lucrezia knew she had precious little time before other matters grabbed her attention. “Training” the new recruits was a little hobby of hers and it was always rather amusing to see the enthusiasm of newcomers - excited to train with the White Knight herself - quickly dim as they realized she had no intentions of going easy on them. The more senior recruits usually referred to her training as the “Beatdown”.
She was harsh on the recruits, it was true. Jabel had told her several times that bruised and broken soldiers were no good to anyone, but Lucrezia expected perfection - because that was what was expected her.
And to many, she was exactly that. Her hair - short, golden blonde - always seemed perfectly styled with not a single hair out of place, despite her daily weapons training. Her skin was without a blemish, which had spawned many dull conversations with over-curious nobles who demanded to know her skincare regime. They never seemed to believe her when she explained she just used water. Her pearl white armor and cape - unique to her - always seemed to practically glow flawlessly and every movement she made seemed to be precise and considered.
Looking down at Alistair, she wondered for a moment why she even bothered with it, but then sighed as she saw the numerous bruises he had endured during their sparring. He had stood his ground at least, and that was worth a reward in and on itself.
“You tense up before you attempt to strike. You telegraph your attacks, and your application of excessive force can be controlled through fluid motion.” She informed him briskly, as she finally removed her blade from his throat and he began to climb to his feet, gasping. “You must be-”
“Like water,” he confirmed, and Lucrezia favored him with a nod at that. At least something was getting into that bony head of his.
“I expect so see improvements next time we spar, Alistair.” She said as she handed her own wooden sword to him to place back in the rack with the others.
“Y-yes, my lady.”
Lucrezia turned on her heels and made her way out of the training grounds, grabbing her blade - Rakuyo - as she did so and placing it back in its scabbard. She was about to leave, when Alistair appeared behind her looking slightly sheepish. She rose an eyebrow at him.
“Yes?”
“Begging your pardon, my lady. Lot of the lads down in the barracks wanted to know about that Flamel stuff that’s going on...”
Lucrezia considered for a moment. Jabel was already handling the situation, though Lucrezia had made a point of ensuring she was close by if anything should happen. Crowds were unruly things at the best of times.
“I'm afraid you won't be joining the Majai today, Alistair,” Lucrezia replied tartly, as she began to walk away.
-and hopefully you'll never need to. she finished the sentence in her head.
Academy Training Grounds
Lucrezia Whitefall did not like wasting her time. She liked dealing with fools even less, and somehow today she was doing both.
“Your blade is not some foreign implement to be wielded like a warhammer!” She sighed, pulling the beaten and bruised recruit to his feet for what felt like the thousandth time. He was young, and looked a little too small for his uniform.
“-It is an extension of your very being. It is a part of you. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, my lady.” He stammered, quickly bending back down to scoop up his wooden training sword. To his credit, he hadn’t yet begged to stop - they usually did by now, so that was ...something at least.
“This time Recruit Alistair, strike with finesse - not like you’re carving up a slab of meat. Flow like water.”
Alistair nodded, his face scrunched in determination as he moved back into the center of the Academy arena to face her again. She watched him adjust his hold on his sword, and gave him a curt nod of approval with what she saw.
“Good. Now - again,”
Alistair launched forward with surprising speed for one who was clearly so exhausted. Lucrezia didn’t parry, but sidestepped out the way to give Alistair the opportunity to attempt to land another strike. The man gave a grunt as he slashed again, only to be blocked easily by her own wooden sword. Alistair bared his teeth as he pushed against her blade, and then found himself falling to the ground once again. He landed face first this time, planting straight into the dusty arena. Alistair gave a snarl of frustration as he went to climb back to his feet, only to find Lucrezia’s blade at his neck.
He looked up at her, totally defeated. She didn’t even seem to have a single golden hair out of place, and her dark crimson eyes watched him with a bored expression.
“Why can’t I hit you...?” He managed to gasp.
“Because my lessons do not seem to sink in with you,”
Alistair seemed to physically wilt at that. Gods, even torturing the boy lacked any sort of fun. Lucrezia considered the defeated looking boy for a moment, his dark grey uniform juxtaposed with her own pearl white. They had been training for almost an hour now, and Lucrezia knew she had precious little time before other matters grabbed her attention. “Training” the new recruits was a little hobby of hers and it was always rather amusing to see the enthusiasm of newcomers - excited to train with the White Knight herself - quickly dim as they realized she had no intentions of going easy on them. The more senior recruits usually referred to her training as the “Beatdown”.
She was harsh on the recruits, it was true. Jabel had told her several times that bruised and broken soldiers were no good to anyone, but Lucrezia expected perfection - because that was what was expected her.
And to many, she was exactly that. Her hair - short, golden blonde - always seemed perfectly styled with not a single hair out of place, despite her daily weapons training. Her skin was without a blemish, which had spawned many dull conversations with over-curious nobles who demanded to know her skincare regime. They never seemed to believe her when she explained she just used water. Her pearl white armor and cape - unique to her - always seemed to practically glow flawlessly and every movement she made seemed to be precise and considered.
Looking down at Alistair, she wondered for a moment why she even bothered with it, but then sighed as she saw the numerous bruises he had endured during their sparring. He had stood his ground at least, and that was worth a reward in and on itself.
“You tense up before you attempt to strike. You telegraph your attacks, and your application of excessive force can be controlled through fluid motion.” She informed him briskly, as she finally removed her blade from his throat and he began to climb to his feet, gasping. “You must be-”
“Like water,” he confirmed, and Lucrezia favored him with a nod at that. At least something was getting into that bony head of his.
“I expect so see improvements next time we spar, Alistair.” She said as she handed her own wooden sword to him to place back in the rack with the others.
“Y-yes, my lady.”
Lucrezia turned on her heels and made her way out of the training grounds, grabbing her blade - Rakuyo - as she did so and placing it back in its scabbard. She was about to leave, when Alistair appeared behind her looking slightly sheepish. She rose an eyebrow at him.
“Yes?”
“Begging your pardon, my lady. Lot of the lads down in the barracks wanted to know about that Flamel stuff that’s going on...”
Lucrezia considered for a moment. Jabel was already handling the situation, though Lucrezia had made a point of ensuring she was close by if anything should happen. Crowds were unruly things at the best of times.
“I'm afraid you won't be joining the Majai today, Alistair,” Lucrezia replied tartly, as she began to walk away.
-and hopefully you'll never need to. she finished the sentence in her head.
Alteras
The Sleepy Prisoner
Jabel Vazeran
Imperial Palace Front Gates
Jabel continued to stare at the self proclaimed daughter of a goddess. Well, she certainly dresses as one. In any case, Jabel put aside her suspicions about such an odd claim and focused on the meat of the plea. Necromancers... That's concerning... I haven't received any reports about that from the outlying villages, and the men there have all received training or at least have experience having fought Seth's Army. Wait, the bigger question to consider is why would the girl say this was Seth's army? Jabel let out a sigh due to the immense effort on the girl's end to smile. She could guess why the imperial advisors wouldn't listen to the girl, and she shouldn't either, and yet here she still stood. "What makes you think that these are Seth's troops? Not just some impostors?" Jabel looked at Iris for an answer.
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Captain Gabriel
Archdemon
Birdsie
Imperial Palace Front Gates
Jabel continued to stare at the self proclaimed daughter of a goddess. Well, she certainly dresses as one. In any case, Jabel put aside her suspicions about such an odd claim and focused on the meat of the plea. Necromancers... That's concerning... I haven't received any reports about that from the outlying villages, and the men there have all received training or at least have experience having fought Seth's Army. Wait, the bigger question to consider is why would the girl say this was Seth's army? Jabel let out a sigh due to the immense effort on the girl's end to smile. She could guess why the imperial advisors wouldn't listen to the girl, and she shouldn't either, and yet here she still stood. "What makes you think that these are Seth's troops? Not just some impostors?" Jabel looked at Iris for an answer.
CrimsonEclipse
FireMaiden
SecretRock
Mach1ne_H3ad
Troldmand
Captain Gabriel
Archdemon
Birdsie
