Erelos [Inactive]

[Esme]

Esme submitted a new role play:


Erelos - Welcome, young dreamers, to the World of Erelos.

"Welcome, travelers, to the world of Erelos.
My name is Gaea, the gate keeper and high escort of Erelos. I know you must have traveled far to find us, and I would like to offer you a peace of our life, if only for a brief stay, so you may rest before you continue on your journey.


Please, feel free to open your mind into the ways of our world, let yourself be reborn as one of us, and let our tales weave and intertwine with your own. We promise you peace from your war ridden life, a safe haven...

Read more about this role play...

 

[Esme]

Gonna use this a bump to keep this thing active.

 

[Esme]

In the gentle din of candle lights and fabric covered windows, seven older beings huddled around a small wood table. Each covered in a robe of colours that differed from the next, the first held a mixture of gold and brown, earthy almost. The next was shades of yellow and teal, perhaps beachy. The third was draped in blues and violets, oceanic in theme. To the left was one swallowed in magenta and cyan, a tidal sunset. Followed suit by reds and oranges, distinctly sunlike. The sixth was found in carmine and amber, a desert's blazing sun. At the head of them rested the smallest of the group, clad in simple white. It was this one who lead the procession long into the night.


"Have we found ourselves with suitable selections delivered?" The soft whisper light out. The flames danced on their candle wicks, chasing the shadows about. One by one answers called forth, a name for the main three,

"A woman named Eve,"


"A lad called Sythe,"


"And man going by Ari,"


"And of the inbetweens we find?"


"A child named Adam,"


"A lass called Grimm,"


"And a woman going by Minnie."

​

The smallest one nodded and drew up it's hood, and away from the table they drew. Six hoods went up and six candles out. Three days remained yet, a chance for survival, and what a grim thing to renew.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Shouts heaved out across the docks, the beaches full of life. This time, the land between Kavia and Yenne would host Mother Mai. From down in the water Yennites built support, creating the six bases tall. Above the water, along the shore, a festival was setting up. From bakers stands to circus tents, Erelosians came from far and wide. Aedenites were stocking ships for rent, and gathering clouds for childrens rides. Kavinites hung lights from trees, and set up caravans to hold supplies.


All along the strech of land was life. Excitement almost visible in the air. Children screamed and ran about, some people laughed, and others sung, but all were pitching in to create the next biggest Mother Mai Ceremony yet. As the platforms were raised to break the surface, Kavinites and Aedenites took over, decorating and building them tall and proud, six perfect pillars. Two echoed the land, two the sky, and two came forth from the sea, a representation of each of the honoured as they greeted the savior of their world.


More Aedens arrived from the sky, farther out on the edges Yennes appeared, and from the forests and plains around Kavias in the form of convoys came forth. As more arrived, it seemed only a matter of hours or another day before their six would come forth for their celebration.

 

[Nivrad00]

A caravan of several wagons rolled along a rough path, hidden under moonlight and silent except for the hooves of horses and the creaking of wheels. Despite the uneven terrain, all but one of the travelers were fast asleep, sprawled out on makeshift mattresses. Deep sleepers, the lot of them; a necessary trait for life on the open road.


Sythe Murkoff alone sat upright, watching the world pass by, legs dangling off the side of the wagon. The landscape was wild - tall grasses that, blending together in the moonlight, seemed to cover the ground with a endlessly rolling carpet. Reedy plants clustered both on the dirt road and off in the distance. Insects buzzed and chirped through the darkness. A crisp wind chilled the air.


Sythe felt the press of tiredness, but refrained from letting sleep overtake him. There was little time for privacy in a small space like this; only at night did he find himself isolated. It suited him better. It gave him time to think, or appreciate the scenery - things that, in his opinion, the traveling merchants he rode with were sorry to neglect. They were rather simple people, Sythe thought: noisy, uncultured, and easily content. Certainly not the type he would have associated with if he hadn't needed transportation to the Mother Mai Ceremony.


Craning his head, Sythe could see ahead to the forest they would soon enter. Past the woods, he understood, would be the seashore. A new place, full of new people, new traditions, and new landscapes. It was something different and refreshing, like fresh air after weeks of captivity - a feeling inspiring like nothing else. Though the merchants, after years on the job, seemed disinterested in the progress of the caravan, Sythe felt as if he could travel day by day and never tire of it.


If they kept a good pace, they would likely reach the Ceremony by the break of dawn. Full of anticipation, Sythe settled back to wait.

 

[Gypsy]

For a second, Eve closes her eyes as a cool breeze dances across her face. She walks along one of the moving wagons with one had pressed against it. She barely feels the cool dirt beneath her feet. It almost feels like she is wearing hard leather shoes even though her feet remain bare. She stands on her toes and tilts up her head as she walks, trying to see above the convoy. Even though she was relatively tall, it was difficult to see through the darkness, past the crowded wagons.


Eve slows her pace slightly until she stands behind the wagon. Carefully, she jumps onto the back of it, trying not to slow it down. After insuring her grip and balance, she climbs to the top. Crouching on the roof, she is able to see further into the distance. Nature's nightly symphony leaves her with a feeling of peace and serenity. Beyond the sounds of her surroundings, she hears the flowing waters of Yanne. She has felt compelled on a few occasions to visit. An urgency to travel beyond the waters, though, she wasn't quite sure why.


With a deep sigh, she turns around and lays on the wagon roof. She tugs on the him of her dress, straightening it out again. It was made of soft leathers colored in light browns and forest greens. A representation of her home. Her skin was decorated in black tribal markings that appeared to be some type of charcoal paint. Before leaving, she had taken great pride in making sure she was good representation of the Kavia lands.


Looking up at the night sky gives her a chance to be alone with her thoughts. An excitement stirs within her over the prospects of greeting Mother Mai, but something deeper within her felt broken. She places her hand over her heart as she tries to push back these emotions. Quickly, she shakes the thoughts from her mind. It was time to remain strong and brave. Nothing will keep her from the task at hand. With one more deep breath, her eyes slowly close and she drifts off to sleep.

 

[ErisianDialects]

Their latest caravaneer had arrived during the day. He was chained up, his hands and legs locked together. He hadn't slept since he'd heard he'd been selected, his nights were bad enough. He was a bundle of nerves, highly strung, his left eye constantly twitching.


He'd kept fiddling with the locks, He didn't want to be here. He'd seen the ceremony before, and it had blown his mind. Unfortunately, it was in a near literate sense. Something inside him had broken. He leaned down, chewing a little on the clawlike nail of his thumb, trying, and finally succeeding in getting the lock open.


A little bit of shifting and he would drop the chains that bound him, rolling out from underneath the wagon. He was being honoured, they'd said. He'd ardently argued he had no honour, so it was not his place, and to send anyone else.


Which is why he had run.


In fact, this was the third time he'd escaped his bindings on the trip to catch up to the others. Mostly because, well, he instinctively ran the other way. Crouched down low, he sniffed the air, his eye still twitching before he made a break for it, skirting firepits, light sources with a strange ease.


He'd made it from the caravan camp, when with a solid twang, his clawed foot snapped upwards, dragging his body up into the trees. He began to whimper loudly in the dark, like some kicked puppy. Apparently his slurs to his chaperones were wrong. They could learn.


AS his body whiplashed, caught like some prey, he began to plot how to get down from here, as he was repeatedly thrown against the tree by his momentum, a solid thud in the night like the beats of the drums that occassionally haunted his sleep.

 

[Nivrad00]

By the time the wagons emerged from the treeline, the day had already started. The vegetation and the canopy's shade disappeared. Sythe blinked and squinted, looking out at the sun-lit scene. Here it was: the festival, the destination. From the summit of the hill they had just emerged on, the view was panoramic. The shore and endless sea, staggering in its vastness - a sight, like all new sights, that Sythe couldn't tear his eyes from. It rolled and swelled constantly, the source the sound that they'd been hearing for hours now, but laboriously, as if it was enjoying a slow-paced day. Amidst the waves rose the six massive pillars he'd been told about. Those two - representative of Kavia. One of them was his.


To that backdrop scurried hundreds of busy figures, yelling and laughing. After reaching the bottom of the slope, the wagons slowly waded into the throng. Curious eyes peered into the doors, seeing the new arrivers. The travelling merchants joked and laughed boisterously from inside. Sythe stared out at the surroundings keenly, entranced by the various types of people present. This festival would be huge.


Sythe had never known why he was chosen to meet Mother Mai, but only now did he feel apprehension at being the center of attention. He was one of the lucky six. It was an exciting day.

 

[Esme]

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