Fantasy Fading Flames 2 Main RP

Kabboom · Dec 20, 2019

The fires of the Continent are fading.
Not because they are no longer needed, but because those who take up the mantle of the flame are dwindling in number.
Soon, there will be none left.

The Story So Far: The Continent was not always like this. Thousands of years ago, its inhabitants were plentiful and diverse, coexisting upon the land in their own individual ways: some sought power, and were willing to trample over others in their quest for it - others see themselves as harmonious beings, seeking wisdom in subservience - others, still, stood by as malicious outsiders, leering into the businesses of others. The Continent was never nameless, but simply never had one name: the elves living in the jungles named it Darr'at, Mother of Earth; the Giants nestled in the mountains called it Ghohhok, meaning Greatest Giant Below; many denizens with many names in many native tongues, most intriguing one of all being the humans, who adapted all these names.

Whether conscious or not, every being on this world feels its pull: The Light, or as simpler people call it, magic. Referred to as both, Light magic has aided the inhabitants of the Continent to achieve their aspirations and dreams, humans most of all. Through arduous effort, the humans ascended from being the most plentiful species on The Continent, to the most powerful on it. Fighting against the other races, and against their own, they founded the Empire of Light, encompassing most of the land they knew, from the western coastline, all the way to the eastern fringes. Humans were there, anywhere you went - from the harsh desert wasteland to the South, home to the hardy folk of the Firescape and the archipelagoes dotting at its southernmost end, to the harsh fringes of the North, where Sarmanians forge their home in thick ice and perilous cold, all the way to the fair isles of Regalia beyond the Sarmanians.

A large wide land like this is not without conflict, however: though they have taken the West side as their home, no denizen of Light murmured about what they would encounter to the East. Boundless, endless beings of darkness and destruction, their bestial bodies and crude armaments forged from pure Darkness, the very opposite of the Light, flooded into the realm of the Empire, slaying all who came near them. No one could negotiate with them, nor hide from them, for they seem to exist solely to destroy, and their Darkness allows them to seek out all the Light denizens wherever they may hide. This scourge was most dire, to say the least.
Where You Come In: Our story starts not on the far flung battlefields of Vainlight Valley, nor the busy shipyards of Wave's Keep, but in a place called Seedingstate. Well, on Imperial bureaucratic papers, it's actually labeled Recruitment State #52775, but who cares about that anyway. Seedingstate sits in the middle area of the Empire, far away from both the tumultuous battle lines to the East, and the pompous sprawling cities to the West, and is simply a quaint countryside retreat in the eyes of weary Imperial soldiers (the ones that survive long enough to earn a vacation, that is). The temperate climate, hospitable people, and ease of access is what truly makes Seedingstate a place to call home - in fact, Seedingstate's capital of Stately Keep was originally founded by Imperial pilgrims and Eastward wagoners who stayed here simply because it looked so pleasant.

And pleasant, it was - for a time, Seedingstate endured a massive population boom, as word of its pleasantness spread to others, and flocks of settlers came to the lush meadows and hills in the area. But as the old proverb goes: Too many cooks spoil the broth. Overpopulation, crime, and shortage of resource soon wrecked Seedingstate's allure, and many people no longer looked at this place with the same warmth and euphoria their first gazes held. It got so bad that the King's Council itself had to intervene, mustering vast resources and efforts to relocate the bulk of the new population elsewhere - and an Imperial Guardsmen Legion to quash criminals and bandits. Now an old, hollow shell of itself, Seedingstate recovers slowly from this massive population spike with trades and guilds.

This is where you come in.

Among the guilds established to help the land get back on its feet, the Stately Keep Adventurer's Guild is the most profitable - and the most dangerous. Within the Guild, warriors, priests and warrior-priests mingle among scoundrels, outlaws, scoundrel-outlaws to fulfill quests put out by the state government, and its nearby neighbors. Quests of all shapes and sizes are up for grabs: bee farming, bandit clearing, security escort, breaking into prison, breaking out of prison, crocodile seduction,... all of which are more dangerous than they sound. There are many new faces to be seen everyday at the Guild Hall, but very few old faces to greet. The Guild is also allowed to summon adventurers from near and far, with a hefty sum of money presented for their troubles.

Chaotic terror is on the rise. Rumors of a Darkborne cult have begun to spread, with no sign of stopping. You've been summoned. Preserve the fading flames of this world, or perish in its utter blackness. No pressure.
words: yes welcome back
The RP is set in Seedingstate, a regular State of the Empire of Light. The land is still fertile, but only a shadow of what it once was before the settlers flocked here. Stately Keep serves as the capital of the state, as well as the central link in the Adventurer Guild's network. The Network, a vast web of Light energy encompassing the entire Empire, grants mages and magic-based machinery the energy it needs to function, and Seedingstate harbors a great Relay Beacon of this Network. As such, Magitech machinery thrives in Stately Keep and its surrounding cities.

Its suburbs include amenities and royal retreats, along with industrial compounds. New Kaldor Metalworks, Herbert's Farmland, Renneton Villa, and many more places are all connected with dirt roads, leading to and from Stately Keep. A nice forest lies to the North, a river runs to the West, and mountainous caves lurk to the East.

The Guild's summon specifically looked for people who could hold their own in combat, but also be outsiders so as not to be influenced by the internal politics of Seedingstate. They would not be required to be discreet about their origins, since for their stay it would not be a big enough problem anyway. All races and all specializations welcome, though the employer did make sure to summon those with a fair amount of skill in diplomacy and negotiations.

Kabboom · Dec 31, 2019

CHAPTER I: A GREAT DARKNESS LOOMS...

The sun is not kind to people at work, even more so in Seedingstate. The heat radiates from the light, permeates in the air, and enriches the daily lives of the farmers with suffering. Life in Seedingstate, for the most part, seems like a perfect allegory for the Empire if some wandering highborn Imperial or suicidal Sarmanian novelist were to stumble upon the sight: the farmers till the fields in the heat for shitty pay - their parents vend the wares and fruits of labor in the bustling marketplaces of Stately Keep for shitty pay - their sons and daughters conscripted into the Imperial Army many winters ago, fighting the myriad of horrors clawing at the frontiers of the Empire for shitty pay; but at least at the end of the day, everyone can relax and be amused by the flock of pilgrims and travelers who come and go. But hey, at least Seedingstate isn't the center of a deep, dark, insidious evil about to erupt horribly and kill everyone, right?

Right?

The Adventurer's Guild doesn't seem to think so. The Guild Hall, tucked neatly in the center of Stately Keep, harbors warriors, mages, poets, travelers, investigators, bards from all walks of life. The light flickers in from the windows, illuminating the lively hall that dominates most of the building - and the hordes of mostly-disorganized adventurers that inhabit it, numbering somewhere near the hundreds. A space, thankfully free of the hatred and fear that seems to exist throughout the Empire, if only because of strictly-enforced regulations: elves, humans, Incruscans, even Giants converse freely among each other; pious paladins and religious zealots arm-wrestle shady rogues and near-barbaric warriors; even the staff playfully chime in, and the occasional rare species or faraway foreigner would earn more than their fair share of curious adventurers gathering at their tables.

The tavern is, obviously, the most populated area of the Hall, decked out with a variety of alcohols and beverages, and is also coincidentally where the Big Board is located - a large obelisk of tempered star-metal, first found by the settlers of Stately Keep, now repurposed to be the place where the serf Nadeem posts the myriad of quests available by the Guild. The head of the Guild's greatest achievement so far - the head of Naz-aënor, a deadly dragon that once terrorized travelers along the Pilgrim Trail - hangs above the bar section of the hall, its dead eyes gazing upon the unwary adventurers as they entertain themselves between quests, aided with the soothing music of the local bards (who seem to attract rather promiscuous drunken adventurers after every performance). Ex-Guardians employed by the Guild keep a watchful eye out for potential troublemakers, while somehow lazily leaning against the doors with their eyes shut at the same time. A good drink, a good time, and good security is what draws adventurers and non-adventurers to this place so frequently.

But, of course, this isn't why you're here. You're here because the Guild has summoned you personally, with the powers invested in it by the King's Council. You're here because you can do something that the Guild needs, something no other adventurer in its employ can do as of current. With a neatly-tucked summoning letter in your possession and an appointment date - today - marked on the exterior, you walk into the Guild and immediately get recognized by the barkeep. A quick yet subtle referral later, you're on your way towards one of the many private chambers that can be hired out for meetings by adventurers. The elaborate marble tiling and craftsman furniture, however, tells you that your chamber might be reserved for something... different. An assortment of chairs lie ready, along with magical letters engraved upon the polished limestone chimney-thing that lies at the center of the chamber.

'Be patient. I will be there shortly. - Your summoner'

Well then.

ShadeAlucard · Dec 31, 2019

Sylvia

Sylvia sat in her prison cell against one of the back corners facing the wall. She was cold, tired, but most of all, she was angry. She had never failed a mission in her entire time as an assassin...yet this pompous asshole of a warrior...managed to out maneuver her by having a dog in his room. Now she was just counting down the days till she was either released finally, or executed.

Her count was rudely interrupted by a pair of guards, who introduced themselves by tossing a pair of handcuffs between the bars into the cell. “Put them on. You’re getting released.”

Sylvia turned around, fire in her eyes as she looks at the guards. “Oh really? Im being released huh? Trust me not to come back and set the entire guild on fire?” Sylvia spat at them, poison in her words as she complied to putting on the cuffs. She was happy to be released, but was not going to show it.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” The second guard dismissed her words, as he opened the jail door. “Funny how you mention the guild. They’re the one bailing you out of here.” He added, motioning his head for her to move out of the room.

Sylvia stopped in her tracks just before the door. “Wait...you are telling me the Guild, who I tried to assassinate their best warrior, is bailing me out? Is this some kind of sick joke?” Sylvia said, her eyes narrowing to daggers at the guard.

“Yeah, pretty much. They’ll bail you out, on the condition that you work with ‘em for a bit. Here.” The first guard shrugged as they began walking her out of the prison area, fitting a letter into her cuffed hands. “We’re gonna escort you to the Hall, then that’ll be that. Now c’mon, get moving, I got lunch after this.” The second guard rushed her, with a slight push from behind.

Sylvia didn't understand this. Why was she being recruited by the people she tried to kill? When she got the letter in hand, she opened it to read it while being escorted, giving a nasty growl to the guard that shoved her to go faster. “And if I refuse this?” Sylvia said as she continued to read the letter.

“Well, we haven’t walked too far away from your cell… and unsanctioned assassinations will give you a hefty sentence around your neck. Your pick.” The second guard grumbled, jingling jail keys unlocking the doors to the rest of the building.

Sylvia sighs and rolls the letter back up. “Guess I don't have a choice.” Sylvia said. “Will these cuffs be released when i'm in the hall?”

“Yyyup. Play nice. Your stuff’s in storage at the Hall.” Fresh air, for the first time, appears for the trio, and the commoners walking around shoot Sylvia a few weird looks, before moving out of the way.

Sylvia glares at them all. She didn't care what they thought about her. She was mistreated because she was an Incursan anyways, but she always had a way to carry herself over the others anyways. She just kept going, making sure to follow the guards until she got to the Hall.

“Welp. That’s all. Have fun in there.” The guards dismissed themselves rather quickly, uncuffing her with swiftness.

Sylvia rubs her wrists, goes over to where they said her stuff was, went to a hidden area to put everything on, and went over to where the chairs and sits down, being sure not to make any eye contact with anyone.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jazmin

Jazmin, excited and nervous for her first time outside the church, walks over to the Hall she was summoned to. She noticed that the guards had brought in an Incursan in handcuffs...not the first thing she wanted to see, seeing she could be a very violent individual and the guards just pretty much...released her in here with her. Jazmin just tried not to make eye contact and took a seat on the opposite side of the hall from the Incursan. Now, to wait for the others and see who shows up.

Aryasaurus · Dec 31, 2019

• B r y n ' a i • T o h - A e s c a •

It had been quite some time since the young maiden of the sea stepped fin or foot inside the guild hall, her time had been regularly spent completing solo quests and infamously not working well with others. But when a mysterious letter from the guild summoned her, with the backing of the King’s Council, she couldn’t necessarily refuse.
Long black hair curled wetly down her back as she stepped through the lofty doors of the guild, it snaked down her armor like dripping ink. The armor itself was gilded gold combined with a unique dense sea green material - somewhat similar to that of a hybrid between ballistic fiber and lycra - which kept her body both protected and free from constraints on land or in water. Beneath it she wore a light chain-mail, which protected her land suit - a tight slip of fabric weaved with tubes that recycled and pumped water into her gills.
By the indication of the sun, and the position it was in the sky, Bryn’ai deduced that she was on time, perhaps even a bit early. With any luck she would be the first to arrive - she was confident in her skills, but even she knew that the guild would never solely rely on her to complete a mission with this much secrecy on her own.

The marble floor was cold on her bare feet; the heat of the land air seemed to dry her clothes much faster, but this was all irrelevant to the task at hand. She had, sealed inside a plastic bag, the summoning letter, and had made her way through the guild to the private chambers where she was set to meet whoever it was that had requested her presence. She could only imagine that it was some kind of dangerous job request - something for the most capable, yet as she stepped into the room she was blatantly disappointed with what she found. Magical letters engraved upon a polished limestone pillar in the center of the chamber briefly slapped her in the face with the realization that the one responsible for sending her this letter was, as it turned out, fashionably late to their own meeting. She was made to wait? ‘How rude’. Furthermore, as she had expected, she was not alone in her waiting.

‘Great’, she thought to herself, rolling her eyes as she nonchalantly entered the room. Her attitude was very standoffish towards the two currently present - they were, in her eyes, ‘outsiders’, and as such she knew better than to approach. She kept her distance, but displayed nothing but confidence as she pulled a chair away from the rest, opting to keep away from what she expected to be a gathering of many guild members.
Bryn’ai sat and waited, adjusting her armor where needed, and pulled her webbed fingers to comb through the strands of damp hair, trying to get it to at least look neat before this ‘summoner’ arrived.

RandomBlobMan · Dec 31, 2019

Voices. Crowds. The Guild Hall was crowded. More voices. More than he needed to hear.
Kan stumbled into the Guild Hall. The guardian looked around from side to side, muttering under his breath, until he noticed the barkeep waving at him. 'Well, at least you don't have to ask for directions.' Ginfri spoke in his head. Kan murmured words of a positive answer. Yet he did not move. The tall man still hesitating to approach the barkeep, he showed little frustration from the guardian's behavior. He called a loitering guard and whispered something into his ear. The guard slowly approached Kan, and gestured to follow.
'Come on Kan, we didn't come here all the way to stand like an idiot.' Ginfri ushered him once more. Kan finally moved his legs, wading after the guard showing him the way. He went silent, and so did his other voices. They just walked, and walked. They walked into a lesser populated area, and then to a place that seemed off limits for most people. 'Oooh, intriguing.' Ginfri whispered. Kan shrugged. It was an urgent meeting, that needed a sword like him. Then they probably had the money to do it in a private place too. 'Obviously.' Aldka answered.

The guard was dismissed once he guided Kan to a door, and left in a pace as leisurely as the one he walked in when he came to start the guide trip. Kan was left all alone in front of the private chamber. 'There'll be some other peeps.' Ginfri said, with a shrug if he ever existed there. Without any more hesitation Kan swung the door open, scanning the chamber's interior. And, of course, before anything else, whether there were things standing next to the door frame. No, it wasn't some weirdly planned ambush. Glancing to object to object, and person to person, he slowly made his way to the chairs. Taking a glance under the chair, Kan slowly pulled it out. Unbuckling the sword from his back, he held it with his arms as he finally rested himself upon the chair. 'Never letting go?' Aldka said.

Noble Scion · Dec 31, 2019

Eliza Starborn

The knight took a moment to grin at the letter she held in her hand, reading and re-reading the words on the parchment expressing the need for her abilities in this so-called "adventurer's guild" which she'd heard was created for dealing with more particular and dangerous tasks. Pride settled on her breast when her metal-clad foot passed through the entrance, a smile as broad as the sun lighting up her face at the cacophony of tales and murmurings from fellow knights, mages and priests that seemed to be in the same position as her. Difficult to miss due to the pinned up vibrant crimson hair swaying dramatically in the wind and the sheer mass of the woman.

Any of those that took a moment to size her up were met with gentle, friendly eyes, slightly darkened from the experience of war, yet made all the warmer with a smile from the sizable woman. A distinct taste of haughtiness emanated from her, yet she bore no ill intent as she wandered past, practically radiating glee as she firmly knocked on what was assumed to be the meeting place and made her way inside, maintaining her smile, yet composing herself a little more for something more suitable for something so serious, walking a little taller and giving a friendly nod to the guardsmen at the door while showing them the letter.

"Greetings!" Eliza called out brightly, "I take it our host hasn't arrived yet. A pleasure to meet you all." bobbed contentedly to the four before taking one of the seats with a poor attempt at trying to lessen the noise of armour on chair, taking a seat next to the member closest to the door, next to the fox-person.

From what she could tell, two were incurscan and the other two were human, like her, not that it mattered all too much. She'd never held much bias based on appearance, tending to form opinions through personality and motives. The imperial guard was filled with so many colourful characters that simply wanted to help in some way it was hard to decipher who was in it for justice or for money, not that either motive was wrong, but Eli knew which ones she wanted to stick with.

One of the faces rang a bell with her, but she couldn't quite place it from a first glance, and didn't particularly want to start staring. Every so often her eyes dragged back to the lone man of the room bringing a small frown to her brow as she tried to piece the memory together.

Deciding on making a move considering the rather stale quietness of the room, Dame Starborn leaned forward towards the closest person, being the fox-woman, and reached out an armoured hand towards the kitsune tentatively with a grin. "Pleasure to meet you, the name's Eliza Starborn, paladin for the imperial guardsmen legion, Dame, captain of the 501st division and a number of other titles I won't try to bore into your skull, heh." she laughed, awaiting the expected handshake

RandomBlobMan

Aryasaurus

ShadeAlucard

Inkles The Octo · Dec 31, 2019

As Merid stepped into the hall, Music stopped. In the doorway stood a tall, buff girl. Her blond and blue hair flowing in the draft created by the door. Her hammer shimmering in the sunlight. Merid's footsteps carried the same weight as someone who had been through what seemed like many wars. As she walked, the skull on her satchel swayed side to side, spewing a dark mist from the eye holes. The mist faded as it reached halfway to the floor. Merid made her way towards the bar. "Please don't tell me she is going to yell for me..." Merid mumbled to herself.

Pilgrim59

Inheritance · Dec 31, 2019

Brom Beararm

Another guild, another summon from the King. Why on earth was here here? He could have very easily ignored the summon-maybe move a bit farther from civilization and live out his life in the woods. His talent as a woodsman was matched by few, and he had been on his own for so long that living a solitary life wouldn't have been that crazy anyway. But he had learned a lot about this place, and this darkness that seemed to corrupt this new land made living in the wilderness much more dangerous than just the risk of loneliness. It made it deadly, too deadly for one person to deal with alone...but he always seemed to be alone, whether it was here, or in the land he had fled from.

He glanced around at all the faces around him. They seemed mortal enough, though he couldn't judge books by their covers. The last time he was summoned to a guild, he had to flee for his life so that an insane arch-mage didn't turn him into something unnatural. He shivered at the thought, taking a swig of the flask that he kept with him. He was no alcoholic, but this place made him nervous, and he needed to take the edge off.

Not that these people seemed all that bad; they actually seemed great. None of them looked like irresponsibly powerful beings that considered mortals to be at the same level as insects. These people looked real. They looked like they had goals. They looked like they were here to protect the people who couldn't protect themselves, and that sent waves of relief through his body.

It was quiet, and with only one person daring to make conversation, the silence that echoed in the room redoubled. He missed the days where taverns and guilds were filled with conversation and laughter, and it reminded him of his younger days of traveling. He used to love traveling; meeting new people and listening to their crazy stories. He loved helping people on the road, getting into a good brawl, and listening to a song under the stars. He missed those days, and in this new land he was starting to get them back. That was the only reason he accepted this call from the King.

So he leaned back and listened. He wouldn't talk to anyone-not yet anyway-but this mysterious host that hadn't shown up yet had given him a scary reminder of what the arch-mage had been like. If the host didn't show up soon, Brom would leave. Brom wasn't the brightest man, but he was smart enough to avoid repeating history, and that seemed to be enough to keep him alive. So he watched, listened, and uncharacteristically sat in the background as a silent listener waiting for what was to come.

Birdsie · Dec 31, 2019

Thrud Syndottir

Sparks of orange power clapped away from the surface of the axe. The hammer descended, hitting the white-hot surface of the weapon again. The black-bearded, balding blacksmith lifted it from the anvil, to take a look at his progress.

He deemed it sufficient.

He stuck the weapon into a barrel of cold water. The barrel exhaled an explosion of hot white mist, covering the entire chamber in steam and blinding Thrud's eyesight. The man moved onto the grindstone, sharpened the blade more, and the handed her the weapon, while she handed him a threepence of copper and a silver obol for the repairs.

She took up the weapon and examined it, in the dim reflective light of the forge. She'd bought the axe a year ago, after her last weapon broke, and used it since then. The handle was plain wood, wrapped with blue cloth. The axehead was dull metal, mottled; almost shiny in some places, and opaque dark gray in others. There was no sentimental attachment, but she preferred to repair it than replace it.

Thrud placed the axe onto the in-built loop in her armor, walking outside to meet her fiancee. She smiled warmly at Brygita's sight, a look distinctly uncharacteristic to anyone who didn't know the woman had a warmer side. "It's done, Brygita. Let's get to the guild."

The two nordic women fell into step and reached the guild within moments. They maneuvered around the endless hustle and bustle of the interior, and walked together into the appointment room - their characteristics melded together, all but screaming about their shared background to anyone bothering to look at them.

Thrud took a single glance at the adventurers in the hall, looking them over and gauging them silently, with varying but often high levels of judgmentalism.

"What do you think?" she asked her partner, without looking in her direction.

Epiphany

Epiphany · Jan 1, 2020

Brygita Brzęczyszczykiewicz

It was a fair question her fiancee asked. The tall brown-haired woman seemed a darker reflection of the blonde warrior woman beside her. Their expressions equally unimpressed. In Brygita's case, though, she took her time sizing up each adventurer in the room.

ShadeAlucard The Incursan woman avoiding eye contact, seated as if she wanted to be anywhere but here.
The Cleric equally determined to avoid noticing anyone, seated as far from the Incursan as possible.

Aryasaurus Another Incursan, also seated as far from the other Incursan or the Cleric as she could be.

RandomBlobMan A human warrior by the looks of him, one who'd seen too many battles perhaps, and whose eyes had the faint abstraction of someone having a conversation no one else was having...

Noble Scion A young knight her own height, the only one who seemed interested in their fellow warriors at all. At least she'd made an effort to connect with one of them.

Inkles The Octo An even taller warrior, that hammer looked promising at least. And yet, little interest in her fellows.

Inheritance Possibly the oldest man here, although with the number of women here he didn't have much competition. Another warrior by his build and the wear on his body, and another who kept his own counsel rather than share it with others. His was the gaze of experience at least.

Birdsie Finally turning back to her partner, Brygita winced in silent answer to Thrud's question.

Then she stepped into the room fully and walked to one of the set of windows offering dim illumination of an otherwise firelit room. Across her back, the great length of the Fiery Blossom waved with her stride, an obviously bound spear. Upon reaching the panes of glass, Brygita promptly turned her back to them to face into the awkwardly silent room and its awkward inhabitants.

She promptly shattered the silence by opening her mouth and speaking in a loud voice, the way a drill sergeant might.

"You lot. This is what the Guild's called forth in behalf of the King's Council? My letter spoke of a need for my unique skills. Judging by the letters a few of you hold as well, you're here for the same purpose. And yet most of you look like you don't want to be here."

Brygita swept the spear off her back and, blade still bound, she slammed the haft of her weapon against the floor. The shaft rang like a bell struck by a hammer, the sound impossible to ignore in this spacious yet enclosed meeting room. "You will die," the tall dark-haired warrior pronounced. "If not on this assignment, than another, for I can only imagine you've thought only of who summoned us. What this mission is. As if that person's identity or purpose has anything to do with our success or failure."

"If we succeed, it will be because of each other."

"No commanding officer has ever saved her men from death. No, the man at your right and the woman on your left are your saviors. Those you fight with are your only hope in battle. A foolish commander and a foolish mission can be saved despite their foolishness, if the warriors are true to each other. And no plan put before us today, even if it were given by the King himself, will give us victory if we are not true to each other."

"I am Brygita Brzęczyszczykiewicz. I stand with Thrud Syndottir. We have fought countless enemies and we live and they do not. Now stand and give me your names, each of you, like the warriors you are!"

Kabboom · Jan 1, 2020

Keikling & Garax

Keikling was, like usual, sitting on a tree. Not the kind of tree that stood upright and had leaves, no, he sat atop a dead oak tree that had toppled sideways a few odd years ago. Staying in Stately Keep had been a refreshing start for his life! Despite the harsh sun, occasionally rude travelers, and the cramped interior of the Guild Hall, the stout Giant rather enjoyed being able to sit around with his mind flying freely. His size meant any errand he’d be asked to shoulder was not too back-breakingly laborious, and it also allowed him to just exist freely inside the city borders, as long as he didn’t accidentally break any more benches.

He’d been delaying his time, putting off as much time as possible before he has to squeeze himself into the Guild Hall again. A major problem with all the big Imperial settlements (and the small ones too, though they’re more understandable) is that there is simply no easy access for Giants. As he stood up, though, he saw something peculiar: a lizardman walking around with a letter. The same letter that Keikling had. Needless to say, Farongar didn’t feel like procrastinating anymore, and approached the lizard-dude.

Garax had walked for days to reach Seedingstate, for the lizardman wasted no time when the letter was delivered to him. The place was big, bigger than Count Odo’s domains, and far more populated with warmbloods of various varieties. The sun was warm, and Garax was basking in it. Exciting! The streets of this ‘Stately Keep’ reminds the reptilian of the streets of his home city, though the warmbloods were clearly lacking in the artistic aspect of their architecture. As Garax sauntered towards his destination, he earned no few looks from the locals, though this is something the lizardman had been more than accustomed to at this point. Just for safety measures though, Boris rested idly in a satchel by his side.

As he approached the Guild’s Hall, Garax witnessed a particular warmblood of ridiculous proportions, which caused the lizardman to rest his hands on the axe he’d been using as a walking stick in alarm. Still, he kept his pace, for he knew of such warmbloods within this ‘Empire’. From what Garax had heard, these creatures served a more subservient role in comparison to the common warmbloods. Such an idea was strange to him. They were clearly bigger and stronger!

“Hello there, lizardman. I see you have that letter. I have one like that too.” Farongar greeted the lizardman, obviously curious of his existence here. “Quite an odd reason, for them to summon someone like you. I thought you lived far away?”

Garax leaned back and looked up when addressed by the giant. “This one lived nearby. Travelled to this land to see things.” The lizardman shrugged - something he picked up from the warmbloods he associated himself with. “Is big warmblood also summoned?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Big warmblood is also summoned. What do you say we go in together? What’s your name?” Keikling began to pace along with the lizardman, only slightly conscious of his height and the doorframe of the Hall. “My name’s Keikling- ow!”

Garax cackled, though the sounds he made sound more like hoarse wheezing. The big warmblood is not very perceptive, but appeared amiable. He would make a powerful ally. [Sky god] be praised!
“Keikling needs to use eyes. This one is Garax of clan Jadescale.” The lizardman turned his head towards the entrance the two had just passed. “Why warmbloods build small entrances, if big warmbloods can’t fit?”

“Well, they kinda… didn’t have us in mind when they built these things.” Farongar dismissed his pain with some rubbing, and waved at the few concerned people who just saw a really short Giant and a lizardman walk into a bar. “But hey, more obstacles for us to overcome, makes us stronger in the end! I think it’s this way.”

Garax followed the giant Keikling as the two squeezed into the tightly packed communal area, where a lot of warmbloods seem to have gathered to feast and drink, easily looming over most of the other warmbloods, aside from very very big warmbloods, dominating their own corners. Even bigger than Keikling!
Upon inquiring the warmblood titled ‘Barkeep’, they were pointed towards where their ‘summoner’ supposedly waited. Upon exiting the communal area, they were guided by guards to their destination. The textured grey floor was cold beneath Garax’s feet, and as guards opened the heavy, decorated doors, the lizardman was most fascinated by its occupants. Warmbloods are as varied as fruits of the jungle, and this room is a whole palate. His attention was quickly drawn to one most peculiar warmblood, or is it even a warmblood? It has gills and other distinctive features, much like the quick-swimmers of streams or rivers.

The corridor was less pleasant for Keikling, however, who had to squat-crawl through it for the most part. Squeezing through the door, his left arm trailed on the marble floor as he wiggled his way through the offensively human-sized door sideways, on his ribs. “Hi y’all! Sorry we’re late! Didn’t wanna have to go through this tight corridor- Oh.” Keikling started out fairly earnest, but he quieted a bit once he looked up for the first time, and saw his new friend Garax bump into a woman with a long name, nearly knocking her off balance. Apparently, Garax was too busy looking at one of the- fish people? Interesting.

Trappy

Aryasaurus

Epiphany

Aryasaurus · Jan 1, 2020

B r y n ' a i • T o h - A e s c a •

She did not lift her head, but a dangerous glare slide to the corner of her eyes as she watched the woman trying to command her. And yet she just continued to run her mouth. Bryn'ai felt offended - how dare this land-lover demand her to do anything. If they were not in the guild, perhaps she'd have fired an arrow right through her pitiful skull. She didn't care how much strength she boasted to have, but in a way she admired the ferocity.

Bryn'ai stood. Her jaw clenched and unclenched, but she held her head high with the pride of the sea. She opened her mouth to speak when a giant of a land-dweller began squeezing himself through the door frame. She hadn't noticed the two come in, and it had startled her. Her eyes darted to the second one - the lizard man, who then promptly ran into the woman who was running her mouth.

Bryn'ai blinked, and rose her brows, looking down at the girl. "Well then," she said, and offered an appreciative bow of her head to the lizardman - a symbol of respect, though the he may not entirely understand exactly why, it may even just appear as though she were greeting him. "I am Bryn'ai Toh-Aesca of Seise," she said to the room, partially reluctant to give out her name to a roomful of strangers. She then sat back on the chair, and resumed combing her webbed fingers through her hair.

Her tone then hardened, a promise of a threat. "But make no mistake - I will drown the next person who speaks to me like that in the waves of the Koa-Toh. I don't care who you claim to be, you are equally no one here."

Trappy ,

Kabboom ,

Epiphany and whoever else..

Pilgrim59 · Jan 1, 2020

Maroni
Sentinel of Trentino
「Adventurer Guild, Seedingstate, Empire of Light」

Interacted: Merid (

Inkles The Octo ), Eliza (

Noble Scion )
Mentioned: N/A

Donning a smug grin on her face, the Regalian knight in red, white, and blue paced herself towards the Adventurer's Guild. She had won her deeds of the day - by bartering the local shopkeeper to his demise. Her rewards tucked between her shield and arms, a bag laden with freshly baked doughnuts. Surely, her apprentice would find her success commendable, or so she contemplated. Even as a recently commissioned Guardian, Maroni had a multitude of tasks to accomplish, among the daily deeds as expected of a defender of the Light. For the foreseeable future, with her newly-appointed Guardian-in-training as company, Maroni thought it best to secure a stable foundation for their current course. Surely, there is always something to do in the Empire. Even so, having been invited by the Guild Master himself to partake in their gathering, perhaps Maroni would be able to inquire much more there. It was a sound opportunity for Maroni and her inititate to contribute their skillsets, while having a roof over their heads.

So she walked, taking into sights the grand hall, albeit not as grand as the Guardian Institute. Even so, with her short stature, it was something to be awe-struck by, and so she was. Before long, Maroni found her apprentice, Merid, evident by the latter's shimmering hammer and imposing height. Waving her hands from across the room, the Regalian called out to the tall girl.

"Merid! There you are! Here. I have procured something for ya!" Maroni announced her presence, accompanied by a confident smile, as she handed the bag of doughnuts to Merid. She then waltzed her way past the other adventurers, alongside her apprentice.

Casting her eyes around the room, there were a few notable figures that seems to be preoccupied with their conversation. Turning towards Merid, Maroni smiled.

"Looks like the instruments have yet to perform. Come, Merid, let us see if we could implore some unspoken wisdom among this crowd."

Having said that, the Regalian took lead, before a certain laugh caught her attention. Her head locked in the air, while her body dragged forward upon contact of a certain red headed figure in armor, whose familiar voice echoed the chamber with vigor and pride. There was no mistaking it. Maroni eyes widened.

"By Saint March! if it isn't the audacious Eliza Starborn of the five-oh-first! Been doing well without my august self, I presume? Ehehe~" Maroni approached Eliza from behind, proclaiming her presence with a bright grin to follow.

RandomBlobMan · Jan 1, 2020

Noble Scion said:
Eliza Starborn

View attachment 662667

The knight took a moment to grin at the letter she held in her hand, reading and re-reading the words on the parchment expressing the need for her abilities in this so-called "adventurer's guild" which she'd heard was created for dealing with more particular and dangerous tasks. Pride settled on her breast when her metal-clad foot passed through the entrance, a smile as broad as the sun lighting up her face at the cacophony of tales and murmurings from fellow knights, mages and priests that seemed to be in the same position as her. Difficult to miss due to the pinned up vibrant crimson hair swaying dramatically in the wind and the sheer mass of the woman.

Any of those that took a moment to size her up were met with gentle, friendly eyes, slightly darkened from the experience of war, yet made all the warmer with a smile from the sizable woman. A distinct taste of haughtiness emanated from her, yet she bore no ill intent as she wandered past, practically radiating glee as she firmly knocked on what was assumed to be the meeting place and made her way inside, maintaining her smile, yet composing herself a little more for something more suitable for something so serious, walking a little taller and giving a friendly nod to the guardsmen at the door while showing them the letter.

"Greetings!" Eliza called out brightly, "I take it our host hasn't arrived yet. A pleasure to meet you all." bobbed contentedly to the four before taking one of the seats with a poor attempt at trying to lessen the noise of armour on chair, taking a seat next to the member closest to the door, next to the fox-person.

From what she could tell, two were incurscan and the other two were human, like her, not that it mattered all too much. She'd never held much bias based on appearance, tending to form opinions through personality and motives. The imperial guard was filled with so many colourful characters that simply wanted to help in some way it was hard to decipher who was in it for justice or for money, not that either motive was wrong, but Eli knew which ones she wanted to stick with.

One of the faces rang a bell with her, but she couldn't quite place it from a first glance, and didn't particularly want to start staring. Every so often her eyes dragged back to the lone man of the room bringing a small frown to her brow as she tried to piece the memory together.

Deciding on making a move considering the rather stale quietness of the room, Dame Starborn leaned forward towards the closest person, being the fox-woman, and reached out an armoured hand towards the kitsune tentatively with a grin. "Pleasure to meet you, the name's Eliza Starborn, paladin for the imperial guardsmen legion, Dame, captain of the 501st division and a number of other titles I won't try to bore into your skull, heh." she laughed, awaiting the expected handshake

RandomBlobMan Aryasaurus ShadeAlucard

Epiphany said:
Brygita Brzęczyszczykiewicz

It was a fair question her fiancee asked. The tall brown-haired woman seemed a darker reflection of the blonde warrior woman beside her. Their expressions equally unimpressed. In Brygita's case, though, she took her time sizing up each adventurer in the room.

ShadeAlucard The Incursan woman avoiding eye contact, seated as if she wanted to be anywhere but here.
The Cleric equally determined to avoid noticing anyone, seated as far from the Incursan as possible.
Aryasaurus Another Incursan, also seated as far from the other Incursan or the Cleric as she could be.
RandomBlobMan A human warrior by the looks of him, one who'd seen too many battles perhaps, and whose eyes had the faint abstraction of someone having a conversation no one else was having...
Noble Scion A young knight her own height, the only one who seemed interested in their fellow warriors at all. At least she'd made an effort to connect with one of them.
Inkles The Octo An even taller warrior, that hammer looked promising at least. And yet, little interest in her fellows.
Inheritance Possibly the oldest man here, although with the number of women here he didn't have much competition. Another warrior by his build and the wear on his body, and another who kept his own counsel rather than share it with others. His was the gaze of experience at least.
Birdsie Finally turning back to her partner, Brygita winced in silent answer to Thrud's question.

Then she stepped into the room fully and walked to one of the set of windows offering dim illumination of an otherwise firelit room. Across her back, the great length of the Fiery Blossom waved with her stride, an obviously bound spear. Upon reaching the panes of glass, Brygita promptly turned her back to them to face into the awkwardly silent room and its awkward inhabitants.

She promptly shattered the silence by opening her mouth and speaking in a loud voice, the way a drill sergeant might.

"You lot. This is what the Guild's called forth in behalf of the King's Council? My letter spoke of a need for my unique skills. Judging by the letters a few of you hold as well, you're here for the same purpose. And yet most of you look like you don't want to be here."

Brygita swept the spear off her back and, blade still bound, she slammed the haft of her weapon against the floor. The shaft rang like a bell struck by a hammer, the sound impossible to ignore in this spacious yet enclosed meeting room. "You will die," the tall dark-haired warrior pronounced. "If not on this assignment, than another, for I can only imagine you've thought only of who summoned us. What this mission is. As if that person's identity or purpose has anything to do with our success or failure."

"If we succeed, it will be because of each other."

"No commanding officer has ever saved her men from death. No, the man at your right and the woman on your left are your saviors. Those you fight with are your only hope in battle. A foolish commander and a foolish mission can be saved despite their foolishness, if the warriors are true to each other. And no plan put before us today, even if it were given by the King himself, will give us victory if we are not true to each other."

"I am Brygita Brzęczyszczykiewicz. I stand with Thrud Syndottir. We have fought countless enemies and we live and they do not. Now stand and give me your names, each of you, like the warriors you are!"

When a voice rang throughout the room, addressing a person who was not him, Kan perked his head up. Ginfri and Aldka went silent. The warrior’s eyes rested upon an armored being with red, eye catching hair. Memories sparked.
Heavy breathing, weight on two shoulders. Ropes. Dragging noises. More breathing. Multiple footsteps. They weren’t his. Metal footsteps. He threw one of his boots away. Who made those sounds? Yelling. Human words, actual language. No more animals howling. Figures danced in his sight. People. In armor.
“....”
Kan’s mouth opened without any sound escaping it. His grip on Ginfri tightened.
Wounds were treated. He was restrained when he wouldn’t get away from...
‘Kan.’ Aldka broke the silence. Kan realized he was breathing faster. ‘Kan.’ Ginfri. ‘Calm down for the sake of the Light. You’re gonna make things awkward.’ Yes, yes... the man rested his forehead against Ginfri. Kan’s focus broke from the red haired lady as he tried to calm himself down.

It wasn’t long before he heard another voice. Loud and charismatic, nothing like the lady with red hair. His left eyebrow twitched as Kan looked up once more. A duo stood, one of them addressing everyone in the room. ‘Oooh, speak of a dramatic entrance.’ Ginfri said, eager to see what came from the other inhabitants of this relatively silent chamber. Aldka sighed as the woman went on. ‘Ginfri, don’t provoke.’
“....”
Kan slowly stood up, flinching looking back and down as the chair he was sitting on dragged against the floor. Ginfri bursted into a fit of laughter as Kan turned back to Brygita. ‘Ask her to say her name again, I didn’t hear it.’ Ginfri said among his laughter. Aldka sighed louder.
“Kan”
Kan opened his mouth. Both hands wrapped around his sword’s guard, he spoke in a dull tone.
“Argent”
He said. ‘The name!’ ‘Ginfri, stop.’ Kan inhaled and exhaled.

A very inefficient introduction to

Epiphany
A momentary glance at the glorious red hair of

Noble Scion

ShadeAlucard · Jan 1, 2020

Sylvia

Sylvia looked at this person who slammed the spear down into the floor with a fiery glare in her eyes. 'ah, a new assassination target that i can set for myself perhaps?' Sylvia thought to herself. She hated when people thought themselves higher than the others. Sylvia decided to ignore her, lest she say something wrong and get thrown back into the jail cell. though come to think of it...wouldnt death be a sweeter release than working with this band of fools? She then looked over at the person who was trying to shake her hand and She pushed it away slowly. "Sorry, but im not a hand shaker. I also dont give my name out to anyone who can use it against me. so try to get to know me first before hand. otherwise, ill kill you in your sleep." Sylvia said with as much of a sweet, innocent smile she could muster

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jazmin

Jazmin jumped at the sound of the spear hitting the floor as she looked around. Already...she saw people she was scared of. And she was gonna have to heal them? Jazmin stood up slowly, shaking at the knees and clutching her cleric staff so tightly, her knuckles where white with no color on them. "M...My name is Jazmin. I...I'm a c-cleric from the church. N-nice to meet you all?" Jazmin said, fear clearly in her voice as she practically collapses back into her seat, breathing heavily and still looking at the ones that were huge in height compared to her and the others

Soviet Panda · Jan 1, 2020

Otrygg was in the Guild hall, the others of his soon to be party having most likely walked past him on their way to the meeting hall. What was he doing, you may ask? Well, the only thing someone like him could do. He was drinking, and showing off his strength to all those that cared to pay attention. Currently he was locked in combat with a burly man, the muscles in both their arms straining, and the contender clenching his teeth in determination. Otrygg, for his part, was laughing and downing another mug of mead (something he was quite happy to find out they served) with his free hand. "Come now, friend Danny, I'd have thought you'd have moved me by now. Here, let me get you started."

Slowly, the back of his hand moved towards the table, stopping when his arm was at about forty-five degrees. "There, friend Danny, surely this is enough for you." Otrygg said through his laughter. For 'friend' Danny's part, he was turning red from straining and one would think a tooth was about to crack. "Oh, look at the time. Sorry, friend Danny, but I have to get going." And with that, Otrygg returned his arm to it's starting position before slamming his opponents hand into the table. Standing up and leaning over to congratulate his opponent for the effort with a pat on the back, he waves for the barkeep to give the man some alcohol in hopes of smoothing the undoubtedly ruffled feathers that come from being so effortlessly beaten.

Otrygg navigated his way to the meeting room, helped along on more than one occasion by a passerby. Even before he was in the right hall he could hear a loud voice, something about having lived and not died or something like that, and when he arrived at the (assumed) right door, he saw a giant had just finished wriggling his way in. What need would they have of a giant? Unless what they were to handle was big, and strong, and had lots of teeth. Oh, he quite liked the sound of that.

Upon entering the room, he looks at the giant lizard and giant, well, Giant. "Oh, we have two giants." he said with a smile and a wink towards the lizardman. He then turns towards the rest of the room and quickly picks up on the atmosphere. "Oh, a storm's rolled in has it. I would've had Nathaniel bring us some ale and mead if I knew it was like this in here." He then remembered the loud voice he had heard and began to put the pieces together. "Ah, so it was you that was making that noise. Your voice carries, you know that? What was it you were saying? I couldn't hear all of it, being two halls over and walking in the wrong direction as I was. Bah, I got the gist of it. I am Otrygg Stykarsson. I have fought many, and lived. As I should've, my Gefeoht ain't done yet."

Observing the rest of the room, he spots a fish incurscan, a fox incurscan, the giant and lizardman he had seen when he first entered the room with the rest being apparently human. But the one he noticed most was the small child. "Oh, why look at the wee killer we have here. Got to start 'em young, aye? But I don't think this is going to be something for you, little girl. Maybe go collect some herbs, I'm pretty sure I saw one on the board. It was pretty high up, though, so you probably didn't see it." Little did he know, that 'wee killer' was a full grown woman and graduated Guardian.

Noble Scion · Jan 1, 2020

Eliza Starborn

Eliza's smile dropped to a cold glare upon hearing the words spoken by the kitsune, clearly displeased. "A thousand bandits haven't killed me, so I don't think a fox with a butter knife will, friend." she said flatly, making no further move for a second introduction to the woman, and standing up, her fist that had been extended turning into a straining ball, containing withheld anger. "... We're allies, so either buckle up your britches and treat your teammates with respect, as I intend to do for you should you choose this route, or throw away that letter and go back to whatever nasty little crevice you came from, Incurscan." the knight growled, forced to use the name of their race over their unknown actual name, as she turned around to face the number of new entrants to the room, her smile returning, yet not quite as prominent as before at having to continue being in the presence of such an individual, cold and stern, the face of a battle-hardened warrior.

Yet the sternness was fleeting. Her smile soon grew once more to the level of friendliness it had been, and wider as she saw people she recognised.

Finally placing the face at the sight of the horror-stricken man gaping at her, she remember just who they were. His name was lost to her, but she more than remembered the scenario, but that was to be a conversation for another day, in private. She simply gave him a solemn nod and hoped that she wasn't sparking anything traumatic for the man as he began mumbling to things only he could see.

The sound of someone else's voice was a pleasure to hear, particularly given that they seemed to understand the concept of "teamwork", and that they all had the opportunity to decline if they despised the risks of the guild. Eliza, of course, was exactly where she wanted to be. As much as she'd shoved her life into the frontlines with her troops, she always felt like she could do more than hunt down bandits and deal with the rare void-creature. They also seemed to be speaking with confidence, a trait she liked to think she also had considering her rank, which told that they seemed to be here of their own volition, unlike others.

Eliza made a mental note to approach them later, feeling like they'd make for a good conversation partner, and wondered if the other Nordic-looking woman was with them. From what she could tell with them standing so close, she could only assume.

"Eliza! Eliza Starborn!" Eli called, drawing her sword and raising it skyward with a cheer before returning it carefully to its sheath, not wanting to damage anything or anyone, despite a morbid demon on her shoulder telling her to.

Yet as she finished her name, the woman was barrelled into by a lizard man that had somehow failed to look through the door, and a giant, literally, sticking their head through. As much as Eliza didn't want to admit it, she wasn't particularly fond of incurscans this day. They'd put her in a bit of a sour mood so far.

Other names rang out through the room with varying levels of loudness, no one seeming to be quite as willing to speak up as she had, some bordering shy, while others had somehow taken the motivational speech as an insult. The red-haired knight simply scratched her chin at those she'd be working with, unsure of what to make of the party.

Yet all of her worries floated into the void as her eyes settled on her school friend Maroni as she turned around to face the nudge at her back.

Eliza's laugh roared through the room as she wrapped her arms around the smaller woman and hefted them into the air, beaming with delight. "WONDERFUL!" she boomed, doing a spin with them in her arms, hair floating through the air, before placing them delicately back on the ground, smile stretching from ear to ear. "Haha! I've been doing mightily fine my friend! I've missed you! Haven't had a chance to sit down properly and have a cup of tea since I finished my cleric studies, I fear I might've forgotten how to sit down at all! How fares thee, lady Maro?"

Her day had been made, and the only half-genuine smile she'd learnt to keep on her face at all times was now a real one. Eliza radiated joy and was almost tempted to pick up her friend once more simply because she could, but refrained from doing so as she noticed another figure lurking behind, taller than even herself. "... And who might that be? A buddy to replace me? Certainly got a thing for tall folk, don't you?" the knight joked with a light pat on Maroni's shoulder

Midrick · Jan 2, 2020

Damien obeyed his summons to Seedingate, he had only been back in the empire proper, for about a week. He had been "given" an unspecified amount of leave. Really he had been told to fuck off out of Simeria. Sokolov Solutions had been making life a living hell for the Sarmanian national army there, barely any of the mercenaries had been killed in battle, and Simerians had agreed on natural resources as payment. Damien had one of the longest timw on the job out of the entire force that had been deployed. Anton Sokolov had deployed with them, and although he was often in the more cushier parts of the local country he made sure his men were taken care of. Damien himself had been summoned to his headquarters and essentially told by Anton to live while he was still young, stop acting like a goddamn machine, and maybe have a nice night with one of the local women once in a while. Damien simply obeyed and went by the main road to Regalia and caught a ship that swung down into the empire. Besides he visiting a very small group of old friends and maybe his parents, he didn't know what to do with himself, his work was his life, he had very few social interactions and he definitely was not the intimate type. He had received the summons in frontiersville, a nice little town, he had secretly relieved, he now had something that needed doing.

Damien walked into the adventures guild, his gear marked him as a mercenary, he didn't draw attention to himself, one of his talents, never standing out, staying on the edge of a crowd, almost like he ceased to exist. He excelled at observing his surroundings as well as those around. A few patrons watched him, some giving nods of approval, others taking a more grave stance. He weaved through crowds silently and fluidly, his load had lightened considerably, he had ceased wearing the heavy furs and insulating layers under his armor since leaving Samiland as some of his fellow mercenaries had jokingly named Sarmania.

Damien entered the backroom, it was more fancy than the outer regions of the guild hall. When he entered he took a mental inventory of those gathered. Personally he preferred working those he at least knew well, but if this many people had been requested personally, he doubted if this particular task would be simple or short. He made his way to an empty corner of the room and took a seat. The assorted group of adventurers was an odd one, many incruscans, some tribal warriors, even guardians. The icing on the cake was the giant and lizard man. Quite the selection of adventures. He thought to himself, he remembered the block of dried cheese he has in his pack, he removed it and unwrapped it from the cloth that kept the common but tasty snack and reached down into his right boot, he removed a small, curved dagger. He spun it incredibly fast, his index finger that was occupying the ring in the hand grip provide the point for the blade to rotate. He cut a slice off the block with the karambit and popped it into his mouth. Aged cheddar, pretty good. he thought absentmindedly as he chewed and continued to survey people gathered in the chamber, donning a neutral expression as he stuck to his pensive silence.

Ayama · Jan 2, 2020

Iniko Fitaka l'Escroc

Thief - Saltimbanque - Ladies' Man

Male - Incruscan - Twenty Six

“Challenge me, but at your risk.
I never miss- ain't that right, miss?
I'll steal the pillow from your bed,
And all the dreams inside your head."

Location: Guild Hall

With: The group

Iniko awoke to an aggravating pounding in his head. He shut his eys more tightly, willing it away, as a surge of nausea threatened to overwhelm him. He flashed back to the night before, picturing it fuzzily in his mind's eye. There had been a game on at the tavern, and lots of beer, and-

A rustling at his side confirmed the third enjoyment of his evening, as the covers draped over a half-naked figure shifted slightly. Iniko smiled, recalling the beauty he'd somehow managed to seduce, even inebriated as he was. Animal magnetism, he thought to himself incoherently. As he lifted himself up onto one arm, the pounding redoubled, and Iniko winced. The person at his side shifted some more and groaned.

"Shaaaaaaade, who is that?" He blinked, his sluggish brain slow to process the information. She wanted to know who it was... So a person was making the sound... So the pounding wasn't in his head... So there was someone at the door!

A lot more alert now, Iniko slid out of bed, grabbed one of his knives, and slipped on his trenchcoat. It might seem a strange choice to some, but it was his best defense. He crept quietly to the door, ready to attack or flee. Before he could enquire as to the identity of the person battering repeatedly away, however, a barking voice came through the thin wood.

"Shade l'Escroc? Open up! Stately Keep Adventurers' Guild!" Iniko blinked. The SKAG? What could they want with him?

Cautiously, and with knife still at the ready in case this was a trick, he closed the rest of the distance and opened the door. In front of him was a SKAG solider (in full plate at this ungodly hour!) standing rigid and annoyingly tall and menacing, filling the entire frame. Iniko's tail twitched nervously as the man stared at him, dead-eyed.

"Shade l'Escroc?" he demanded again.

"Who wants to know?" Iniko asked warily.

"Sergeant Commander Tealeaf," the man barked. Iniko let out a snort of laughter. Tealeaf? The man narrowed his eyes in a glare.

"Yes, Tealeaf, he responded, unamused. Iniko hadn't realized he'd made the comment out loud.

"Uh, to what do I owe the pleasure, Sergeant Tealeaf?" he asked, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

"The Guild requires your presence at a meeting," he replied gruffly, thrusting a letter at him. Iniko took it gingerly, all levity forgotten, as a twinge of apprehension twisted his gut. What on earth could this be about? Whatever it was, it didn't bode well.

"What is this about?" he inquired.

"Be at the designated location at the appointed time," the man responded, blatantly ignoring him and adding menacingly "or else."

With that, he turned and marched away, armor clanking noisily down the hall. As other patrons' heads peeked out from their rooms to see what all the commotion was about, Iniko ducked back into his, taking off his coat and setting down his knife on the way back into bed, eyes glued to the letter in his hands.

*****

Iniko had read the letter several times, but felt just as confused as ever. A summon? From the Guild? For him? When it came down to it, he was just a common thief. Well, all right- not quite so common, he amended. He was a decidedly talented and gifted thief. Still, it didn't explain what the Guild might want with him, and it made him nervous to think about. Sure, they might pay well, but the maiming and death toll were both far too high for his liking.

He sat in bed and wondered what he should do. Could he simply ignore the summons? He doubted it. The Guild was rich and powerful. Their reach was long and they had eyes everywhere. If he refused to work for them, he had no illusions that they would probably not take kindly to it, and suddenly he could picture the cold, dark walls of a cell around him... He sighed, knowing he didn't have much of a choice. He would have to find out what this was about.

Even though he would happily have simply spent the rest of the day sleeping or otherwise lounging about (he was nocturnal, after all), at the appointed time he headed for the Guild Hall. The tavern was vast- he'd never been inside it before, preferring to stick to seedy little holes in the wall-, with a soaring, cathedral-like vaulted ceiling and a dragon head mounted on the wall. Despite his height, it made Iniko feel quite small.

Apparently, the Guild had passed along his description, because when he walked in the barkeep waved him down and referred him to a private meeting room. Feeling apprehension mounting as he penetrated further into the bowels of the Guild Hall, he slowed his pace as he crept forward, senses on high alert.

Before he had even reached the room, he could hear the commotion inside. It seemed like a fairly large group was gathered there, and was being fairly noisy already. Wondering what on earth awaited him on the other side of the door, he walked up and pushed it open in order to find out.

The room was large, with chairs scattered throughout, an impressive carved fireplace, and a table large enough to seat a full council. Seated or standing around said table were an impressive assortment of people: a fox-tailed Incruscan and a female cleric, a fearsome warrior of the Koa-Toh, a blond warrior carrying a skull, a large man with a large hammer, a lizardman and an actual giant, carrying a large bow, a young swordswoman and an imperial guard, a bear Incruscan Iniko felt like he might have seen in passing before, and a man sitting and eating cheese, seemingly oblivious to the ruckus.

Kan was there as well, looking as squirrely and ill-at-ease as ever, talking to himself. But what really caught Iniko's attention was the two women standing near the entrance of the room. One was a tall, proud Nordic warrior, with the expected fur and tresses. The other was an uncommonly beautiful woman, with dark, flowing hair and captivating golden eyes. Elated at this new development, Iniko grinned wide and practically bounded over to her.

"Milady!" he exclaimed with a flourish, "had I known that one such as you would be gracing us with her presence this day, I would have arrived far sooner. Please accept my humblest apologies and allow me to introduce myself- I am Shade l'Escroc; acrobat, entertainer, passably good singer, and gentleman thief, at your service!" He flourished a bow while keeping his head up and winking at her, hoping he'd made an impression, all thoughts of the summons temporarily forgotten (gentlemen thieves are easily distracted).

codedbycrucialstar

Pilgrim59 · Jan 2, 2020

Maroni
Sentinel of Trentino
「Adventurer Guild, Seedingstate, Empire of Light」

Interacted: Ye Mis-Trimmed Simerian Goat (

Soviet Panda )
Mentioned: Merid (

Inkles The Octo ), Eliza (

Noble Scion )

"Whoa- Hold on!" Maroni protested, as she found herself spinning in the air by Eliza's lift.

Despite her nonconforming facade, Maroni quite enjoyed the breeze where she spun. Eventually, the Regalian settled with a chuckle, giving into Eliza's embrace like a daughter to their maternal's bosoms. Her azure eyes widened, her cheeks flushed. It has been some time since she last saw her Imperial friend. As the latter spoke, Maroni studied her visage. It seemed that it was not so long ago, where they once roamed the Imperial Academy and spending countless nights in the library, deprived of respite. Through thick and thin, Maroni and Eliza was more or less on the same page. Seeing her friend again had brought back a long list of patented memories.

"Haha! I've been doing mightily fine my friend! I've missed you! Haven't had a chance to sit down properly and have a cup of tea since I finished my cleric studies, I fear I might've forgotten how to sit down at all! How fares thee, lady Maro?"

"At the behest of my obligations, I too, have yet to find proper times for respite. But a purpose has been entrusted to me, of which I will see through to the end." Maroni smiled brightly, holding Eliza's gloved hands in between her grasps.

"... And who might that be? A buddy to replace me? Certainly got a thing for tall folk, don't you?"

"Still as blatant in your way as ever. I did not chose to be bereaved of my stature you know! Hmf!" Maroni pouted, while taking in air. Her cheeks resembles that of a pufferfish.

Turning over and striking a prided stance, Maroni unfurled her hand, as she introduce her apprentice.

"This is my humble and diligent apprentice and Guardian Initiate. Merid Goldroot, the Light Bringer. Merid, this is Eliza Starborn of the Five-Oh-First Legion. We spent sleepless nights conjuring theses and refining our fighting abilities some two winters ago." Maroni familiarized Eliza and Merid with one another, before turning towards Eliza.

"While she isn't expected to replace you, I'm sure she'll make a fine Guardian to surpass us both in the future." she remarked.

There were certain truths in her induction of Merid. What was once a chance of encounter between two complete strangers, have now taken shape of an amiable master-disciple relationship. To Maroni, she deemed it proper to bring Merid to the light, rather than leave them to their own devices. Such was her way, despite her disciplinary codes. Even now, Maroni disputed her rights as a master. Was she worthy to preside over Merid? Or was she simply playing Master for the sake of projecting a positive image of herself?

While these thoughts are no stranger to the Regalian, Maroni remained placated. She harbored high hopes for her apprentice and what she was capable of. Catching a glimpse of Merid's eyes briefly, Maroni caught a certain gloom that she have yet to decipher to this very day. The Regalian's protective instincts became a habit as the years passed on by, particularly towards Merid. Where sentiments lingered, Maroni dispersed these contemplation, as she eyed the room briefly, before addressing Eliza.

"It does me good to see you well, my dear Eliza. What say you, to indulge me and Merid to some tea and crumpets, while we await our summoner's arrival?" Maroni proposed.

"Oh, why look at the wee killer we have here. Got to start 'em young, aye? But I don't think this is going to be something for you, little girl. Maybe go collect some herbs, I'm pretty sure I saw one on the board. It was pretty high up, though, so you probably didn't see it."

Before they could be on their way, a voice reached out to Maroni. While it could have been towards anyone, the particular remarks about her height has definitely caused a few veins to pop.

Turning towards her assailant's daggered words, Maroni's brows angled, her teeth sharpened, and her hands became fists.

"Those are some coarse words, friend. I reckon those weren't meant to be for me, correct? Because if it is, then I will not take kindly to those remarks, ye mis-trimmed Simerian goat! Hmff!" Maroni replied, with her hands on her hips, accompanied by a certain feisty look in her eyes.

The Regalian was surely ready to bite back.

Silver Wolf · Jan 2, 2020

Alastor Lupom
Location: Seedingstate Guild Hall, Private Room
Interactions: (Open)
Mentioned/Nearby:

Pilgrim59 (Maroni),

Ayama (Iniko),

Noble Scion (Eliza),

Kabboom (Garax and Keikling),

Soviet Panda (Otrygg),

Midrick (Damien),

ShadeAlucard (Sylvia & Jazmin),

RandomBlobMan (Kan),

Aryasaurus (Bryn'ai),

Inkles The Octo (Merid),

Epiphany (Brygita),

Inheritance (Brom),

Birdsie (Thrud)
(I swear this long list is hopefully a one time thing hope I didn't forget anybody)

Alastor was grateful to get out of his duller job for a while when he got the summons. Most of his work consisted of managing things such as what was found after raiding someone misusing the magic network, people's issues with the network, or even pieces of the network itself. Nonetheless his position was mediocre at best. It would be nice to get a change of scenery after the incident involving one of his failed experiments creating a mess in the study. Thankfully, nothing was damaged, but what happened still brought back some of the stigma against his casting style. Normally, after leaving for a while his peers would realize how reliable his methods could be and they shut up for a while until his ideas turn into a problem again. Alastor really hated working for the bureaucracy required in managing magic within the empire.

Yet, the wolf incurscan was beginning to have second thoughts once he stepped into the tavern. At first it came in the weird looks he may receive. After all, Alastor clearly wasn't dressed appropriately for field work. One would immediately be able to tell he was a scholarly sort or a bureaucrat. Once he handed the letter to the bar keep he began hearing whispers, but he kept ignoring them as he walked to the meeting room. Upon entering he turned to his guide and asked, "Did we take a wrong turn?"

The guide denied what Alastor said and shut him in the room. Already there was commotion and the obvious fact of how many people looked equipped for fighting made him confused and nervous, but more confused. The letter was very vague about what was going on, but who the hell would ask a scholarly sort like him to mingle with a group like this? Alastor shrugged and walked over to a seat to sit down. He leaned his staff gently on the table. The darkwood shaft matching the length of a spear found a balance and he felt slightly satisfied not having to adjust it too much.

The commotion had other plans for the delicate balance of the staff. Alastor almost immediately noticed this and extended his hand slightly as the staff started falling away from him and said, "Fluito statum autem maneat!"

On command the staff stopped falling and began levitating pointing upwards. Alastor gave a sigh of relief and just let his staff float once he was satisfied with the action it was maintaining. It would be able to do so for a time on its own, so he decided to let it be for now. It's not like floating an inanimate object storing some of the network's energy would stop doing so soon with what he did to it.

Kabboom · Jan 3, 2020

Keikling

Well. At least this was a fun bunch. A lot more heated and a lot less coordinated than Keikling's old caravan friends, but they certainly had the gear, and probably the skills to back themselves up in a pinch! Especially with the size of their weapons - the woman that Garax bumped into had a spear that would make a killer arrow, if shot from the Keiklingbow, though he'd probably have a hard time persuading her to let her weapon get tossed with such wanton disregard. It appears some of them knew each other, while others are as foreign to the area as Imperial architects are to Giant-friendly buildings. It was... rather homely, like home, except it was far away from home. Many different conversations were going on, with varying levels of friendliness. Very nice.

Farongar was about to join in, but then the note on the chimney block got weirdly shiny. Then it stopped being weirdly shiny and just became shiny.

GM

The letters magically emblazoned upon the polished limestone central chimney began to shine an iridescent blue, bright enough to blur the eyes if not properly shielded. The words rearranged themselves, twisting and turning, multiplying and infinitely dividing yet coalescing all at once, expanding across the entire room, crawling across the walls like spiders on their web. And with it, the chamber itself twisted, and turned. Not the machinations of a trap, no - no trap or elaborate defense mechanism would rely on such slow-moving glyphs or inefficient movements - this was something else.

The chamber changed itself. Nothing physically noticeable happened to the occupants, not even a light rumbling or chilling of the air - the result of a master-crafted spell.
The master-crafted wooden furniture took upon an iron form, with hard steel replacing the wood as the magical glyphs washed over it. The windows hardened as they turned opaque, as if they were freezing over. The people walking outside did not even notice the windows freezing over, which suggested that the spell had masked its transformation to the outside, or the windows never existed at all. Either way, the windows soon solidified into armored plates, complete with lanterns and some sort of Guild decorum.

Lastly, the fireplace and its chimney soon collapsed in an orderly fashion, folding away neatly: the chimney dematerialized and scurried up to the ceiling like a herd of ants scurrying away with loot, while the fireplace smoldered instantaneously and its burnt charcoal sunk seamlessly into the iron-plated floor, before disappearing entirely. The sole entryway into the chamber, the wooden door, solidified itself as an iron gate, complete with the grin of a carved lion’s face staring blankly into the room’s occupants.

“Sorry for being late, I had some tails to shake. Do excuse my unannounced shapeshifting of the room - I had to make sure no one would hear us, or bomb us all while we spoke,” A figure emerged through the iron door. Upon first glance, he would appear to be an elf male, donning a… most forgettable attire, with a face that, upon first glance, would appear relatively attractive, but soon reveals itself to be so indistinct that, if you were to see it in a public place, you would not remember his face once you looked away from it.

The face soon dissolved, like a magic spell, revealing the horribly marred true face of your summoner. He spoke quickly, his voice drowning out the words of anyone who might’ve had anything to say at the time. “Forgive me, for I must be quick - life here has become hard for me. Don’t mind my face, it’s hard to heal from the kind of damage my enemies deal.”

Clearing his voice, he resumed. “I am Alorias Ezbern, humble Guardian under the employ of the Guild. I’ve been here longer than some of you’ve been alive,” he coughed, before continuing, “Which is sad, but good for your goal. You are, sadly, not the first team I’ve assembled to fight the horrors that I face, but I will do my damned best to make sure you won’t face the same fate the first team did.”

A lengthy conference table emerged in the middle of the room, and the battered elf gestured everyone to gather near it. “To put it bluntly, you are not assembled for your overwhelming strength, or your excellent wit, or your omnipotent powers,” Alorias wheezed, as he walked towards the table. “The people before you had all of those, and they failed. I ask you to be more, if this land is to be safe.”

With a harrumph, he proceeded to get into the details in a hoarse voice. “I’ll keep this short. Seedingstate is being corrupted from the inside out. Lately, there have been murmurs, rumors of a deadly infestation. They’ve been increasing ever since, along with many accidents and attacks - the people say they’re isolated incidents, mere bandit attacks and shameful accidents - but I’ve spotted the pattern in these things. Assassinations, raids, thefts, bribes,... all over the place. The enemy we’re dealing with worships unparalleled destruction, and if they are to succeed, it will mean the total ruin of Seedingstate.”

“In short, we’re fighting a Darkborne cult. I will be with you whenever I can, but you must do the heavy lifting yourself.” Alorias finished up, with bated breath. Checking a mental clock, he stood more upright. “My time’s up. I must move now. My familiar will take care of the rest.” With a flick of his robe, a black cat and some notebooks flew from the interior of the cape. “Take care of them, Alastor.” The elf said stoutly, as his indistinguishable face-illusion materialized once more, as he trotted back to the door.

The cat landed on all fours, as cats usually do. This one sported a fancy collar, with its summoning sigil dangling from the neck. Looking perturbed, the being soon spun around and hissed. “Go shove a rock up your ass, ya shit!” The cat, identified as Alastor, spoke out with a high-pitched voice. The recipient of the insult, however, had already walked out of the chamber, closing the iron door behind him. With a sigh, the cat simply picked up the notebooks with its mouth, and hopped up to the big table.

“Forgive my master, will ya. He got mauled bad by these cult motherfuckers, and they’ve been sending spies and assassins after him ever since. I’m Alastor - a mere coincidence,” he gestured towards the mage Alastor, “and I’m here to answer things in place of my master, and to brief you on your first tasks.”

“So… any questions?”

Aryasaurus · Jan 3, 2020

B r y n ' a i • T o h - A e s c a •

The aquatic Incruscan sat there, hair still damp yet much more dry than what it had been when she had arrived, and surrounded by more people than she had willingly interacted with in months. It was not unpleasant to stay in their company, yet it wasn’t overly enjoyable either. She found aspects of them intriguing, perhaps even felt that some were worthy of respect - yet many also possessed flaws, and those clearly outweighed her incentive to bend to their social standards of who she should be. She was there to ply her skills, and nothing more, yet the rag-tag bunch were not without hope that she might be influenced to change her mind. The wind had yet to set their sails, so to speak, there would be plenty of time to see who would prove truly useful and who would set them back.

And suddenly everything changed. It was obvious to Bryn immediately that there was some kind of spell at work here; while she was no expert in magic, the way the room fluidly melted into something completely different could be nothing less than a powerful spell. She had gotten to her feet immediately, in part due to the surprise, watching as the glyphs washed across the room, freezing the glass windows and shifting into armored plates decorated with details of the guild and small lanterns.
Once the limestone fireplace had dissolved vertically up into the ceiling, the door - which had become a solid iron gate, molded with the face of a lion - opened loudly. The groan of the metal was so distinct and familiar, it resonated with her; the sound of clanging metal, the volly of arrows launching into the light of a blood red dawn, and the flag of the Empire high and mighty as boots marched upon foreign soil. Perhaps it had just been foreign to her though.

The voice had come before Bryn’ai had even the chance to turn and look, yet his words seemed odd and awkward; most land-walkers spoke in the strangest way, but she wasn’t entirely sure if it was her fault for misunderstanding, or theirs for using their janky words and way of speaking.
He said, “Sorry for being late, I had some tails to shake. Do excuse my unannounced shapeshifting of the room - I had to make sure no one would hear us, or bomb us all while we spoke."

His words were spoken in a coarse voice, rough like he had deep-throated a sanding stone until he began coughing more than just blood. At first glance, he might have been an elf - just a regular elf with the most forgettable appearance, so common and drab. Bryn’ai admittedly had to double-take, unsure if she had really seen him. Yet her eyes deceived her again, slightly but greatly changing his features; maybe his hair became darker, or his nose a little longer, or a beauty spot appearing on his cheek. It all changed, however it was in such a subtle way that you wouldn’t really notice unless you tried to pay attention to it. Personally, Bryn found it suspicious. There was no way that she could stand there and whoever he claimed to be, knowing fully well that everything he appeared to be was a lie - logically, who was to say his words weren’t just as fake as his enchanted appearance.

As if the stranger had hear her very thoughts, the illusion dropped it was obvious as to why he had used it in the first place. His face was horribly disfigured, grossly scarred and warped by a battle hard-fought. A part of her felt a twinge of guilt, yet she knew that seeing this allowed her to trust him: he was who she was waiting for, and so she listened.
He spoke more, introducing himself as Alorias Ezbern - a Guardian, not unlike herself. It was odd how he phrased it, claiming to have lived this life for possibly a lot longer than her own lifespan, yet she didn’t recall hearing a word about him, name or otherwise. It was true that it could have been because she had always kept to herself here on land, or simply because of her regular extended absences from the guild due to her own quests and such that she had been previously assigned.
Of course, yet again her mind reeled as Alorias spoke about this “first team”, a team that had been unsuccessful where he hoped they would prove to be capable. For the briefest moment, the aquatic Incruscan felt her own pride swell at the thought of being one that someone of such experience and importance would choose as someone so capable. It, in that moment, validated her; she wasn’t just some disgusting hybrid or, better yet, she wasn’t a flimsy woman. Looking around the room, it was clear that a lot of the others must have been as reliable as her - as strong, as powerful - however, a few looked far too green for a mission that spoke of such dangers.

And then he dropped the bomb.
“To put it bluntly, you are not assembled for your overwhelming strength, or your excellent wit, or your omnipotent powers,” Alorias wheezed, as he walked towards the table, causing Bryn’ai to frown. “The people before you had all of those, and they failed. I ask you to be more, if this land is to be safe.”

Bryn paused, silent and confused as she attempted to process exactly what he was trying to say. Her feeling of validation suddenly shattered, and she started to grow angry - not with Alorias, no, but with the humans. The Empire, with everyone that felt they had the right to treat her and every other Incruscan like shit. It left a sour taste in her mouth as she tried to process the fact that they didn’t want her for her skills and strength. But, if he didn’t want that from her, then what was it that he wanted?
She watched him, hanging on to each word as though one might be the extended lifeline she needed in order to combat whatever disaster was approaching them. She had to be ready, and as far as she knew, Alorias had the key to that success.

"The enemy we’re dealing with worships unparalleled destruction, and if they are to succeed, it will mean the total ruin of Seedingstate. In short, we’re fighting a Darkborne cult."

Bryn’ai felt her mind go blank. Darkborne. The word rang in her head and petrified her body to stone. It took her a moment to realised she had stopped breathing, and another to consider that this must have been fear. She was not overly familiar with the sensation, but she wasn’t given a chance to mull it over and let it sink in as Alorias announced that his time was up. With a swift movement, a cat and some notebooks flew out from his robes; the cat landing more elegantly than the books.
“Take care of them, Alastor.” The spell had come back into effect, casting the illusion over his marred features before leaving without a second glance or word.

“Go shove a rock up your ass, ya shit!”

Bryn’ai had to double-take at the knew voice. The cat… it spoke. And it continued to speak in such an amusing manner, but on serious subjects. What she pieced together was that there was a cult of Darkborne - though it wasn’t precisely clear if they were Darkborne, or humans and other races that were worshiping them. It didn’t matter to her what she had to kill, so long as the Empire was happy.

No one else seemed to want to speak first, or maybe they just hadn’t processed things yet. All Bryn’ai knew was that there was a powerful Darkborne menace and their eradication was being assigned to them. It was dangerous, and no short of terrifying; only a fool would be dumb enough not to feel fear when facing these beasts. Seeing as the room had stayed silent, Bryn chose to speak first. She understood the details as far as they had been explained, so there was no need to bat around the bush. “Just tell me what you need us to do,” she said to the familiar, not so much impatient, but more-so eager to start.

Basically mentions everyone - replying to Kabboom

Silver Wolf · Jan 3, 2020

Alastor Lupom
Location: Seedingstate Guild Hall, Suddenly Bomb Proof room
Interactions:

Kabboom (The magic cat Alastor)
Mentioned/Nearby: (Everyone is nearby)

Aryasaurus (Mentioned - Bryn'ai)

As soon as the room began morphing, a glint could be seen in the wolf incruscan's eyes and his black tail was wagging back and forth like a happy puppy as he watched some of the magic unfold. Whoever called them was clearly very skilled at controlling the environment itself. Wood to metal was rather hard to accomplish. It was something else to see whenever he got to witness powerful spectacles of magic only the truly talented would ever use on a whim. If he wanted to prepare a spell as such it would take weeks of preparation to make the system as efficient as possible. The scale was also impressive.

When their host had finally come to meet them. Alastor studied them up and down. A little shock ran over the caster's face when he saw the host's illusion vanish, revealing a truly damaged face. His wagging of the tail had fully stopped at the mention of their host, Alorias, being a guardian. It really made what just happened almost seem like a parlor trick which really shot Alastor's enthusiasm. After that he just listened carefully, but each sentence made the caster want to leave the room in fear of teetering on a point of no return. His fears came to be realized at the mention of a darkborne cult. Such events surely must have a tight lid kept under them. Everytime Alastor had worked on items related to the darkborne, secrecy was an absolute. Even the slightest peep before the issue was fully put to rest meant at best being demoted in a sense. At worst it typically meant temporary imprisonment until the matter was resolved.

Alastor fought back the urge to sigh at the end of Alorias being in the room. The thought of his last meeting with his father pushed him to remain seated and obedient. Then he finally submitted to his fate. It would be hard to see the resignation and sadness on the caster's hooded face, but when the cat appeared that changed a few things. He looked up from staring down when the familiar started speaking. While Alastor was indeed interested he held it back. He was about to ask a question when the Koa-Toh spoke.

"Actually, I'm curious about several things. First of all, forgive me for any possible misunderstandings as information is limited, but why not call upon a force of guardians only? If it's the darkborne themselves, then I imagine people trained and experienced in dealing with such beings is better than pulling non-guardians like myself into the mix. Second, how do you know it's the darkborne and not, forgive me for what I'm about to say, the natural result of the situation Seedingstate is in? Finally, assuming that this is an issue of the darkborne and it is the cause of Seedingstate's issues. I can only assume one reason for being called here."

At the final sentence Alastor's face turned serious as he shot a scrutinizing glare at the cat. He was watching every movement of the creature and listening to even empty breaths that came out of its mouth. He internally prepared himself for what he was about to say, but if his hunch did indeed prove true it would perhaps shift the entire conversation. "Most of my research as a mage and caster operate outside of the network. Not even my peers know how my methods work, but they know of them when I do indeed use them. Most would consider my casting methods folly, unless Alorias or yourself do know something of how they work. In short I want to know why I was chosen, and if possible tell me or anyone else here how much you may have unceremoniously peered into information considered private."

Alastor grabbed his staff and waited for a response. He was dead serious about what he had accused. There would, to the normal mind, be many reasons to not choose Alastor for the current situations. He isn't a guardian, his methods are considered slow by almost all his peers, and he had no experience with combat. Why in the world would someone want him helping against darkborne? Just because he was an incruscan didn't mean he was a damn fighter. Sure, an incruscan being a mage could be virtually unheard of to some, but what worried Alastor the most was whether his research should be considered compromised. In which case he had more pressing matters than darkborne. He had to protect his work from being claimed.

Soviet Panda · Jan 4, 2020

*"Oh, seo hwelp jyrs feangs! I like this **wencel!" Otrygg all but shouted, a wide grin on his face, unaware of the potential danger he was in. But before the situation could escalate any further, the room changed around the gathered group. Otrygg was unphased, not because he wasn't surprised but because everything had happened to quickly for his mind to come up with a proper expression for what was happening. And in the end, the wide grin had not left his face as the elf came in. And there it would remain as the elf quickly went over why they had all been gathered.

That smile had just begun to fade when the elf Alorias took his leave, but quickly returned when the cat spoke. "Ha! A talking cat! What other tricks an it do?" But no one answered his question, as a fish lady spoke followed by the wolf boy. "I can answer both those! We need to find us this cult thing, and kill 'em. And we were told to be here because we're better than that first group, of course!"

After giving his own, and most likely unwanted, answer to the two questions, Otrygg turned to the cat. "So, what is a cult? Does it got big teeth? Razor sharp scales? Claws the size of long-knives!" Otrygg, clearly, had never heard the word 'cult' before.

Interactions:

Pilgrim59

Aryasaurus

Silver Wolf

Kabboom
*Oh, so the pup has fangs!
**child

Fantasy Fading Flames 2 Main RP

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The God-Emperor of Mankind

Proverbs 17:9

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