|
|
Sunday, September 19th, 2004
| |
2:43 pm - Been a long time...
|
quickblade
|
OOC: A little background first: this story is almost a year old. Last updated in October of last year, it involves several characters and players. The varied characters were grouped in ones, twos, and threes, with the intention of unifying them against a common foe, the city-state of Bemmon. Bemmon, for reasons which would have been revealed later, was in the process of 'collecting' nonhumans and beings with strange powers in their dungeons. For full details on what had transpired, check the calendar entries for 2003. The characters I had involved were: Terlene, who had been accompanying a healer named Shienta and was captured by the priests who control Bemmon; Redbeard, a dwarf, who was passing through Bemmon with his human ward, Nyna, who were captured by Bemmon's Home Guard, led by a man named Valen, under the pretenses of not having paid an entry tax; and Nyna, Redbeard's human ward, a young girl who loves dresses and does good in her studies. As Terlene was in a cell with others, I am going to focus on Redbeard and Nyna, until either Terlene's cellmates post, or until it's obvious that no one cares anymore. :)
Nyna's lower lip quivered. "I'm scared, Uncle Redbeard...!"
The dwarf glowered at Valen. "Let her go, dog. Or are you scared to take me on fair?"
Valen smiled. "I'm not scared of you. I just see no reason to waste my time fighting you when I have a much simpler solution at hand." He smiled wider as the scattered guards started closing in on Redbeard. "I suggest, friend, that you give up now. Even if you somehow manage to beat my men, I've still got your girl." He pressed the dagger tighter against Nyna's throat, creasing the skin but not breaking it.
"If you hurt one hair on her head, you won't live to regret it," Redbeard said, his voice dangerously quiet.
The guards drew their weapons. Redbeard tightened his grip on the spear. Valen's grin twisted. "And just how are you going to stop me?" he asked in an even quieter voice. He slowly pressed the blade to her throat, drawing a thin line of blood.
"NO!!" the dwarf raged, and charged the guards. Taken by surprise by his unexpected speed, one guard fell with a mortal wound in his stomach, and a second barely got his sword up in time to deflect the butt as it angled for his eye.
More surprised was Valen, as the thin line of blood he drew somehow moved up his blade to his hand, and then to his arm. He pulled back from Nyna, screaming, as the blood thickened, and sprouted wicked looking tentacles which were wrapping themselves around the Captain of the Guard. As the tentacles touched his flesh, it melted away, causing a noxious smoke to fill the air. Panicking, he stumbled back up the stairs, screaming as he went. The stunned guards watched with fear and amazement.
Not so, Redbeard. He knew what would happen when her blood was exposed to air, and took advantage of the guards' reactions to cut two more down before they realized what was happening. The remaining guards, overcoming their fear, attacked. the valiant dwarf fought well, but was no match for eight well-armed and trained guardsmen. They soon had him backed against a wall, his spear broken, and they still outnumbered him six-to-one.
"Stop!" came a shrill cry. Nyna stood where she had fallen, Valen's dagger in her hand ready to open a slice on her forearm. The thin wound on her throat had scabbed over already. "Go away! Or I'll cut myself, and show you first hand what happened to your leader!"
OOC: This is my first writing in a long time, so any comments on the actual writing are welcome, as are any on the story. :)
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Thursday, September 16th, 2004
| |
4:11 am - OOC: on the way. . . *huff huff huff*
|
|
| Sunday, September 12th, 2004
| |
7:02 pm - Merchant-ing...
|
lysanderfoxfire
|
He entered the squat-looking building with a grin on his narrow face and a funny glint in his eye. With a whistle, the heavy door swung open and slammed against the wall that held it up. The lantern he carried--hanging from a long, twisting willow branch over his muscular left shoulder--shone brilliantly through brightly colored panels of intricate glass. The gratework that spiraled at the top of the light created myriad spiderwebs of light against the dark ceiling that walked like a mirror image of the man across the room. Kaia placed his large case atop one of the low tables, disregarding any looks his activity might muster, though the room seemed depressingly empty. Swinging his lantern-stick up and over, he stuck in gracefully into a part in the floorboards and it stood stock-straight next to the big brown leather case.
*snick*
*snick*
*ping*
The case swung open, and with a flurry of hands and fingers, not to mention a turned back, expanding shelves stair-stepped out from the box and toward the ceiling. He shuddered, his red hair swinging with a happy wind, and arranged his goods.
With a toss of his head and a bright, attractive charisma, he ordered a dark ale, walking to the bar. Inside his case, stacked artfully atop the tiers, and spread out on the table around it were hundreds of exotic colored glass bottles, lanterns, pendants, windchimes, dishes, goblets, decanters, and fingurines. The light of the fire was swept into the crystalline depths of these sculptures of glass and curved through the air in a thousand ways. The whole scene painted the room in a rainbow that matched the colors in Kaia's eyes as he strutted back to the table. One more movement of his lithe arm brought a hand-made sign to rest atop the open case:
For Sale, Trade, or Whatever Else You Have to Offer
He pulled out a leatherbound book from his pack and swung his feet onto a neighboring chair, burying his face into the story.
current mood:  anxious
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
2:10 pm - Burnie, Burnie, Burnie...
|
anya_rose
|
Slipping through the door after the midget a petite young women appeared, covered in a thick black cloak. She shivered from the cold outide, her jade eyes peering out at her surroundings around her. The girl made her way to the fireplace, sliding her slender hand near to warm them. Slowly, she relaxed, taking her surroundings. The tavern seemed safe enough, for now at least.
Enjoying the warmth of fireplace, she stared almost fascinated by the flames. So beautiful...
She slipped back her cloak revealing long blond hair, streaked with sable, with sable underneath as well. She looked no more than fifteen or sixteen with a virginal aura around her which many maidens were accustomed to. Whether she was or not was another thing.
current mood:  apathetic
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Thursday, May 20th, 2004
| |
11:33 pm
|
demoncaller
|
When the doors of the tavern opened, a few people looked to the door to see who was coming in. At first, they saw no one; it wasn't till they lowered their eyes a bit that they saw the oddly dressed... midget...thing... waddle into the bar. The tiny creature had long pointy ears, a brown button nose, and a spunky red ponytail, looking all the world like an adorable little girl . The shiny black armour and razor-sharp scythe strapped to her back destroyed the little-girl impression once and for all.
The little creature went over to the bar, climbing up onto a stool to the right of the bartender. "Meadaru please;" she said in a tiny little voice, placing two gold pieces on the counter; "I need to wet me pipey-wipies a bit." The bartender obliged, sliding a shotglass-sized mug of mead to his tiny guest with a grin; "Hope this ain't too much for ya, Kaigo."
"Are you kidding?" Kaigomaigo replied, feigning offense, "I can drink two, maybe three of these easy-weesy, you know that. I got a gut if steelaru!" She chugged her drought in one gulp, slamming her mug on the bar with gusto. "Another one, my good man!" As she was fumbling in her sachel for some more coin, she could feel someone's eyes upon her. Turning around, she noticed a red haired woman looking at her like she had two heads. "Ya see something funny-wunny or what?"
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
10:09 pm - OOC Entry: Been away for a while
|
demoncaller
|
Umm...what plotlines are going on these days? It's been over a year since I last posted in this community...
Quick char background. My character is a cute little mage named Kaigomaigo. She is a Tarutaru, a race of knee-high, super-smart magic users who look a little bit like Muncheechees (anyone who plays Final Fantasy XI will know exactly what I'm talking about). She specializes in destructive magic, but is also well-trained with heavy weapons; her primary weapon is a scythe (read: FFXI Dark Knight/Black Mage). She is approximately 300 years old, and comes from the Taru kingdom of Windhurst.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Thursday, May 6th, 2004
| |
11:28 am
|
|
| Tuesday, April 27th, 2004
| |
9:47 am
|
crimson_soul
|
Falling
That's what it always feels like coming here, without even the benifit of knowing that you were falling towards something. Cinder looks around at the plane of air. He said he was running from something, now all I need to do is find the right people to tell it to andthat will be one less problem for on that plane. And if I play it just right, they'll even owe me a favor.. Cinder grins even as she shivers in the cold wind that fortells the coming of a storm. I'd better get started.
"Spirits of Air, I beseech thee. Here my call and harken. One who wishes an audience with djinn calls." And then she waits, as calmly as one can when down and up refuse to stay the same direction.
|
|
(2 comments | comment on this)
|
| Tuesday, April 20th, 2004
| |
10:22 am - With a glimmer.....
|
realneardead
|
Out of a puff of smoke emerges a sleek raven. Although this is no ordinary raven. This raven stands 3 feet tall and as it opens its beak to release a deafing cry, a slight trickle of crimson reflects in the nearby light. The cry echoes through the land and seems to shake the town. The bird struts forward and spreads it wings, almost as if attempting to lay claim to the territory.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Friday, April 16th, 2004
| |
1:06 am - would you like to play a game?
|
missapril0
|
Several loud clicks and Adabella pushines the door open
"yes I know i have to get out of there..."
She seems oddly calm as she reaches for another cigerette
" now I personaly plan on helping everybody by tracking odw What's his face that is supposedly in charge here. and i can tell you, it's no elf.
Trust me i can feel those things and no, no feeling and don't know too many elves that can play with space time dimentionality. cause this place is a whole lot bigger then you'd think from outside"
pushing the door closed behind her as she looks down the hall way as if she's debating which direction to take
" And i'll warn you right now, my little show outside probably went unnoticed which would be irrating to mes, but there is a chance it didn't, and well then someone else will be irrated."
SHe stands quietly for a monet tilting her head back and forth then suddenly turns facing looking right into her eyes, Adabella's voice low, calm and just slightly serious.
"Not to mention the fact that I WILL be getting to the bottom of this the fastest way possible by any means nessary. Which includes having sent a messge that will
a) get a represntaive a god here rather quickly
b) a god of the underworld here VERY quickly
c) was interecpted and would involve a vampire that makes me look like I have a GREAT attitude.
or d) i have no idea
but I want answers and I'll get then any way I have to , because i have things to and people to kill so I kinda want get this done"
She slowly smiles as she turn and starts walking the oppisite way from which came
singing
"Little Red Riding Hood
I don't think little big girls should
Go walking in these spooky old woods alone...."
current mood:  devious
|
|
(1 comment | comment on this)
|
| Thursday, April 15th, 2004
| |
4:50 pm - ANGER
|
1000_faces
|
A huge gaping hole appears beneath the human girl, and she disappeared.
Selling a secret....?
Qirtaia starts with amazement. The girl is planeshifting to the plane of Air! She's selling him out! With quickness he blinks his eyes and tries to shift along behind her. The air wavers around his inert form, but nothing. The grainy environment of time and space whoosshing past him did not appear.
"NOTHING!?" Again he tries, this time using a spell. Nothing.
He roars in frustration. And in fear. Once they found where he was there was nothing more that could be done but begin a chase through time, through the fabric of matter, across planes that mere humans could never traverse. He shuddered, and looked around the room for something to punish. Light wind from the bitch's portal fluttered the silk curtains and made the peacock's feathers dance. It squawked in giddiness and waddled away. Qirtaia squinted his eyes, which were red and filling with rage, and the peacock began rapidly pecking at itself--like some invisible insect had crawled beneath it's down and was driving it mad. It pecked as screechedas it's own beak pierced it's soft skin. Blood began spattering it's beautiful feathers. It's tail fanned out, and soon was dotted in a morose pattern of dark red. Before long, the squealing stopped and the bird flopped, dead to the ground.
Still it wasn't enough. Qirtaia remembered the red-haired vixen he caged in one of the storerooms.
She'll do nicely.
current mood:  rejuvenated
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
9:21 am
|
private_lies
|
I've won. Callie laughs, delighted. "Thank you. I can't wait to see my mom again. I know with your help I can return home." And she sits down, pulling her flute out of her belt. "Now I shall play for you." She puts the flute to her lips and blows. The air in the clearing stills as her music dances sound into the night. The music lifts, falls, entreats, dismisses, loves, hates, and a thousand other things. The recital lasts an hour, yet to all who listen it seems but a minute. As the last note dies, the silence that follows is absolute. No bird, nor bee, nor any other living thing dares to disturb the quiet. She puts the flute away, nods quietly to Devlinthen lies down to sleep. The night stirs, and the sounds begin anew. And from the shadows, a girl watches.
current mood: triumphant
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
9:11 am
|
crimson_soul
|
"At the moment, selling a secret." Shian bows formally and drops thru the floor where a glowing circle suddenly appeared. Wind gushed out of the circle, and a look of surprise, then understanding, then fear all flash across Qirtaia's face. And then she is gone.
Shian falls thru the circle, time and space carving away from her path like waves of colored sand. Out of near infinate planes, she is searching for one in particular. She was there by accident last time, this time she must make it there on purpose. Her eyes search out the realm of air. His words come back to her like a sweet song. "I am here because I am being hunted." That means he is worth something to someone, and if he's hiding that someone is far more powerful than me. I just hope the others can hold him there and don't die before I get back with help. Hopefully Oh! there's my exit. A cirlce of blue light appears below her locked into what looks like grey-blue sand swirling and violent. Shian falls thru.
OOC: Silgah is dimentional anchored at the moment. He cannot leave the plane he is on. Enjoy. :)
current mood:  determined
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
10:02 am - Echo, echo, echoooooooooooo-oooooooo
|
|
| Tuesday, April 13th, 2004
| |
4:31 pm - Tears.
|
thatboomerkid_1
|
Pale, angular arms of wiry strength close around the girl and bear her aloft - a wide grin breaks through the clouds of confusion and anger on Devlin's brow. A million emotions fight for control.
Joy triumphs.
The little girl is held tightly to the alien sorcerer's chest, his tears running into her hair. He stands, still holding her little form - strange, bony hands like steel cables catch her as she falls backward. Devlin's tiny black eyes meet Callie's. The two stand in the dusk-lit forest in an tight embrace, her feet dangling high above the ground.
A few clicks from the gem as Devlin fights for control of his emotions.
"Her servant could never hate Callie. Only love, abundant."
He hugs her to himself again. More clicks.
"Hate, blackest hate, has he for those who defile child. Sword, wind, agony and death to those who take Lady Callie's virtue; bitterest hate reserved before for only Slur, Herr Redding and Rysha of the Hellgrove. But to his Lady, he gives this: the greatest of adorations and most binding of Oaths."
Kneeling now, setting the tiny feet of his lady once more upon the earth:
"On the soul of Cleverest Nye, father of Devlin,
on the soul of Lazlo Whitemane, grandfather and teacher,
on the soul of Talus Endorovich, honored master and Lord of Hiregaard,
on the soul of Cyronax, Prince of Winter's Chill,
on the soul of Devlin himself, apprentice and servant to Ezekiel Stormchilde, Master of House Thunderclap, whose great name and great deeds all wicked souls fear, I will let no harm come to you again. Let those who menace Callie weep and tremble at this Oath:
Lady Callie's mother will see her daughter unharmed, or I will be undone."
|
|
(1 comment | comment on this)
|
| Sunday, April 11th, 2004
| |
1:16 pm
|
1000_faces
|
Insolence.
"You'd be wise to keep your tongue. In this place, with the company I keep, someone else is always willing to keep it for you. The truth of the matter is simple, and I think a bit pathetic. Your pin's master I know of, by name and reputation. It is slight knowledge for you to learn I have little to do with him and his...parlor tricks."
He takes a long pull of a cup of wine.
"As far as Olidimarra is concerned, you are probably a petty pawn in some cosmic game of chess. A word of advice: pawns would be wise to stay out of the way of rooks and kings. I am a businessman myself, so I can say with pride I'm not even on the board. Pity though. You ask me why I'm here, and I answer you: business. I'm continuing business as usual, with a few minor issues to deal with. Clandestinely, I'm sure you're aware. Thieves like yourself usually are. Yet..." he clears his throat, "I like you. You're not weak in the knees with me, and I wonder if there isn't some deal you might be willing to strike with Silgah the Swift."
He squints his eyes.
"Whatever information you're seeking is mine to give, if you'd ask the right questions. I'm here because I'm being hunted, much like yourself, I think, and this form is just a formality. I really, honestly, have no other motive for taking Silgah's identity."
Laughs.
"And yes, I have sold the flesh around here to the highest bidders because I have bills to pay. This is not how I usually engage myself, but one does what one must. Now how can I help *you*, Cinder?"
current mood: rejuvenated
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
1:15 pm
|
lysanderfoxfire
|
The darkness lets up as Akhena ascends the stone staircase. Where Amaya was in relation to her current position she cannot guess, but knows there are more important things to lend her thoughts to.
Cinder is in trouble, I can feel it.
Wary, cautious of every step, she makes it to the rickety door atop the steps. It clacks open noisily when she barely touches it, and the air pressure seems to change. The stale smell of the cellar whooshes out.
Staircases are neither here nor there...
Peeking her head out, she sees naught but a wide hallway, with ceilings much to high to be an actual part of the building. It must be some kind of illusion. The people here all seem to have something to hide. Now, if I was a little red-haired woman with a penchant for mischief, where would I be?
The alcove the priestess finds herself in merely sits beneath the surface of the surrounding walls, like a niche. She looks upn at the molding. Faces twisted in masks of laughter and joy look ghoulish and remind her of a jester. Before her lies the hallway. She strains to hear anything.
A drop of water.
A drop of water.
A drop of water.
Evidently someone has a leak. Without further ado, she spins across the floor like a low-lying monsoon, taking to the walls and flattening her back out. Akhena moves, eyes stone grey, along the smooth surface. Cinder would be where Silgah was, there was no doubt about that. But finding Silgah was the problem all along.
An explosion is heard from outside the building, and sulfurous smoke creeps from the cracks in a door far down the hallway. She can just barely make out the sounds of grumbling. Deciding to throw her caution to the winds, she just kicks up her heels and runs to the door. When she reaches it, small clicks can be heard from the keyholes.
Risking capture: "Who's there?"
The voice inside answers gruffly, and Akhena knows she's found Adabella. "We have to get you out of there. Cin--I mean, Shian--needs our help!"
current mood:  awake
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
10:10 am
|
private_lies
|
Callie gets up and walks cautiosly over to him standing close but not touching. She looks at him with hurt eyes that have seen worse but can't stop caring. "Ohh, Devlin, you are not a monster to me. And you need a hug." With a smooth movement her arms encircle him, tears falling down her face. "You can't defile someone who has been through that pain already" she whispers as he notices his magic remains with him in spite her touch. "do you hate me now?" she asks between her tears.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Tuesday, March 9th, 2004
| |
2:58 pm - The Arrival of Andryan Jae
|
ysabelllives
|
The tavern looks inviting to her as she approaches, but in her current state of mind most anything would.
Upon seeing her, one notices a mature woman. And mature is a kindly way of excusing the encroaching streaks of grey in her hair and slightly weathered look of her face. She looks perhaps a little older than she is and the smell of stale drink about her lets you know why. In her youth she might have been lovely. Her hair, though faded somewhat now, is still a rich, dark red and her face would be pretty enough, if she smiled. Her posture leaves something to desire, but the two-handed sword strapped between her shoulder blades might lead one to believe that she could handle herself well, if she desired.
Aside from the sword she carries little else. Her clothing is old but well made. It semes to be holding up, though clearly not by any care she herself puts into it. She is dressed like someone who fights for a living. A long-sleeved grey tunic of a heavy material. Black pants over a pair of worn, dirty boots that look as if they would reek were she to take them off. Her sword belt. Nothing remarkable.
Around her neck is something of interest. She wears a strange pendant on a black cord. When she is paying attention she keeps it tucked in to the tunic, though she doesn't seem secrative about it either. Most likely she would tell you what it means.
She stumbles a bit as she makes for the door. Her footing isn't steady and she moves her lips as if holding an uninteresting conversation with someone close by. She is clearly drunk.
She opens the door and stands on the threshold, peering at the other patrons of the tavern.
OCC: First post. Thought I'd give this a shot. I haven't done any online gaming in years, but this looked like a neat community. Let me know if I've done something horribly wrong or if I need to post stats or something. Thanks!
|
|
(2 comments | comment on this)
|
| Thursday, April 8th, 2004
| |
2:11 pm - Explanations in the gloom.
|
thatboomerkid_1
|
A few clicks. The dark, angular form of the sorcerer stops in the breaking of his fast, pulling the last of his mouthful of raw meat and beetles into his mouth.
Slowly he sets his plate on the earth, and takes a sip of water from his wooden bowl.
Devlin's eyes catch Callie's for a moment.
"Lady Callie . . . your servant is bound. Bound to a mystic path of great power, and of great sacrifice."
The alabaster mage speaks slowly, the black gem clicking as the thaumaturge struggles for the words to make his struggle clear.
"Devlin is will-worker. Magician - and yet a spellbook he does not use. His power comes from blood, from service to Powers of flame, water, and wind, from bargains made and maintained. He commands forces of primal energy - in exchange for restrictions to his behavior, restrictions to his abilities."
Devlin lowers his eyes.
"By laws of my Lords, my blood is unclean. Stained with alien energy and thick with corruption unhealthy to the Tai-Pan of the Ancient Realms. In addition to act of devotion each sunset and dawn, the supplication to each Wind, Devlin follows three great rules; in following these rules, my covenant is bounded. In breaking them, my magics fail."
Without looking up, Devlin raises three long, pale fingers, thumbs crossed upon his palm. His hand shines pale grey in the little light of Callie's fire.
"Three rules set down to me by my teacher, Ezekiel Stormchilde; made clear to me by my mentor, Talus Endorovich; proven to me by my friends Kru & Sim'je."
A hard swallow - Devlin is near to tears.
"Devlin may not touch the flesh of a virgin, lest he defile it; he may not eat during the day, lest he devour the sun; he may not kill any who have not spilled blood themselves, lest he destroy an innocent life."
Little black eyes swelled with tears lock with Callie's.
"Devlin will not touch Callie for all the worlds - Callie will be defiled, Devlin's magic will fail for a week and a day, and the Men of Harmony will find Devlin and his Lady - Devlin cannot protect her without his spells, without Koku, without the mastery of wind, flame and water that is his birthright."
Devlin grins a little, an oily silver tear running down his cheek.
"Devlin has not hugged a child for nearly a century, since his training began with the Stormchild in his home of Thunderclap. No hug. Sometimes he misses it. Devlin wishes he could hold Callie and say that all is better - that mother and father will be all right. Instead, he admits he is monster - tells innocent that he is killer and of foul blood. Devlin's life is not much fun."
|
|
(2 comments | comment on this)
|
|
|
|
|
depressed
confused