~Quest to End the Wars of Oblivion~
OOC Information:
Considering that I'll be leaving this RP open for anyone to hop in, and seeing how it appears to be the only RP of its nature on the site, I decided to begin with some information regarding how it will work.
This RP is a choose your own adventure type of RP, or quest RP as some may know it, and operates much as a book of the same name. Entries will be written, and the players simply pick the path which will be followed from the options presented in the entry. In this case, the choice will be done via voting for the option the players prefer. Should there be a tie, I will pick one of the most voted options and go with that.
There will only be one character, collective to all the players who participate in this RP, even if they hop in later or eventually leave the RP.
The RP will essentially have two parts- in the first, the votes will determine the backstory of the character, and shape up details about how that character ends up being. The second part will be the actual story of the roleplay. Any further information will be in the actual OOC.
Seeing the darkened ground and the virtually destroyed and entirely tipped over carriage on the side of that mountain road, which itself had a new coloring matching the ground (and the same putrid smell to match as well), Gurrond was undoubtedly glad that he had brought boots that day. The ashes were glued to the soles and rising in the air like sand and smoke, but worse was when one of his feet got stuck in a stray limb or hand still grasping up as if attempting to rise from the grave. Even then he refused to look down, as much as he could. There was no guarantee he could stomach making it to the center of that blackened ground otherwise.
"All shall be reached. You who are apart, by the touch of our shared kin are linked to mine." Two discs of white light formed themselves in front of the man's open palms as he raised his arms and a brief breeze gusted into his coat. He then opened his eyes and commanded: "Trace!"
Strings of the same white light as the discs began to form from them, waving up and down through the air as if swimming in it, before descending to a point further ahead. Gurround was about to take a deep breath, but stopped before actually inhaling, his face contorting after a sniff. His mouth closed and puffed like a squirrel, and finally he followed to where the strings led him, and knelt down where they converged. He looked once quickly to the sky, clouded by what might soon be a rainstorm, but for now drew his gaze, at least more comfortably than anything below would. His eyelids closed and finally, he looked and reached down, scouring the ashes with his fingers until they felt the still semi-heated metal. He grabbed whatever it was with his pinky finger and ring finger, as he had been taught.
He was now holding a small circular metallic object with star-shaped holes spread in a ring around the center, and inscriptions forged into the other parts. A coin, but not just any kind of coin, this particular coin had been made into a magical tool set to trigger a wave of flames in all directions upon activation. A common use of the shattering principle, but not one whose deadliness should be underestimated.
Now came the hardest part. Gurrond put down the coin where he was relatively confident he could find it again later without relying on magic to do so, then began digging into the ground. His arm pulled back by instinct when he felt what remained of ribs, and finally started coughing as he was no longer able to hold his breath. He almost covered his mouth with his hand, before recalling that said hand had also been digging through the ashes and opting to cover it up with the back of his arm instead. He reached back again and kept searching until he found what he was looking for: a tiny piece of mostly burnt, but still distinctly non-human material. Given the proximity to the remains and to the place where he found the coin, it had indeed most likely once had been part of the perpetrator's clothes.
The material appeared as several linked hexagons of a color somewhere between light blue and grey. They were evidently tough, but a little wave showed they wobbled with ease. The remaining fabric on it was more loose strings than anything, and there were signs of loose light brown matter in several places. Gurrond would still confirm it with magic, but even without it he almost certain that this was stonewood hermit shell, a common material in some villages near the location of the explosion, often woven with strands of fabric whose color matched the season, so as to appear less armor-like. But if the perpetrator wore such poor man's clothing, then...
"They might not even have been able to read what the tool's inscriptions were." His widened as he realized something, however. "Wait...the hermit's village's woods are too dense for anyone to go around in carriages."
His breath sped up as he frantically looked around, his eyes darting allover the place and ignoring the twisting of his stomach as he digged everywhere he could, careful only not to accidentally bury the coin he found earlier. No corpse, no fragment of clothing left or any tool suggested the kind of wealth that would be needed to purchase or really use a carriage ride with escorts: Whoever had been riding the carriage was not amongst the corpses!
"All shall be reached. You who are apart, by the touch of our shared kin are linked to mine. Trace!" The same discs of white light as before appeared, and the same strings emerged, but this time much faster. They swam under the carriage, and Gurrond sprinted towards it, placing his hands at the egde. "Raise!"
The light from the spell emanated from under the carriage as the magical circles formed in his hands and helped pull up the side of the carriage. There was a large hole and much debris, dark like charchoal, but under it there were two figures embracing one another. There were burns and wounds all over their body, but by some miracle they could probably be treated if an expert in the principle of rejuvenation handled it. An expert like Gurrond.
He approached to examine them more closely. The two who were buried under the carriage couldn't be more different, except perhaps in their similar-seeming ages. One was male and another female, one looked wealthy (probably the owner of the carriage, most likely) and another not so much.
One was alive, and another was no more.
Choice 1: Are you a boy or a girl?
A) Male
B) Female
Choice 2: How wealthy were you?
A) Very Wealth / Rich
B) Somewhere around the middle / Average
C) Poor / Dirt Poor
Choice 3: What age group do you belong to? (note: remember that is backstory time. Regardless of your pick here, the character will be at least one age group older by the time the actual story starts)
A) Toddler
B) Young Child
C) Teenager
D) Young Adult
E) Middle Aged
A) Male
B) Female
Choice 2: How wealthy were you?
A) Very Wealth / Rich
B) Somewhere around the middle / Average
C) Poor / Dirt Poor
Choice 3: What age group do you belong to? (note: remember that is backstory time. Regardless of your pick here, the character will be at least one age group older by the time the actual story starts)
A) Toddler
B) Young Child
C) Teenager
D) Young Adult
E) Middle Aged
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Tags: @siej @stone
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