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Sorry for being inactive, I recently got a new job and my schedule has been a bit messy. Ichtys, you mentioned a collab session on a wednesday, was it the 19/11 wednesday or 26/11? If i missed the session, could you give me a summary of points discussed please. Ill post as soon as possible
Who is Viola? As a Viscountess, where does her influence come from? Is she popular only among nobles or do the general Coven have the same respect for her? Judging by the composition of our little group I think Vincent is the real target here. The rest of the group are just collateral, being at wrong place at the wrong time... This sounds like a ploy to destroy D'Cerf blood relatives. Also, this is happening in the middle of the night, right? Right after a catastrophe at an event where everyone in the Coven would have attended. How did they managed to assemble all these nobles given the circumstances? Who are the nobles that are attending this trial? Do they all have the same motives - get rid of D'Cerfs? The whole situation is too organised to be an impromptu reaction. Ichthys, you said that some of them are neutral, but if this were planned, the majority would be of the " get rid of the heirs and steal the throne" mentality, and they would be in on the agenda. The majority would sway the neutral ones. We cant talk our way out of this by pleading innocence, its probably rigged. Trial by combat would also be rigged.
How about this. What if we turned the nobles on each other? This Viscountess, depending on her status, can be our ticket out. Given the option to speak about the happenings during the ritual, we can tell her exactly what happened during the rituals. Maybe we can report of an epiphany from the occult about changing times and enemy in the blankets, of a witch that would leave a trail of blood to control the throne and once seated on the top, this witch would turn on her own people, etc. etc. One of us, unrelated to Vincent, can accuse her of deceiving the other nobles into giving her the throne. Those involved in the plot will start to think twice. They know the Viscountess is a Machiavellian backstabber, what if, when she gets into power, she turns on her former supporters in fear of them conspiring against her? All followers of backstabbers will have these little seeds of doubt in their minds. We can feed the doubt .
How about this. What if we turned the nobles on each other? This Viscountess, depending on her status, can be our ticket out. Given the option to speak about the happenings during the ritual, we can tell her exactly what happened during the rituals. Maybe we can report of an epiphany from the occult about changing times and enemy in the blankets, of a witch that would leave a trail of blood to control the throne and once seated on the top, this witch would turn on her own people, etc. etc. One of us, unrelated to Vincent, can accuse her of deceiving the other nobles into giving her the throne. Those involved in the plot will start to think twice. They know the Viscountess is a Machiavellian backstabber, what if, when she gets into power, she turns on her former supporters in fear of them conspiring against her? All followers of backstabbers will have these little seeds of doubt in their minds. We can feed the doubt .
Flowryde adjusted the blanket so that it draped around his and Vexia's head, allowing it to effectively absorb most of the smoke while their legs move unimpeded.
"Vexia, we should leave! The temple will collapse around us soon!" He screamed in a hoarse voice as the heat from the fire scorched his airways.
A loud groan shook the temple from its foundations as Flowryde spoke. The marble columns supporting the structure were beginning to crumble under the heat. Mountains of ashes and debris littered the once majestic Ritual Hall with a dark heavy haze obscuring their vision. Suddenly, Flowryde caught a glimpse of a familiar figure flitting through the inferno towards the general direction of the entrance. Her rich golden locks registered in his mind for an instant before panic overwhelmed him as part of the roof came crashing down behind them.
"Let's go!"
Flowryde rushed after the figure, attempting to mimic her steps but his feet were not as nimble, causing him to lose his footing, and almost his life, a few times. At last, a tunnel through the smog led them to safety.
Looking back at the burning temple which painted the night sky in blood, Flowryde let out a cry of anguish. His whole life had been eradicated before him in a flash of orange and red. Countless memories written on the walls, washed across the floors, hanging from the rafters... Gone. They will pay. Flowryde was certain that those responsible for the destruction of his home were the same as those who orchestrated the death of his mentor. He will drink hot blood in due time.
Presently, he collected his thoughts and wandered in search through the crowd, oblivious to the chaos around him as the inhabitants of Moonshearth attempt to quench the flames in vain. Passing a group of fellow wardens, he found his goal.
"Fine night for old friends to catch up around a merry fire eh, Jocasta?"
"Vexia, we should leave! The temple will collapse around us soon!" He screamed in a hoarse voice as the heat from the fire scorched his airways.
A loud groan shook the temple from its foundations as Flowryde spoke. The marble columns supporting the structure were beginning to crumble under the heat. Mountains of ashes and debris littered the once majestic Ritual Hall with a dark heavy haze obscuring their vision. Suddenly, Flowryde caught a glimpse of a familiar figure flitting through the inferno towards the general direction of the entrance. Her rich golden locks registered in his mind for an instant before panic overwhelmed him as part of the roof came crashing down behind them.
"Let's go!"
Flowryde rushed after the figure, attempting to mimic her steps but his feet were not as nimble, causing him to lose his footing, and almost his life, a few times. At last, a tunnel through the smog led them to safety.
Looking back at the burning temple which painted the night sky in blood, Flowryde let out a cry of anguish. His whole life had been eradicated before him in a flash of orange and red. Countless memories written on the walls, washed across the floors, hanging from the rafters... Gone. They will pay. Flowryde was certain that those responsible for the destruction of his home were the same as those who orchestrated the death of his mentor. He will drink hot blood in due time.
Presently, he collected his thoughts and wandered in search through the crowd, oblivious to the chaos around him as the inhabitants of Moonshearth attempt to quench the flames in vain. Passing a group of fellow wardens, he found his goal.
"Fine night for old friends to catch up around a merry fire eh, Jocasta?"
Extreme hypnotism induced by spoken words seems quite overpowered, especially in the political landscape of this world. This magic seems to directly influence the senses of the affected, so just to understand it, can Tanis squirt some water at anyones face, tell them its a poison that destroys vision then convince them that they are blind? Also, is it right to assume illusions and dreamwalking cant physically hurt anyone directly nor cause changes to the real environment?
Flowryde's vision was filled with radiant hues, flames grew from a point in the distance, a deep orange and red rushing towards his being as they greedily lick every inch of him but he felt no sensation of pain. Flowryde was suspended in a compact, gaseous fluid as a thousand faces and snippets of conversation flash by his consciousness in a blur. Suddenly an image stood out among the onslaught of a myriad faces. It was the High Priestess Olwyn, her kindly features were smiling at him and as abruptly as it came, the image contorted into a demonic vision of a hooded deformed being, its eyes gleaming a beady red ember, laughing before the image shattered into a million pieces of glass.
"The Occult has spoken to you in a different way...." His head was spinning. " ...something is approaching that will change the coven..." he felt bile built at the back of his throat which mingled with the smoky scent of incense. "...It is late." His vision was swimming but he could vaguely perceive his surrounding and noticed the presence of witches around him as his legs carried him towards a voice.
A harsh scream broke him out of his reverie, Flowryde realised that the smell of smoke was not from the incense but rather the whole temple in flames. Alarmed he stared around in horror as the flames rapidly devoured pillars and beams. His home was burning before him. The pedestal, where the high priestess would conduct the rituals, now laying in a pile of ash, golden statues were crumbling as the fire ate its way across the floor. The arch way leading to the Templar quarters stood ominously at the back as the dark haze obscure what destruction hidden behind them. The sight spurred Flowryde into action, wrapping his head in his cloak, he raced across the floor into the dark arch way. Black fumes stung his eyes as he foraged deeper into the inferno. Luckily, he was dressed in his only set of battle dress robes which were flame retardant and protected him somewhat from the heat. Past the grand hall, the flames were less intense and he navigated past the corridors which had not caught the worst of the flames.
As he reached his room, he was relieved that the protection glyphs he had placed all across his living space had kept his belongings safe. Uncertain if the room would survive, he packed his glyph making set and a few leather bound books into a sling bag. ripping out a floor board, he procured a book The High Priestess had entrusted to him entitled "Le Gene D'Cerf". This artifact had been the Lady's last gift and request to Flowryde, he would protect it to his grave. Lastly, he dumped a bucket of water on his blanket before using the blanket as a shield against the flames. Surveying his room for what might be the last time, emotions well up in his eyes. Flowryde vowed to destroy whoever that was behind this as he hurried back to the main hall towards the main exit.
The journey this time was more perilous as the fire was raging at its peak. Reaching Vexia, he saw that mostly everyone had vacated the hall save the witch who had sacrifice herself for the sake of others. Flowryde threw his blanket over her, attempting to shield her from the smoke.
"The Occult has spoken to you in a different way...." His head was spinning. " ...something is approaching that will change the coven..." he felt bile built at the back of his throat which mingled with the smoky scent of incense. "...It is late." His vision was swimming but he could vaguely perceive his surrounding and noticed the presence of witches around him as his legs carried him towards a voice.
A harsh scream broke him out of his reverie, Flowryde realised that the smell of smoke was not from the incense but rather the whole temple in flames. Alarmed he stared around in horror as the flames rapidly devoured pillars and beams. His home was burning before him. The pedestal, where the high priestess would conduct the rituals, now laying in a pile of ash, golden statues were crumbling as the fire ate its way across the floor. The arch way leading to the Templar quarters stood ominously at the back as the dark haze obscure what destruction hidden behind them. The sight spurred Flowryde into action, wrapping his head in his cloak, he raced across the floor into the dark arch way. Black fumes stung his eyes as he foraged deeper into the inferno. Luckily, he was dressed in his only set of battle dress robes which were flame retardant and protected him somewhat from the heat. Past the grand hall, the flames were less intense and he navigated past the corridors which had not caught the worst of the flames.
As he reached his room, he was relieved that the protection glyphs he had placed all across his living space had kept his belongings safe. Uncertain if the room would survive, he packed his glyph making set and a few leather bound books into a sling bag. ripping out a floor board, he procured a book The High Priestess had entrusted to him entitled "Le Gene D'Cerf". This artifact had been the Lady's last gift and request to Flowryde, he would protect it to his grave. Lastly, he dumped a bucket of water on his blanket before using the blanket as a shield against the flames. Surveying his room for what might be the last time, emotions well up in his eyes. Flowryde vowed to destroy whoever that was behind this as he hurried back to the main hall towards the main exit.
The journey this time was more perilous as the fire was raging at its peak. Reaching Vexia, he saw that mostly everyone had vacated the hall save the witch who had sacrifice herself for the sake of others. Flowryde threw his blanket over her, attempting to shield her from the smoke.
Ilydyn, were holding up the rp, lets save that conversation for another time. We dont have to do it right away anyways.
bump
Iydyn, Ive typed the intro, just waiting for the dialogue part. Whats your timezone? we should set a time and finish it. Im free 30th Oct 10am-12noon and 8pm-12 midnight Aest time
double post, why dos this keep happening
woa, bobo, you just stole Variounus character
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