AtomicNut

Isle of Atria (Open World, Always Open)

I guess the mention isn't really applicable until the last paragraph or so. >_<

@Lumiere

Wee, Random encounter.

Emphasis on Random.

Now how much XP is the thing and the muck worth?

Isle of Atria (Open World, Always Open)

Sir Kay

Sir Kay looked for a single moment at the traveller, as he continued to elaborate on declining his offer. Yeah yeah, You just want to be the cool adventurer mistrusting everything. I've seen that a lot. He thought to himself, not showing outward signs on how utterly droll he found the traveller explanation.

"Why would someone spend more than a night in that place, even? If you say every hand is answered with a knife, then that place is living on borrowed time. For no one will help when said place is brought to heel." Sir Kay answered as he tugged the reins. "Then so be it." He said, as he turned the rump of his horse, pointing once more in the direction of travel, straining the sights to check on suspicious puddles of battle?

"I'm sir Kay of Stony Cross. Who might you be, tinkerer?" He added, quickly finishing the assesment of the other traveller.

@Eisenhorn

Isle of Atria (Open World, Always Open)

FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!

Kiss kiss kiss~
~w~

@Lumiere

MAKE LOVE. NOT WAR.

SCRATCH THAT

MAKE LOVE AND WAR.

Isle of Atria (Open World, Always Open)

@Jojo

I wasn't planning a brawl withe guard lol.

@Sophrus

Too late, mate.

BRAWL! BRAWL! BRAWL!

Isle of Atria (Open World, Always Open)

Sir Kay is a cool man. He doesn't mind slime-loving deviants.

Isle of Atria (Open World, Always Open)

Sir Kay

Kay eyed his interlocutor, his heroic willpower being tested to not leave a deep and long sigh. Of course, of all stranded travellers he had to come and try to assist, it had to be the one who thinks he's smarter and skilled above anyone else. And with horrible sarcasm, he must add. Still, he kept his composture as he cleared his throat.

"Beg you pardon, my good fellow. I was unaware that a fine man like you had such... exotic tastes." He decided instead to run with it. Frankly speaking, the smarm this man was giving was quite noticeable. Plus there was to note the contraption he held. Maybe he was a tinkerer of some sort, emboldened by some success in his craft? He also felt somewhat insulted by his words. Debt? He was not going to extort any kind of favour from his goodwill. He was doing the right thing to do, without expecting a reward, like a good errant knight should do.

"However, before you resume your appreciation for the humid embrace of the slime-folk I must insist in my offer, for I have seen proof that the dead walk in this swamp." He paused. "And I must clarify that I do not do this to be owed in any manner, I am a man of honour and I will not let the innocent be in danger if I can help it." Sir Kay finished, expecting a reply.

@Eisenhorn

Isle of Atria (Open World, Always Open)

Sir Kay

Dusk went past. Light gave unto darkness, as a small spectacle of beautiful eerie light set ablaze. The night was alive in the swamp, that was beyond doubt. But Sir Kay knew that looking into that enrapturing spectacle could prove fatal to the unskilled. He pressed the fresh mud with his finger as he knelt by one of the swamp many ponds. It certainly was soft, and imprints and tracks left on that mud were clear as a day... if they were recent.

Those tracks he had found earlier, and had justified a more throughout inspection of the swamp, were actually not remnants of an ages long past, but they were quite recent. Given the nature of those, it was an alarming finding. Were them hoofprints or trails, he would not have given them a second thought. He could have accepted normal human footprints, but those... A shallow depression with the shape of a foot... were it to be stripped completely out of the flesh. Something unnatural. A skeleton footprint. As if the beasts and slimes weren't enough, the swamp had the telltale signs of undead.

The nature here is warped. It's not readily apparent, but it is warped. He added mentally as he strained his sight to see in the shadows to see where the trail ended. It disappeared in a puddle of some sorts. Apprehensively, Kay grabbed a pebble, and tossed it to the apparent puddle. It writhed and reacted to it.

Damn slimes, they had erased a vital clue that was most needed.

Kay felt defeated, but there was so much he could do in the night in the particular swamp. He stood upright and tried to get his mare's reins, when his mount turned to a side. She had heard, or seen something. Kay knew that horses could see much better than humans at night, so he stood silent. The ramblings of a man could be heard, in harsh whispers. A intermittent source of light was shown at times. A bandit? No, he did not move like someone trying to be stealthy. He... seemed incovenienced. A traveller, and probably a highborn, given his overall shape and the glimpses he could get out of clothes. He didn't look to be a necromancer either.

Damn...fool. Kay resisted the temptation to facepalm as he swiftly grabbed his mare's reins and caressed her nose. "Easy, girl. We need to do a last stretch of travelling and then I will let you rest." He whispered into her ear as he moved to appear in front of the stranger, his mare behind her.

"Hail traveller." He said curtly. "I do not comprehend what would push someone like you..." He paused for a second, eyeing the strange contraptions the man seemed to have"...of noble repute to prowl a swamp like this at this time of the hour, but you should make haste to reach town." That man seemed familiar? Maybe one of those arrogant faces of his youth? Who could've known.

He inhaled, as he finally realized the man had been zigzagging through the dry spots. He would never reach town at this rate. "Actually, it's better if you hop on my mare's rump. We may have to wade through if we want to make haste."

@Eisenhorn

Isle of Atria (Open World, Always Open)

Sir Kay

Name:Sir Kay Starling AKA Sir Kay of Stony Cross AKA The Gallant Knight

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Age:28

Birthplace: Stony Cross, a walled town with a keep near Leveret territory.

Current Location:TBD (Probably Swamps of Wanderneir, because the city is getting a little crowded).

Physical Description:Sir Kay is athletic and tall, with a warrior's build and standing at a bit more than 6'4", thus giving him an imposing presence when clad in armour from head to toe. He rarely ventures without it, as underneath the clothes, his entire body is a map of scars from head to toe. Burns, cuts, bites, arrows. His face is affected too, having a nasty burnt scar in the right side of the neck and cheek, covered in pale, pink wrinkled flesh. He has black hair which he keeps cut short and a reassuring calm stare with hazel eyes. He also has a significant tan due to his outdoor lifestyle.

His equipment sets sir Kay apart from most wandering knights, and most knights at all. He is one of the few lucky (or unlucky ones) to have come to possess a dragon scale armour, which in itself is no small feat. (Dragon-scale is a rare material, and armours usually are tailored to the person, so he either was incredibly lucky or incredibly skilled to take out a dragon on his own). His sword is also a treasure on his own, a precious relic from a forgotten age cast in star metal, and with runic enchantments etched on it. His lance and shield are however, more mundane, albeit they're also rather high quality equipment. The shield was crafted by dwarven metal smiths and the lance is made of ironwood, which is slightly heavier than normal but also more durable. His bow is otherwise non-descript, as he considers the weapon a bit un-knightly.

He rides an old chestnut mare, whom he is incredibly attached to. He even calls her Betta. Even if the steed is evidently old and no longer at her prime, she seems to have a keen disposition and a certain cunning (for a horse), and is every bit as battle-hardy as her owner.

Mental Description: Kay is a two-faced individual. On the surface, he seems to have no small mean streak and he is brash, despondent and dismissive of most things, specially politics and society. He is usually gruff and it takes several attempts to establish conversation with him unless he is specially interested in something. Underneath the surface, it is clear he is sullen and disappointed with the world at large, and he tries to keep people at arm's length so that they don't learn the brave knight actually thinks the world is a complete latrine. However, when the situation calls for it, Kay is a pillar of bravery and a light in the darkness. He is nearly fearless when it comes to defending the weak. No foe is too tough. No challenge is too dire. Even if his body is cut, full of arrows and burnt, he keeps going as long as he draws breath, and innocents need to be protected.

Unlike most vassals of the Kingdom of Wanderneir, Kay is pragmatic when it comes to magic. It is a powerful tool. Nothing else. However, like all powerful tools it can be misused and care needs to be taken when giving certain individuals said knowledge. He himself has taken to heart to learn it, since his wandering knight ways has pitted him against ever-increasing dangerous foes, some of them couldn't be felled in normal ways. While far from being a full-fledged mage, he has a decent set of support magic skills, kitted to increase his durability in battle and dispelling foul arts. He also knows some offensive fire spell casting.

He is also more cultured than the average knight, seeing that knowing other languages and cultures can help when gathering information. Due to him being raised near Leveret territory, he has a decent insight on them.

Background Information (Optional):
Kay was born as the second son of Count Starling, Lord of Stony Cross. His highborn status and being second fiddle to the heir, his elder brother, sent him in the path of knighthood. If his brother was the ruling lord, he would be the town's sworn shield, and would strike at foes and defend the innocent. Kay was found out to have an excellent sword-arm and was an exemplary squire, being knighted fairly young much to his family's joy and pride.

Yet, for his exemplary attitude, Kay had certain... habits that didn't match with the average citizen. Stony Cross was part of the wars that spanned against the hare folk, the Leveret, and as such the town was incredibly xenophobic and magic-hating as a result. Kay did not revile them. From his point of view, the war had been long past, and the Leveret bleed red the same as him, so they weren't monsters or anything. Just somewhat different.

This would eventually prove to be his undoing.

When he was eighteen, he intervened in what seemed to be a diplomatic incident waiting to happen. A female Leveret trader had been accused of foul witchcraft, and was on the verge of being lynched. Kay stood up in her defense, for several reasons. They had no solid proof of foul practice, nor callously aggravating a neighbour trader would help to mend the rocky relationship with their folk. He had expected his brother to go in his defense. He did not. Secretly, his elder brother had been jealously because his own achievements paled in comparison to Kay's, and he used the situation to get rid of his little annoying brother.

Kay was left with no other option but to break the law to avoid shedding innocent blood. He helped the trader escape, and never set foot on Stony Cross again, deciding to become a wandering knight instead. It was his calling. No petty lords to please, no dirty politics. No backstabbing. Only him, monsters, and innocents to be saved. He kept doing this for a decade, his wounds and scars accumulating as well as his fame. However, his tales spread more among the neighbours of Wanderneir than inside the kingdom proper. Tales of travellers about a single gallant knight coming to their rescue without expecting any kind of reward. For this, he received boons such as his shield, his armour and his sword, which otherwise would be out of reach for someone with a more grounded lifestyle.

And then... news of the Kingdom's state reached his ears. Even if the politics of the kingdom had hurt him so badly, he decided to end his self imposed exile. Innocents were innocents after all.

Lamia

Name: Queen Lamia of Yrdring

Species: Dragon masquerading as Human

Gender: Female

Age: 1500+

Birthplace: The Giant's Dagger, Dragon Valley, north of the continent of Atria.

Current Location: Cauldron Keep, Kingdom of Yrdring (North of Wanderneir)

Physical Description: Lamia is massive and ancient. Dragons are fierce monsters that never stop growing, and her size demonstrates she is far from young. She can blot out the sun of a small town with her wingspan, and has more than enough physical force to crumble castles with her dragonfire and claws. She is a survivor, as her hide and scales are chipped with chinks and even scars from facing other dragons. However, her sheer scale and weight make her somewhat clumsy and a very big target, even when on the move. Thus, she uses sorcery to change and compress her form, usually taking the appearance of one of her thrall races. Since humans are the most common thralls she usually resemble a woman of striking features, with shiny golden eyes and cascading auburn hair.

Mental Description: Dragons are embodiments of pride and greed, and Lamia is no exception. Everything she does, and what she tries to accomplish, is to stoke her own vanity and ego. However, she is a wizened monster, as she has been brought to heel and close to death by the combined might of the unified kingdoms in the past. She knows that as puny as they are, the small races are not to be underestimated, and she changed the usual plunder and terror tactics of the average monster for intrigue, conspiracy and secrecy. Unusual for a dragon, she values blood links with her brood, and is one of the few members of her species to have assembled a semi-stable flock of a couple of young adults and several dragonlings.

She is a decent actress, and can feign empathy and concern pretty well when she wants to. She would be a capable ruler if not for her warped morals and greed.

Background Information (Optional): Lamia was born in another era. Where the lands had mighty empires, and only a far few reaches were out of place of the men, dwarves and elves. She was born in such place, a backward mountain among Mana spires. She grew tall and proud, and like a lot of young hot-headed dragons, she started a rampage as soon as she realized that a couple of warriors with sticks would not be able to stop her rampage.

She was shot out of the sky not a week after, when the different kingdoms showed an unite front. She managed to escape with her life, wounded and crippled, and vowed revenge upon her foes. Over the course of several centuries she avoided being seen or heard, and used that time to slowly but surely plot and hatch schemes to aggravate the fractures between the fighting kingdoms. While she wasn't the only culprit of the entire catastrophe, her touch served to aggravate it. Satisfied and vindicated, she then plundered the now still and dead ruins, and amassed her horde's worth of the treasures of the fallen. She then slept, lazy and proud upon her works. And the world kept spinning. She also raised several clutches of eggs, bringing forth upon the world more of her ilk, which quickly took advantage of the civilization's decline to set their own lairs.

But ... a dragon's appetite isn't sated for long. True, she had an horde. True, she was an elder member of her species. But her lair was located in the middle of nowhere. She wanted more. She bullied a few of her brood to do her bidding, and marched south. Appearing before the King of Yrdring, she presented herself as a sorceress of unmatched might who had brought even the proud dragons to heel. She amazed the court with her wonders, and even managed to gain the awe of the weak-willed heir. Some years later, and after a couple of "incidents", she seized the crown for herself, secretly turning all of Yrdring kingdom into unwitting thralls of the dragons, all while she spoke honeyed words to the masses and raised the kingdom's military power significantly with the goal of conquest of other kingdoms.

Although there's the matter that one of her children was recently felled...

Isle of Atria (Open World, Always Open)

(I couldn't find a good picture, sorry)

Name:Sir Kay Starling AKA Sir Kay of Stony Cross AKA The Gallant Knight

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Age:28

Birthplace: Stony Cross, a walled town with a keep near Leveret territory.

Current Location:TBD (Probably Swamps of Wanderneir, because the city is getting a little crowded).

Physical Description:Sir Kay is athletic and tall, with a warrior's build and standing at a bit more than 6'4", thus giving him an imposing presence when clad in armour from head to toe. He rarely ventures without it, as underneath the clothes, his entire body is a map of scars from head to toe. Burns, cuts, bites, arrows. His face is affected too, having a nasty burnt scar in the right side of the neck and cheek, covered in pale, pink wrinkled flesh. He has black hair which he keeps cut short and a reassuring calm stare with hazel eyes. He also has a significant tan due to his outdoor lifestyle.

His equipment sets sir Kay apart from most wandering knights, and most knights at all. He is one of the few lucky (or unlucky ones) to have come to possess a dragon scale armour, which in itself is no small feat. (Dragon-scale is a rare material, and armours usually are tailored to the person, so he either was incredibly lucky or incredibly skilled to take out a dragon on his own). His sword is also a treasure on his own, a precious relic from a forgotten age cast in star metal, and with runic enchantments etched on it. His lance and shield are however, more mundane, albeit they're also rather high quality equipment. The shield was crafted by dwarven metal smiths and the lance is made of ironwood, which is slightly heavier than normal but also more durable. His bow is otherwise non-descript, as he considers the weapon a bit un-knightly.

He rides an old chestnut mare, whom he is incredibly attached to. He even calls her Betta. Even if the steed is evidently old and no longer at her prime, she seems to have a keen disposition and a certain cunning (for a horse), and is every bit as battle-hardy as her owner.

Mental Description: Kay is a two-faced individual. On the surface, he seems to have no small mean streak and he is brash, despondent and dismissive of most things, specially politics and society. He is usually gruff and it takes several attempts to establish conversation with him unless he is specially interested in something. Underneath the surface, it is clear he is sullen and disappointed with the world at large, and he tries to keep people at arm's length so that they don't learn the brave knight actually thinks the world is a complete latrine. However, when the situation calls for it, Kay is a pillar of bravery and a light in the darkness. He is nearly fearless when it comes to defending the weak. No foe is too tough. No challenge is too dire. Even if his body is cut, full of arrows and burnt, he keeps going as long as he draws breath, and innocents need to be protected.

Unlike most vassals of the Kingdom of Wanderneir, Kay is pragmatic when it comes to magic. It is a powerful tool. Nothing else. However, like all powerful tools it can be misused and care needs to be taken when giving certain individuals said knowledge. He himself has taken to heart to learn it, since his wandering knight ways has pitted him against ever-increasing dangerous foes, some of them couldn't be felled in normal ways. While far from being a full-fledged mage, he has a decent set of support magic skills, kitted to increase his durability in battle and dispelling foul arts. He also knows some offensive fire spell casting.

He is also more cultured than the average knight, seeing that knowing other languages and cultures can help when gathering information. Due to him being raised near Leveret territory, he has a decent insight on them.

Background Information (Optional):
Kay was born as the second son of Count Starling, Lord of Stony Cross. His highborn status and being second fiddle to the heir, his elder brother, sent him in the path of knighthood. If his brother was the ruling lord, he would be the town's sworn shield, and would strike at foes and defend the innocent. Kay was found out to have an excellent sword-arm and was an exemplary squire, being knighted fairly young much to his family's joy and pride.

Yet, for his exemplary attitude, Kay had certain... habits that didn't match with the average citizen. Stony Cross was part of the wars that spanned against the hare folk, the Leveret, and as such the town was incredibly xenophobic and magic-hating as a result. Kay did not revile them. From his point of view, the war had been long past, and the Leveret bleed red the same as him, so they weren't monsters or anything. Just somewhat different.

This would eventually prove to be his undoing.

When he was eighteen, he intervened in what seemed to be a diplomatic incident waiting to happen. A female Leveret trader had been accused of foul witchcraft, and was on the verge of being lynched. Kay stood up in her defense, for several reasons. They had no solid proof of foul practice, nor callously aggravating a neighbour trader would help to mend the rocky relationship with their folk. He had expected his brother to go in his defense. He did not. Secretly, his elder brother had been jealously because his own achievements paled in comparison to Kay's, and he used the situation to get rid of his little annoying brother.

Kay was left with no other option but to break the law to avoid shedding innocent blood. He helped the trader escape, and never set foot on Stony Cross again, deciding to become a wandering knight instead. It was his calling. No petty lords to please, no dirty politics. No backstabbing. Only him, monsters, and innocents to be saved. He kept doing this for a decade, his wounds and scars accumulating as well as his fame. However, his tales spread more among the neighbours of Wanderneir than inside the kingdom proper. Tales of travellers about a single gallant knight coming to their rescue without expecting any kind of reward. For this, he received boons such as his shield, his armour and his sword, which otherwise would be out of reach for someone with a more grounded lifestyle.

And then... news of the Kingdom's state reached his ears. Even if the politics of the kingdom had hurt him so badly, he decided to end his self imposed exile. Innocents were innocents after all.

Royal Rumble!

Celestine Lightbringer

Remember, Caesar, that you are mortal. Celestine said to himself mentally, as he went mentally through the situation. So much for his plans and participation. Sometimes, somehow, you get the type of call that you are unable to excuse. Your strings are yanked, and you are unable to do as one wishes. The show had to go on... but without him. At least the water plan had somehow nudged things a little, but the teams of other schools were made of pure grit. Oh well, no plan survives contact with the enemy, he thought as he focused on the scene at hand.

He was, once again, in his honest alternative life, having being recalled with short notice to assist the Tournament healing bay. Someone thought that since alumni of schools helped in peacekeeping, alumni should also help with the healing. He turned around to see one of the defeated, the fallen, better.

He tried to be concise and professional, but it was hard to do so: His own body was so underdeveloped and androgynous that even in a formal suit with a white coat, it looked more an ill-fitting disguise than looking the actual part of his profession. He caught some of his female helpers spying glances at him with wishful eyes. They probably wanted to pet him, as if he were a cute dog. Or maybe worse.

Right now, he had parted with the wig and the makeup, and he was wearing some sunglasses, thankfully, so that no one could see the sheer look of disappointment and boredom in his face. Well, he was getting -some- intel on the rival schools. Second hand at best, but still better than anything.

"Hey doc, do you think Grant Handsome can have some fun tonight?" said one of the defeated ones. The so-called Handsome looked like he had stopped one too many fists with his face. His comrade, was even worse, clad in plaster and bandages head to toe.

And yet, he still had the energy to shout "YOLO!" once more. Truth to be told... YOLOman had a vitality to behold.

"Well, you may... but you might regret it in the morning, young man." He answered.

"Tch... and to think the Flatbread is the one left standing of our school." The perp replied in a bitter voice. "If I had known it, i would have ditched Reapper." He casted a glance aside.

"YOLO"

"Just...shut up." THe Rhean Technical student gritted under his teeth, throwing daggers at YOLOman. Celestine, now in the guise of Doctor Lightbringer, pinched the bridge of his nose. How come... all the idiots flocked to him?