EmmaZ

Strawberry Romantic

Just as Sam was rushing the next monster, it burst into smoke on its own. She glared at the haze skeptically, trying to figure out what the trick was–until it reformed as an ordinary pigeon. The girl’s skepticism turned to confusion, which only deepened when she looked around and saw the other monsters turning into perfectly ordinary birds.

And in the middle of the street, no longer behind any aberrations, stood a woman. She had a definitely magical staff raised overhead. And suddenly it began to rain. Not a hard rain; it was a light drizzle easily shielded by holding her paws over her head. It still wasn’t a normal rain. Not with how that cloud overhead had come out of nowhere sometime during the…oh no, during the battle. She’d just fought a battle.

‘Worry later; work now.’ Tamping down a rising panic, Sam ran after the woman as she dropped her staff into a puddle and stepped off the road.

“Excuse me! Ma’am! Do you…” Sam stopped her words at the same time she stopped in front of the strange woman. What did she want to ask? Would this woman even have answers? Certainly she looked antiquated enough to know something; but then again, Sam didn’t normally wear red hide and tribal tattoos. Appearances were far from a useful metric.

Still, something about the woman felt older, and far more confident, than Sam did. With a deep breath, she plunged ahead. “What happened here? What are those birds, are they still dangerous, and where did everyone else-?”

Strawberry Romantic

@druidquest The Witch is a fairly prominent figure on the otherwise empty street, yes?

A Lady of Magic

The Empire of Evangea

History: The Empire began when the Kingdom of Avonlea, under the reign of Alexander Avon, brought the two nearest nations under their banner. The nation of Bismark was conquered in a war, their king made to surrender; and the nation of Filleh, in a time of economic distress, made themselves a vassal and were slowly integrated during Alexander’s rule.

To everyone’s great surprise, King Bismark was not executed. To even greater surprise, Alexander Avon declared that Bismark’s heir would marry his youngest daughter and become the heir of the Empire. A year after the two were wed, Alexander passed away. Thus the second Emperor, Elias Bismark Avon, was crowned, with Leah Avon at his side.

Elias reigned for forty years. He did not expand the Empire’s borders as his father-in-law had; rather, he sought increased trade opportunities with their neighbors. His eldest son founded the merchant company that became Pegasus Shipping, the economic backbone of the Empire. His first daughter established the Evangian Imperial Academy of Magi as the premier school of magic amongst all the nations east of the Spine Mountains. Two of his sons entered military service, though in the peaceful reign of their father they saw no war and safely raised families of their own. His daughters all married into other important families, throughout Avonlea, Bismark, and Filleh. And finally, Elias appointed his youngest son, Frederick, as his heir.

Frederick Avon married the daughter of his father’s Chief Advisor, descendant of the former ruler of the nation of Filleh, Maria Filleh. She was twice his age when they wed, thirty to his sixteen, but every citizen knows how much the young lord cared for his wife. They had three children before his father passed away, leaving Frederick to become Emperor at the age of twenty-four. Nearly as soon as he began to reign, tragedy swept the nation in the form of a plague. Healers couldn’t cure it; and it claimed Maria’s life, as well as their eldest son’s.

Frederick mourned; but the Empire needed an Empress. The daughter of Duke Bismuth was presented to him, and he took her as his new wife–to his mother’s disapproval, though she was never public about it. The new Empress was ambitious, quickly assuming her official duties but quick to neglect caring for her step-children. Even more so after she bore the Emperor children of her own.

Geography: The Empire of Evangea sits on the east coast of the continent. Sailing north brings one to the Republic of Artica, a collection of city-states that united under a single banner in response to Alexander’s conquering of Bismark. To the south, beyond the Green Barony, is the country of Kranzen, a professed meritocracy ruled by sorcerers. There is some tension there, only partly eased by the trade deals Emperor Elias established before his passing.

West lies the Skaadi Plains, an uncivilized land populated by roaming tribes of spirit-worshippers. Alexander declared he would never attempt to gain control of the plains; and speculation about whether that was in respect for the nomads there, or for the headache trying to tame the wildlands would be, continues even now. Beyond the Skaadi Plains are the Spine Mountains, a nigh-impassible range that causes sorcerers’ magic to fizzle, spark, and malfunction. No expedition to cross it has returned to report either what is in the mountains, or what may lie beyond. Ships are unable to sail around as the straits beneath Kranzen are too treacherous, and the waters north of Artica are frozen over most of the year. Popular superstition holds that it’s simply the edge of the world, and those attempting to reach the other side succeeded only to fall off into the void.

Pantheon: The king of the gods, Kai-El, holds domain over Divination. His wife, Mai-Ah, governs Abjuration. Their eldest son, Strai-El, is Lord of Evocation. Mai-Ah’s sister, Callah, is Lady of Enchantment. Kai-El’s brother, Dai-Adam, is Lord of the Underworld and protector of Necromancy (a school he jealously guards, refusing to permit mortals access to his power). The Wanderer, Hoyt (gender unspecified), governs Illusions; and his pet Dezzin (portrayed as various animals, or even several animals rolled together) is responsible for Transmutation. And Lady Fae holds charge of Conjuration.

Lesser gods are also worshiped, like Callah’s daughter Calliope, Lady of Babies, Home, and Family. They don’t have official temples or clergy, though. Just shrines built in homes or beside roads.

Heir to the Maou

Talia stared transfixed at the strange…whatever it was. Wisps of energy swirled in and around it, like an Aura invoked but without a body to guide it. And… faint whispers were drifting from it.

Curious, the young demon stepped through the hole and into the glowing cavern. The closer she stepped, the louder those whispers seemed to grow. Once she was right beside it, she almost thought she could hear words. A prayer? Feeling compelled, Talia raised a hand to gently prod at the floating orb.

As soon as her fingers brushed it, the sphere erupted with blinding light. Wind began to swirl, and the wisps of energy began waving in a frenzy. A sharp cry echoed around the chamber, filling her ears.

“Kalinia!”

Talia fell back, covering her face as best she could against the gale. The whispers built in crescendo, pounding her head even more incessantly than the stale cave air. The ball of light swelled larger, big enough to encompass a man. And just as Talia felt like her head would split open, the light withdrew in a terrific implosion of wind and sound.

And standing where the light had been, was a satir. Her skin was a deep purple, her horns curved back, and her eyes were as silvery as Talia’s and glowing with Aura. She wore a majestic set of light armor, and in her hands gripped a pair of fiercely glowing axes.

The woman’s eyes locked on Talia. The glow left her axes as she stepped forward. “Kali! Good, you’re safe. We need… to… get… …”

Her words faded out as she tried to take a second step and stumbled, then tipped over sideways. She crashed to the cave floor, her Aura flaring briefly as she made contact to protect her body even as she lost consciousness.

Talia stared, too shocked to process what she was seeing. “What…?” she voiced slowly, her eyes darting to Dante, then to Gunthar.

Hider

Heir to the Maou

@Horton EEE! He's adorable! Abso-freakin'-lutely you are welcome!

Heir to the Maou

Wah! I'm back!

Sorry for the week-long silence; I had a perfect storm from illness, to tech issues, to a prolonged out-of-state trip. One after the other. Blegh.

Life has finally returned to normal as of this morning. My computer works again, I don't feel dizzy just from sitting up, and I'm not spending another eight hours driving.

How are you guys doing?

Strawberry Romantic

Hmmm, what kind of ancient spirit would grant the user lightning powers?

@Silver Carrot

A Japanese spirit (a shrine priestess to Susanoo, or maybe even a kami); a sailor and/or pirate; or Nikola Tesla's assistant who was caught in a lab accident and received electricity-based superpowers.

Also, as an alternate approach to RBY's: someone who maintains her calm, her dignity, her gravitas, until enough tension has built up and she snaps with all the rage of a billion volts.

@RBYDark Her bear hands indeed.
Nice notice that Agmundr is probably old enough to have gone through this before! Kammu, not so much.

Strawberry Romantic

@RBYDark I aim to please.

I don't know that I've actually read a description of Diarmi's new threads, but I assumed it would be somewhat thematic. At least I hoped so, so that I could include that line.

Strawberry Romantic

The second mutant puffed away into nothing. Sam took a deep breath as she lifted her sword again. There was one bird-thing left in front of her, but it was being more careful than the others had been. Its head cocked to one side, far enough Sam felt like her own was going to crack, and watched her curiously.

“Look, can you explain now?” Sam begged the bare-chested warrior.

“Hm. That weapon you hold…” he started slowly. Sam nodded along, not taking her eyes off the monster before her. Right, what was this weapon? “...it’s a blade. You swing it like a club.”

Sam staggered, narrowly avoiding face-planting. “Well gee, thanks! I hadn’t realized! It’s not like this is the first time I’ve ever used a sword or anything!”

The pigeon rushed forward while Sam was distracted. She cursed and dove beneath its attack, narrowly avoiding a beak, but couldn’t bring her weapon to bear in time to counterattack. The creature was over her then, and it decided to keep going after far easier prey. Sam cursed again, jumping up to give chase.

“Then don’t use it. Put away the blade. Use the claws.”

“The what?”

“Put away the blade.”

Sam grunted in frustration, but she did as instructed. She grabbed the sheath tied to her belt and slid the sword into it. Then she looked to her other side, where a pair of bear claws hung. “You mean these? How do I use stuffed bear claws?”

“Put them on.”

“How do I put them on?!” The things were stuffed! Solid! Not gloves!

“Pick them up. Don them. You can do it. You haven’t struggled with the pants, you can handle the claws.”

“What about my-” Sam began, but then she saw what she was wearing. She’d missed it in the moment–fighting giant mutant pigeons takes a lot of focus from other things–but she wasn’t wearing her casual skirt and jacket anymore. Her chest was wrapped in a piece of brown leather that didn’t come close to her shoulders or navel; and her legs were covered by the baggiest set of pants she had ever seen. It was only by pure magic they weren’t already around her ankles; the material maintained at best two points of contact with her skin, and usually only kept one.

The sight was so unnerving, she stopped running for a moment. With how loose the trousers were, she could see none of what she was wearing was what she had put on that morning. These were an attractive red, not the plain white her drawer was filled with.

A renewed bout of screaming forced Sam to look up and start running again. The monster had grabbed someone as she stepped out of a shop. It took… something out of her, a purplish, glowy ball that definitely wasn’t a person’s soul, and left her body to flop to the ground.

“Claws!” the warrior ordered. Sam ground her teeth, but without any time to spare she just grabbed the claws and yanked them off her belt.

And suddenly her hands were a pair of bear claws.

The pigeonman took wing and flapped over Sam’s head, moving back to the street it had come from. Sam pivoted as well, chasing after the monster. Her new paws left her feeling unbalanced, but she wasn’t about to let the thing get away with…whatever it was trying to get away with.

Unfortunately, one more hopped around the corner to block her as the monster with the definitely not a soul fled.

“NO! YOU! DON’T!” Sam screamed, launching herself at the new enemy and swinging her giant claws down on it. She felt it resist for a fraction of a moment, before it wisped away in a puff of smoke.

“Like a club,” her partner nodded sagely. “Much better for you.”

“Not helping! Where did-”

And now that Sam was around the corner, she saw more costumed crazies cutting down the creatures. Closest to her was the world’s smallest viking, and further down the street was a miniature Joan of Arc. And the monster she was pursuing was carefully flying above both.

“Hey! Try and see if you can find something they’re bringing that purple stuff to!” little Joan called out. Sam did a double-take as the girl then lifted a sword bigger than she was and moved. It wasn’t like a teleport, or vanishing; Sam could see her go from point A to point B. She just did so…instantly. Like space had bent for her so she wouldn’t lose time.

“Sure! That one has a ‘purple stuff’ with it!” Sam shouted back, pointing at the creature quickly moving toward the other end of the street. Now that it was past the others, it was descending and glancing around in search of something. “Grab it, I’ll handle the ones still out here!”

Heir to the Maou

The echoing boom of Gunthar creating their next tunnel traveled back over the trio as they worked. True to her promise (despite feeling awkward after Fenn hugging her for it), Talia was acting as first Light. Rather than trying to manifest her Aura as a torch, hovering over her shoulder as the older demons did, she channeled her Aura up to her horns. The two tips glowed, more than enough to light the tunnel around them out to thirty feet, with dim vision that far again.

"What did you do with your day off?" Dante asked his favorite Sunday question. It gave Talia pause for a moment, as today wasn’t Sunday, or even Moonday, but Tidesday; then again, her answer never really changed, either. And it looked like he had something on his mind. His swings weren’t as enthusiastic as usual.

“I spent Sitterday with Draconhouser, mostly helping Brom with his letters. He’s determined to catch up to Sophrena.” The sibling rivalry the twins had was cute, but at their age Brom was at a definite disadvantage. He never stopped trying, though, and Talia could encourage that.

Just having a sibling to compete with looked fun.

The mining continued, Dante semi-distracted but trying to keep some conversation up and Fenn semi-distracted by default; he never did a good job of staying focused on work, even with Talia’s polite nudging. Gunthar passed on his way out, pushing two carts full of rock and towing a third behind him. He’d definitely earned his moniker, “Big Fracking Gun.” As he came back through, an idea occurred to Talia.

“Why don’t we go with Gunthar? He’s making fresh tunnels, so there should be more ores right on the surface. He might even be knocking some loose that we could add to the carts.” She turned her gaze up, and up some more, to see what the ogre thought of the idea. “Would you mind, Gun? We’ll stay far enough back you won’t have to worry about hitting us.”