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Respect was the name of the game. As the group gave introductions he heard their various names and titles and respecting their willingness to share contemplated providing his own in turn. In the back of his mind he pondered momentarily if this was the right thing to do, if one of these people may be an enemy; a member of some warring state which held animosity towards Corian, a roguish lout who would kill for the thrill, or perhaps some worker of the Labyrinth itself. Still; his subconscious shot back that should one of them turn on him he would show them the proper respect as well, offering a quiet burial after he dispatched them.
Cenric found peace of mind in the fact that scholars and soldiers apparently made up the group by and large. An alchemist was an individual who understood both science and magic, they were commonly deemed people of intelligence, their knowledge could prove useful in trying to find a way out. As for the combat ready among them... Any former warrior knows it's usually better to let someone else do the fighting for you if they're willing, and that way they can do the dying for you as well.
Noting Alexei's clothing and thinking over his words the Order Mage found himself shivering slightly. There were no wars or great battles between Corian and Isakios, but there was distrust and distaste of one another's practices that among individuals there had been bloodshed in the past, even if it hadn't escalated to a national scale it was something to worry about. Something in the man's expression towards him told him he was right to do so.
Peering into the distance the follower of the great serpent became lost in his own thoughts. He had made it inside, which had been the first thing he'd been troubled over, especially considering that since practically no one came back out there was no knowing if just entering would kill you or not. That out of the way he had to find a treasure grand enough to fund his research, to begin with, and then somehow manage to get out of the Labyrinth with it. Initially this had seemed the easy part but glancing in every direction he realized that the field of bony trees where the moon seemed to hang too low and the company seemed a bit erratic was all there was for some distance.
Well; aside from the massive gem. As tall as he and exuding an eerie emerald light from with it was, this black gem that would likely garner everyone's attention once they stopped chatting and started looking around. There was nothing like it back home, that was for certain, and it was for that reason that he didn't think to bother with it. Not only was it likely too heavy to take with him, he knew he wouldn't have the faintest idea who may purchase such a thing.
Compact but valuable; that was the idea. Gold, silver, fire...FIRE! The last thought came unbidden to his mind, having been inspired by the sudden eruption of fire biting at the air to his left, feasting greedily on the oxygen and warming his face with it's heat. He was startled, but unwilling to show it.
As such he softly said; "That... seemed unnecessary." After that instant he was entirely focused on those around him, not wanting to wind up fried and fricasseed if another of them decided to randomly loose a fire-bolt.
Turning to face the woman who had loosed the great gout of flame he saw her shaking her head and heard her pipe up; "No, I know of no Alchemists outside of Teann Ch'i." He had become so lost in the conversation that he didn't know why Alchemists were up for discussion, but nodding towards the space the flames had just scorched the air he decided it best not to ask, waiting for some form of response to his own comment.
As the girl stepped closer to him Cenric focused in on her, his eyes quickly sweeping from her feet up to her face. She was pretty, her eyes cheerful, and her gaze straightforward; all in all it disarmed him of his wariness after the sudden surge of fire and his shoulders loosed some of their tension.
"I just wanted to make sure it works, because, Monsters?!" She had said and he found himself agreeing, though he didn't say so aloud. If there were monsters they should make sure they were prepared, that much made sense.
"I suppose that's reasonable." He responded, pushing his glasses a bit further up his nose in a gesture that was intended to show nonchalance. Honestly he felt anything but; the fire had rattled him, sure, but more than that it was the uncertainty. Were these people friend or foe? Would he make it out? Would he ever see Dian or his parents, or his friend again? Even if he did make it out, would his research succeed?
Within moments it was apparent he wasn't the only one who thought so. Snapped from his worries his eyes widened at the show being put on. Roan, one of the other men in their impromptu coterie, had taken it upon himself to test his own abilities. “Blade Dance.” The man said. Suddenly there was something... someone... a figure or phantasm of flame seemed to assail the air before it before vanishing. Impressive magic but it was unnatural, and as such discomforting. “Interesting…” the man went on to say, to which Cenric found himself wishing to reply until he saw the man's hands. He blinked in recognition. Markings, tattoos of some sort, but reminiscent of his own Brands.
Cen was absently aware of someone moving off to his right. He heard a sigh and his eyes flitted towards the one who had introduced herself as Arryn. She was moving towards something behind him, something he determined didn't matter to him just now. "What is this thing?" She asked, but he was too focused at that point to reply, pondering his Brands and wondering if he could access his abilities whilst in the Labyrinth. Nevertheless; after the little stunt with the fire he noticed her. He was doing his best to make sure he noticed everything after that.
Glancing down at his hand Cen pondered just how dissimilar their abilities may be, his mind reeling with questions he wasn't sure he wanted the answers to. And then suddenly his thoughts died away and what was left was a moment's peace. Taking the opportunity he loosed an Aidhr Kehl and watched his Brands very subtly writhe as though breathing. Within himself he could feel the entirety of existence. Every bird, beast, and creature of the briny blue existed within him at that moment and he could feel their hearts pulsing in time with his own, hear their breaths and their cries, feel their every joy and sorrow. Exhaling slowly he ended the spell. Unlike the fireball or the spirit his own ability had made no visible mark upon the world. Despite this it had actively improved his mood. He may be a lone Corian, but as he recalled his magic instructor saying time and again; a Corian mage is never truly alone.
Cenric found peace of mind in the fact that scholars and soldiers apparently made up the group by and large. An alchemist was an individual who understood both science and magic, they were commonly deemed people of intelligence, their knowledge could prove useful in trying to find a way out. As for the combat ready among them... Any former warrior knows it's usually better to let someone else do the fighting for you if they're willing, and that way they can do the dying for you as well.
Noting Alexei's clothing and thinking over his words the Order Mage found himself shivering slightly. There were no wars or great battles between Corian and Isakios, but there was distrust and distaste of one another's practices that among individuals there had been bloodshed in the past, even if it hadn't escalated to a national scale it was something to worry about. Something in the man's expression towards him told him he was right to do so.
Peering into the distance the follower of the great serpent became lost in his own thoughts. He had made it inside, which had been the first thing he'd been troubled over, especially considering that since practically no one came back out there was no knowing if just entering would kill you or not. That out of the way he had to find a treasure grand enough to fund his research, to begin with, and then somehow manage to get out of the Labyrinth with it. Initially this had seemed the easy part but glancing in every direction he realized that the field of bony trees where the moon seemed to hang too low and the company seemed a bit erratic was all there was for some distance.
Well; aside from the massive gem. As tall as he and exuding an eerie emerald light from with it was, this black gem that would likely garner everyone's attention once they stopped chatting and started looking around. There was nothing like it back home, that was for certain, and it was for that reason that he didn't think to bother with it. Not only was it likely too heavy to take with him, he knew he wouldn't have the faintest idea who may purchase such a thing.
Compact but valuable; that was the idea. Gold, silver, fire...FIRE! The last thought came unbidden to his mind, having been inspired by the sudden eruption of fire biting at the air to his left, feasting greedily on the oxygen and warming his face with it's heat. He was startled, but unwilling to show it.
As such he softly said; "That... seemed unnecessary." After that instant he was entirely focused on those around him, not wanting to wind up fried and fricasseed if another of them decided to randomly loose a fire-bolt.
Turning to face the woman who had loosed the great gout of flame he saw her shaking her head and heard her pipe up; "No, I know of no Alchemists outside of Teann Ch'i." He had become so lost in the conversation that he didn't know why Alchemists were up for discussion, but nodding towards the space the flames had just scorched the air he decided it best not to ask, waiting for some form of response to his own comment.
As the girl stepped closer to him Cenric focused in on her, his eyes quickly sweeping from her feet up to her face. She was pretty, her eyes cheerful, and her gaze straightforward; all in all it disarmed him of his wariness after the sudden surge of fire and his shoulders loosed some of their tension.
"I just wanted to make sure it works, because, Monsters?!" She had said and he found himself agreeing, though he didn't say so aloud. If there were monsters they should make sure they were prepared, that much made sense.
"I suppose that's reasonable." He responded, pushing his glasses a bit further up his nose in a gesture that was intended to show nonchalance. Honestly he felt anything but; the fire had rattled him, sure, but more than that it was the uncertainty. Were these people friend or foe? Would he make it out? Would he ever see Dian or his parents, or his friend again? Even if he did make it out, would his research succeed?
Within moments it was apparent he wasn't the only one who thought so. Snapped from his worries his eyes widened at the show being put on. Roan, one of the other men in their impromptu coterie, had taken it upon himself to test his own abilities. “Blade Dance.” The man said. Suddenly there was something... someone... a figure or phantasm of flame seemed to assail the air before it before vanishing. Impressive magic but it was unnatural, and as such discomforting. “Interesting…” the man went on to say, to which Cenric found himself wishing to reply until he saw the man's hands. He blinked in recognition. Markings, tattoos of some sort, but reminiscent of his own Brands.
Cen was absently aware of someone moving off to his right. He heard a sigh and his eyes flitted towards the one who had introduced herself as Arryn. She was moving towards something behind him, something he determined didn't matter to him just now. "What is this thing?" She asked, but he was too focused at that point to reply, pondering his Brands and wondering if he could access his abilities whilst in the Labyrinth. Nevertheless; after the little stunt with the fire he noticed her. He was doing his best to make sure he noticed everything after that.
Glancing down at his hand Cen pondered just how dissimilar their abilities may be, his mind reeling with questions he wasn't sure he wanted the answers to. And then suddenly his thoughts died away and what was left was a moment's peace. Taking the opportunity he loosed an Aidhr Kehl and watched his Brands very subtly writhe as though breathing. Within himself he could feel the entirety of existence. Every bird, beast, and creature of the briny blue existed within him at that moment and he could feel their hearts pulsing in time with his own, hear their breaths and their cries, feel their every joy and sorrow. Exhaling slowly he ended the spell. Unlike the fireball or the spirit his own ability had made no visible mark upon the world. Despite this it had actively improved his mood. He may be a lone Corian, but as he recalled his magic instructor saying time and again; a Corian mage is never truly alone.
Posted in the IC.
As you can see I've broken up my post a bit so you can each reply separately to your scenario, or to any of those before it.
As you can see I've broken up my post a bit so you can each reply separately to your scenario, or to any of those before it.
"Last chance to head home, kid." Said the man standing beside Cenric; a towering figure of an individual whose callused hands, scarred forearms, and strong build marked him as a warrior; and red-lined vestments marked him as being from the Nest in Ehrvin. He had been, at every step of the journey, attempting to get Cenric and others to leave what he considered to be a fool's errand.
"Thanks, but I'm fine, really; I've made my choice." There was always one in every group from Corian; a man or woman who came along simply to talk people out of entering the Labyrinth... Not that people blamed them. Amidst the people of Corian there was little respect for those who braved the place, and even less actual reason to do so, as the kingdom was fairly unantagonistic. Add to that the fact that it's very existence went against the teachings and you had the recipe for a very heavy sense of mistrust and disapproval from the common people.
Nevertheless, those in charge understood the power and opportunity that the accursed Labyrinth's exchange provided, and more importantly they relied upon the artifacts to keep them safe. Thus the Labyrinthine Expedition Grant had been established; an organization which paid the families of willing individuals who chose to venture there. A group that for the cost of a life would improve the lives of entire families. Kerigs whose parents or grandparents chose to sacrifice themselves could suddenly find themselves with tuition to go to go to the Nest full-time and become a member of the Order.
"Just saying; your mom would probably prefer you alive and well to a stack of cash. Especially after what happened to your si..." The warrior went dead silent as he noticed the brands along the back of Cen's arms come alight, glowing with a strange pallid light. It was just an idle rumor he'd heard, but from the younger man's sudden ire there was apparently some truth to it... He had worked alongside the mage class before, and he recognized the glow for what it was; a threat, a signal that the boy was tapping into the power from which Corian magi drew their abilities. He went still as a stone and twice as silent in the following moments.
After a while Cenric's shoulders slouched, his eyes softened, and a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding escaped from betwixt his teeth. "We're here." He muttered lightly, having felt the caravan come to a full-stop. Whipping back the leather shade that kept it's cargo and passengers from the unforgiving heat of the sun on warm days and the biting chill of rain or snow on colder ones he hopped down onto firm ground and grinned at the satisfying crunch his boots made.
A large ship had left Corian for the mainland. Upon reaching port three caravans had begun the treck inland to the Labyrinth, and as they reached their destination two of these unloaded entirely, their riders packing what belongings and provisions they had gathered and forming lines facing the vast magical construct.
Fifteen of those assembled in Corian backed out at the last moment; worry, wanderlust, and keen wits steering them clear of actually entering. The rest patiently waited, watching other groups from other places trickle in. Amidst these Cenric patiently waited his turn, pulling an apple from his pack and taking a bite. As the juices trickled down his throat and dribbled along his lips he chewed at the fruit idly and tried to think of other things. Dian was safe at home, leaving him feeling as though he were missing a limb, his mother was likely worrying which made him anxious, and knowing his father he was deep in prayer at the moment hoping that Cen returned. "Three..." He said between bites, reminding himself of the creature and people anchoring him to his home, his reasons for returning. Glancing down at his hand, just between his fingers he shook his head and as a resolute glimmer filled his eyes he rescinded his former statement, quietly whispering; "Four."
Slowly it came time and the party from Corian faced the entrance to the Labyrinth. "All together now." Came the call from the party's unofficial leader, a balding and good natured man from Gard who had run a furniture store before deciding to join the expedition.
"Finally." Cen muttered as he took another bite of his apple. His feet marched forwards, his back straightened, and his breathing became more smooth. And then came the light... the overwhelming sense of detachment... Like he was falling asleep without any of the initial tiredness that usually preceded it. Like he was falling while standing in place. Like he was losing sense of whether up was up or it was thirty-seven.
...
"Kf!" Lying on his back Cenric began to cough at the abysmal taste upon his tongue, rolling over to hack and spit at the floor in his urgency to rid himself of it. It had been apple moments ago, but now it just tasted like soot. As he cleared the abhorrent flavor from his palette he also took note of sounds around himself, voices. Blinking in the moonlight he makes out shapes, realizing swiftly they aren't those of the people he entered with.
Glancing around in mild confusion he denotes the odd landscape with passing interest before raising his right hand and grabbing his own ear firmly, giving it a sharp tug and scratching at the lobe with his fingernail. "Ah!" He cries out lightly, seeming half-surprised at the pain. A moment passes and a gigantic grin spreads across his features. "I made it in, and I'm still alive." He mutters softly. "So far so good."
"Thanks, but I'm fine, really; I've made my choice." There was always one in every group from Corian; a man or woman who came along simply to talk people out of entering the Labyrinth... Not that people blamed them. Amidst the people of Corian there was little respect for those who braved the place, and even less actual reason to do so, as the kingdom was fairly unantagonistic. Add to that the fact that it's very existence went against the teachings and you had the recipe for a very heavy sense of mistrust and disapproval from the common people.
Nevertheless, those in charge understood the power and opportunity that the accursed Labyrinth's exchange provided, and more importantly they relied upon the artifacts to keep them safe. Thus the Labyrinthine Expedition Grant had been established; an organization which paid the families of willing individuals who chose to venture there. A group that for the cost of a life would improve the lives of entire families. Kerigs whose parents or grandparents chose to sacrifice themselves could suddenly find themselves with tuition to go to go to the Nest full-time and become a member of the Order.
"Just saying; your mom would probably prefer you alive and well to a stack of cash. Especially after what happened to your si..." The warrior went dead silent as he noticed the brands along the back of Cen's arms come alight, glowing with a strange pallid light. It was just an idle rumor he'd heard, but from the younger man's sudden ire there was apparently some truth to it... He had worked alongside the mage class before, and he recognized the glow for what it was; a threat, a signal that the boy was tapping into the power from which Corian magi drew their abilities. He went still as a stone and twice as silent in the following moments.
After a while Cenric's shoulders slouched, his eyes softened, and a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding escaped from betwixt his teeth. "We're here." He muttered lightly, having felt the caravan come to a full-stop. Whipping back the leather shade that kept it's cargo and passengers from the unforgiving heat of the sun on warm days and the biting chill of rain or snow on colder ones he hopped down onto firm ground and grinned at the satisfying crunch his boots made.
A large ship had left Corian for the mainland. Upon reaching port three caravans had begun the treck inland to the Labyrinth, and as they reached their destination two of these unloaded entirely, their riders packing what belongings and provisions they had gathered and forming lines facing the vast magical construct.
Fifteen of those assembled in Corian backed out at the last moment; worry, wanderlust, and keen wits steering them clear of actually entering. The rest patiently waited, watching other groups from other places trickle in. Amidst these Cenric patiently waited his turn, pulling an apple from his pack and taking a bite. As the juices trickled down his throat and dribbled along his lips he chewed at the fruit idly and tried to think of other things. Dian was safe at home, leaving him feeling as though he were missing a limb, his mother was likely worrying which made him anxious, and knowing his father he was deep in prayer at the moment hoping that Cen returned. "Three..." He said between bites, reminding himself of the creature and people anchoring him to his home, his reasons for returning. Glancing down at his hand, just between his fingers he shook his head and as a resolute glimmer filled his eyes he rescinded his former statement, quietly whispering; "Four."
Slowly it came time and the party from Corian faced the entrance to the Labyrinth. "All together now." Came the call from the party's unofficial leader, a balding and good natured man from Gard who had run a furniture store before deciding to join the expedition.
"Finally." Cen muttered as he took another bite of his apple. His feet marched forwards, his back straightened, and his breathing became more smooth. And then came the light... the overwhelming sense of detachment... Like he was falling asleep without any of the initial tiredness that usually preceded it. Like he was falling while standing in place. Like he was losing sense of whether up was up or it was thirty-seven.
...
"Kf!" Lying on his back Cenric began to cough at the abysmal taste upon his tongue, rolling over to hack and spit at the floor in his urgency to rid himself of it. It had been apple moments ago, but now it just tasted like soot. As he cleared the abhorrent flavor from his palette he also took note of sounds around himself, voices. Blinking in the moonlight he makes out shapes, realizing swiftly they aren't those of the people he entered with.
Glancing around in mild confusion he denotes the odd landscape with passing interest before raising his right hand and grabbing his own ear firmly, giving it a sharp tug and scratching at the lobe with his fingernail. "Ah!" He cries out lightly, seeming half-surprised at the pain. A moment passes and a gigantic grin spreads across his features. "I made it in, and I'm still alive." He mutters softly. "So far so good."
Glancing down at the hoodie the caretaker smirked and let loose a small chuckle, seeming amused rather than upset. "It's not bad. A bit straightforward, but not bad. You know when I was about your age I played drums in a group called 'Eyeballs in my Oatmeal'." She winked knowingly, reassuringly, attempting to let the girl know that everything would be alright. "Leave it. Compared to the guy wearing a sandwich costume I'd say you're doing okay." With that she walked away, smiling softly as she did so.
And there, lo and behold, was a young man in a sandwich costume. He peeked his head into the assembly awkwardly, his cheeks flushed red. It just went to show; it took all kinds make a pantheon. If she were to truly look around she would notice other oddities. Amidst the twenty or thirty assembled there was a woman wearing a wedding dress replete with a veil, an older man with no shirt whose torso, neck, and skull were coated in tattoos, and even a girl wearing of those animal onesies called kirugumis.
Glancing down at his hand in confusion for a moment Kendall tried to figure out just why she was being so antsy, not that it really mattered. Nerves, germophobia, some sort of dangerous ability; anything was possible really, and considering that it was best not to pry too much. "Pl hk! easure to meet you, Ma Khn! tilda." He said with an expression that looked like he was attempting to force a smile through a wince. Hiccups! Why hiccups? He pondered as he followed her eyes around the room, glancing at the numerous individuals scattered about. They were certainly an... interesting... group. Many of them seemed normal enough, a handful were peculiar but more the kind of peculiar you would have found on a crowded bus before the End than the kind that reeked of marvelous purpose and power, that being said here and there an individual was... changed. Not in big ways; no one had sprouted wings, or horns, or grown extra arms or eyeballs, but there were still peculiarities. Silver hair. Gold colored eyes. A slight glow about the skin. It wasn't the norm, but it was happening, some of the abilities overwriting people.
Glancing down at himself Kendall... "Hic!" Kendall frowned and tried to... "Hn!" He frowned and tried to imagine what would have happened if he'd lucked out and gotten some snazzy update to his look, or even just been able to do away with the bandages and the splint.
His thoughts shattered and his eyes flitted back to Matilda, a small smile crossed his features, much more comfortable this time around. "I'm pretty sure if you were, you'd hn! 've done so at least once already... and that being said; I'm sure it ghnk! would have hc! been memorable."
It was at roughly this time that a bearded man in a fine suit stepped towards both himself and his speaking companion; a welcome interaction, in the best of times, but considering he came bearing water it was made all the more-so. Nodding gratefully Kendall took the cup, and almost instantly placed the hand not holding it over the top. "HNN!" Came a rather large hiccup that shook his shoulders and left him looking rattled. His hand was now cold as he had managed to splash it severely, but his foresight at least meant he hadn't spilled it all over the ground, or himself.
Taking a sip he looked relieved, until roughly a third of the way down his throat the water was suddenly forcefully ejected via another large hiccup. Managing to keep his mouth closed this was made apparent by the rather impressive leak now spouting from his nose. Bowing his head in embarrassment he hurriedly gulped down what remained of the water in his mouth and pulled a pack of tissues from his pocket, carefully blowing his nose. Unfortunately this was not an unusual position for him to find himself in, considering some of his allergies.
As he rose back to a standing position his head swiveled around, questing for a garbage can, but he was a bit startled to find someone standing at his side holding a small aluminum bin up for him to deposit his waste in. The Caretakers, it seemed, were ready for any eventuality.
Turning back to his fellow Wild Gods with an apologetic look upon his features Kendall attempted to get the conversation bak on track. "That's from... Ad... hc!! ams. Douglas Adams, one of his books, right? I read those when I was in middle school, back before..." He trailed off, as people commonly did when bringing up the End.
Hearing Matilda chime in he turned to her again and nodded. "Ah, right. Thank you, Mr. hn.. Murdoch." His hiccups hadn't abated, but it was readily apparent to anyone that they were lessening.
A hush settled over the hall as a tall man in a dark gray suit stepped out from behind a curtain. He was thing, gaunt even, and his eyes were the color of coals still flickering with embers. Above each of those burning eyes was what looked like a long scar trailing back into his hairline, a reminder of the life he had left behind, and the form he had forsaken. His features were lean and striking; his skin and general build made him appear as though he had stepped off the screen of a Hollywood movie about an ancient Pharaoh and directly into a tailors to get himself fitted for the clothes he wore. His nails were thick and black, and as he stepped to the podium they sunk into the wood out of sight of those assembled. Nervousness was not something he was prone to feeling, but this time of year he did... these mortals, these humans were not true deities, but in their collective presence he could remember what it was like to face one. The awe and fear and adoration it had inspired in him. The reason he had turned on his murderous kin for something more than himself.
Clearing his throat the man drew the attention of nearly all assembled, even those few who had been making an active effort to ignore him.
"Ladies and gentlemen of Million." He began, his back straight, his jaw firm, and his gaze sweeping the room intently. "My name, as you will likely have surmised by now, is Arven. It is my honor and duty as First Minister to welcome you all to Grayhall. More importantly it falls upon me to welcome you to your new lives." Closing his eyes he allowed himself a moment in which to remember the faces of each individual gathered, as he did every year, making certain that were they to fall someone would remember them.
"You have been chosen by fate..." A small smile crossed his lips as he said this, fleeting but vibrant. He could still recall the first time he had encountered the Wild Gods, just after the end. Where instead of pretty words like fate he had said simply 'what the hell is going on' in confusion and outrage. Though; by this point only a handful would remember that, he supposed. "Chosen to preserve humanity."
He took another pause, this one more planned, and opened his eyes. "You have been granted power, but also opportunity. The opportunity to be leaders among men, and to do what all great leaders should aspire to do; to teach, to protect, and to inspire." He stepped back from the podium and around to the small steps leading from the stage to the main floor.
"Some of you know what I'm talking about, but for those who don't, I'll be blunt. The demons are out there, I can smell the reek of their infernal power all around us, as you will learn to in time. They are out there, and they seek to do us harm. Many of you have lost lives to their number both in the End and after it; pets, friends, children, parents, lovers. Families have been torn asunder, homes shattered, and a universe ended by their senseless and rapacious existence."
He stepped nearer to the wild gods. Several noticeably backed away, the boy with the bird stood there in awe, staring up at the towering man as he spoke to him. "You've been given a great gift, Carter. You, dear boy, are the Wild God of birds. A vast and powerful aspect which with training could allow you to save hundreds, even thousands of lives." The mighty First Minister, a powerful demon, and the god of humanity then did something which no Wild God had ever spoken of with the common people. What he had done at each of these ceremonies since the informal first. He bowed low and said in a half-broken whisper; "Please, child. Please help us." After a long moment wherein the boy's face seemed to flicker through a maelstrom of emotion he nodded, and Arven rose and shook his hand. "Bless you."
Moving to the next individual, the woman who had been speaking to Carter, he smiled and spoke once more; "Lizbeth." He began, sighing softly. "You too have been blessed. I sense within you the aspect of Charity. While it's power is not so great, it could make you a capable and competent leader, and could bring you much love and happiness in the future. Despite that I must ask..." He bowed low again, his head all but touching the floor. "Please, dear girl, please help us." She gingerly touched his shoulder, bidding him to rise, and nodded, her eyes tearing up at the humility of such an important figure pleading with her, her heart almost breaking with the urge to help. He shook her hand and moved on, with the same parting words; "Bless you."
And so it went for some time as he went to each of the new Wild Gods in turn. Most assented after his words, some agreed without even letting him speak. The man in the sandwich costume raised a hand to silence him and the pair held a hushed conversation over a long and tenuous moment after which he once more offered the same handshake, blessing him once more.
Each, and every new deity.
...
"Smith. The god of Engineering. A fascinating subject, and one with great applications in the coming battles against demon-kin should you decide to aid us... A mighty power, indeed." He bowed his head; "Please, help us."
...
"Mortimer. God of the written language. You could live an easy life as a writer, or an editor, or even in the position you now hold... but I have a feeling you want more. I think you've half decided to join already..." He smiled and gazed into Mortimer's eyes and in that moment he spoke without speaking, something that only Mr. Murdoch would hear. You, especially, we'll need for the coming battles, Mr. Murdoch. You see... I can't read the language of God. With this cryptic message he bowed his head and said; "Please, help us, good sir."
...
"Yes." Kendall said, even before Arven managed to open his mouth. He was trembling, but wasn't sure if it was nerves or excitement. All his life he had been a screw-up, a fall-guy, a klutz, and a loser. He was comfortable with his lot in life, if not thrilled with it, and managed to be happy enough besides; but who wouldn't want more? Who wouldn't want a chance to not just be tolerated, but adored. To not just be useful, but a savior? He hiccuped and forced a grin apologetically.
Smiling at the swift response Arven took his hand, and bowing said; "Bless you, Kendall, God of Lost Causes." Leaving Kendall horribly confused, but giddy.
...
"Matilda, dear girl." He said lightly, looking down at the bespectacled young agoraphobic. "You've shown great bravery in coming here, despite yourself. I thank you for it. But I'm afraid I must ask more of you. You know what I mean to say, and you're scared. That's understandable, and no one would fault you if you said no... but I still have to ask, and all I can offer in return is the knowledge that you are stronger than you think." The way he said it made it seem unquestionable, not a statement but a FACT that could not be denied. "And that you have my trust, oh Goddess of the Between." He bowed and said softly; "Please, help us."
...
Eventually making his way to the mad girl Arven loosed a soft sigh, and uncharacteristically raised his hand and gently touched Jennifer's cheek. "Poor girl..." He said lightly, his ember eyes stricken and sad like those of a parent consoling their child. "You have been given an awesome and terrible power, but it's price is great." He sighed and stepped back a bit. "Jennifer, Goddess of Madness; should you choose to aid us I tell you now that these people are those with some level of immunity to your ability. Until we can find a way to better control your power these are the people it's safe for you to be around, the few who could be your friends, your new family, if you let them." He smiled sadly and bowed. "Please, help us."
...
"Marcus, dear boy. As I'm sure you're already aware you have been granted a new life as the God of Gambling. A bit young for it, but who am I to bicker over vices?" He asked with a slightly mischievous grin that faded almost as soon as it touched his face. "I'm asking you now to take a gamble with the highest odds possible; risk your life. If you win, you will have fame, glory, and the continuation of human existence. If you lose, well..." He bowed his head, asking as he had every other time; "Please help us."
And there, lo and behold, was a young man in a sandwich costume. He peeked his head into the assembly awkwardly, his cheeks flushed red. It just went to show; it took all kinds make a pantheon. If she were to truly look around she would notice other oddities. Amidst the twenty or thirty assembled there was a woman wearing a wedding dress replete with a veil, an older man with no shirt whose torso, neck, and skull were coated in tattoos, and even a girl wearing of those animal onesies called kirugumis.
Glancing down at his hand in confusion for a moment Kendall tried to figure out just why she was being so antsy, not that it really mattered. Nerves, germophobia, some sort of dangerous ability; anything was possible really, and considering that it was best not to pry too much. "Pl hk! easure to meet you, Ma Khn! tilda." He said with an expression that looked like he was attempting to force a smile through a wince. Hiccups! Why hiccups? He pondered as he followed her eyes around the room, glancing at the numerous individuals scattered about. They were certainly an... interesting... group. Many of them seemed normal enough, a handful were peculiar but more the kind of peculiar you would have found on a crowded bus before the End than the kind that reeked of marvelous purpose and power, that being said here and there an individual was... changed. Not in big ways; no one had sprouted wings, or horns, or grown extra arms or eyeballs, but there were still peculiarities. Silver hair. Gold colored eyes. A slight glow about the skin. It wasn't the norm, but it was happening, some of the abilities overwriting people.
Glancing down at himself Kendall... "Hic!" Kendall frowned and tried to... "Hn!" He frowned and tried to imagine what would have happened if he'd lucked out and gotten some snazzy update to his look, or even just been able to do away with the bandages and the splint.
His thoughts shattered and his eyes flitted back to Matilda, a small smile crossed his features, much more comfortable this time around. "I'm pretty sure if you were, you'd hn! 've done so at least once already... and that being said; I'm sure it ghnk! would have hc! been memorable."
It was at roughly this time that a bearded man in a fine suit stepped towards both himself and his speaking companion; a welcome interaction, in the best of times, but considering he came bearing water it was made all the more-so. Nodding gratefully Kendall took the cup, and almost instantly placed the hand not holding it over the top. "HNN!" Came a rather large hiccup that shook his shoulders and left him looking rattled. His hand was now cold as he had managed to splash it severely, but his foresight at least meant he hadn't spilled it all over the ground, or himself.
Taking a sip he looked relieved, until roughly a third of the way down his throat the water was suddenly forcefully ejected via another large hiccup. Managing to keep his mouth closed this was made apparent by the rather impressive leak now spouting from his nose. Bowing his head in embarrassment he hurriedly gulped down what remained of the water in his mouth and pulled a pack of tissues from his pocket, carefully blowing his nose. Unfortunately this was not an unusual position for him to find himself in, considering some of his allergies.
As he rose back to a standing position his head swiveled around, questing for a garbage can, but he was a bit startled to find someone standing at his side holding a small aluminum bin up for him to deposit his waste in. The Caretakers, it seemed, were ready for any eventuality.
Turning back to his fellow Wild Gods with an apologetic look upon his features Kendall attempted to get the conversation bak on track. "That's from... Ad... hc!! ams. Douglas Adams, one of his books, right? I read those when I was in middle school, back before..." He trailed off, as people commonly did when bringing up the End.
Hearing Matilda chime in he turned to her again and nodded. "Ah, right. Thank you, Mr. hn.. Murdoch." His hiccups hadn't abated, but it was readily apparent to anyone that they were lessening.
A hush settled over the hall as a tall man in a dark gray suit stepped out from behind a curtain. He was thing, gaunt even, and his eyes were the color of coals still flickering with embers. Above each of those burning eyes was what looked like a long scar trailing back into his hairline, a reminder of the life he had left behind, and the form he had forsaken. His features were lean and striking; his skin and general build made him appear as though he had stepped off the screen of a Hollywood movie about an ancient Pharaoh and directly into a tailors to get himself fitted for the clothes he wore. His nails were thick and black, and as he stepped to the podium they sunk into the wood out of sight of those assembled. Nervousness was not something he was prone to feeling, but this time of year he did... these mortals, these humans were not true deities, but in their collective presence he could remember what it was like to face one. The awe and fear and adoration it had inspired in him. The reason he had turned on his murderous kin for something more than himself.
Clearing his throat the man drew the attention of nearly all assembled, even those few who had been making an active effort to ignore him.
"Ladies and gentlemen of Million." He began, his back straight, his jaw firm, and his gaze sweeping the room intently. "My name, as you will likely have surmised by now, is Arven. It is my honor and duty as First Minister to welcome you all to Grayhall. More importantly it falls upon me to welcome you to your new lives." Closing his eyes he allowed himself a moment in which to remember the faces of each individual gathered, as he did every year, making certain that were they to fall someone would remember them.
"You have been chosen by fate..." A small smile crossed his lips as he said this, fleeting but vibrant. He could still recall the first time he had encountered the Wild Gods, just after the end. Where instead of pretty words like fate he had said simply 'what the hell is going on' in confusion and outrage. Though; by this point only a handful would remember that, he supposed. "Chosen to preserve humanity."
He took another pause, this one more planned, and opened his eyes. "You have been granted power, but also opportunity. The opportunity to be leaders among men, and to do what all great leaders should aspire to do; to teach, to protect, and to inspire." He stepped back from the podium and around to the small steps leading from the stage to the main floor.
"Some of you know what I'm talking about, but for those who don't, I'll be blunt. The demons are out there, I can smell the reek of their infernal power all around us, as you will learn to in time. They are out there, and they seek to do us harm. Many of you have lost lives to their number both in the End and after it; pets, friends, children, parents, lovers. Families have been torn asunder, homes shattered, and a universe ended by their senseless and rapacious existence."
He stepped nearer to the wild gods. Several noticeably backed away, the boy with the bird stood there in awe, staring up at the towering man as he spoke to him. "You've been given a great gift, Carter. You, dear boy, are the Wild God of birds. A vast and powerful aspect which with training could allow you to save hundreds, even thousands of lives." The mighty First Minister, a powerful demon, and the god of humanity then did something which no Wild God had ever spoken of with the common people. What he had done at each of these ceremonies since the informal first. He bowed low and said in a half-broken whisper; "Please, child. Please help us." After a long moment wherein the boy's face seemed to flicker through a maelstrom of emotion he nodded, and Arven rose and shook his hand. "Bless you."
Moving to the next individual, the woman who had been speaking to Carter, he smiled and spoke once more; "Lizbeth." He began, sighing softly. "You too have been blessed. I sense within you the aspect of Charity. While it's power is not so great, it could make you a capable and competent leader, and could bring you much love and happiness in the future. Despite that I must ask..." He bowed low again, his head all but touching the floor. "Please, dear girl, please help us." She gingerly touched his shoulder, bidding him to rise, and nodded, her eyes tearing up at the humility of such an important figure pleading with her, her heart almost breaking with the urge to help. He shook her hand and moved on, with the same parting words; "Bless you."
And so it went for some time as he went to each of the new Wild Gods in turn. Most assented after his words, some agreed without even letting him speak. The man in the sandwich costume raised a hand to silence him and the pair held a hushed conversation over a long and tenuous moment after which he once more offered the same handshake, blessing him once more.
Each, and every new deity.
...
"Smith. The god of Engineering. A fascinating subject, and one with great applications in the coming battles against demon-kin should you decide to aid us... A mighty power, indeed." He bowed his head; "Please, help us."
...
"Mortimer. God of the written language. You could live an easy life as a writer, or an editor, or even in the position you now hold... but I have a feeling you want more. I think you've half decided to join already..." He smiled and gazed into Mortimer's eyes and in that moment he spoke without speaking, something that only Mr. Murdoch would hear. You, especially, we'll need for the coming battles, Mr. Murdoch. You see... I can't read the language of God. With this cryptic message he bowed his head and said; "Please, help us, good sir."
...
"Yes." Kendall said, even before Arven managed to open his mouth. He was trembling, but wasn't sure if it was nerves or excitement. All his life he had been a screw-up, a fall-guy, a klutz, and a loser. He was comfortable with his lot in life, if not thrilled with it, and managed to be happy enough besides; but who wouldn't want more? Who wouldn't want a chance to not just be tolerated, but adored. To not just be useful, but a savior? He hiccuped and forced a grin apologetically.
Smiling at the swift response Arven took his hand, and bowing said; "Bless you, Kendall, God of Lost Causes." Leaving Kendall horribly confused, but giddy.
...
"Matilda, dear girl." He said lightly, looking down at the bespectacled young agoraphobic. "You've shown great bravery in coming here, despite yourself. I thank you for it. But I'm afraid I must ask more of you. You know what I mean to say, and you're scared. That's understandable, and no one would fault you if you said no... but I still have to ask, and all I can offer in return is the knowledge that you are stronger than you think." The way he said it made it seem unquestionable, not a statement but a FACT that could not be denied. "And that you have my trust, oh Goddess of the Between." He bowed and said softly; "Please, help us."
...
Eventually making his way to the mad girl Arven loosed a soft sigh, and uncharacteristically raised his hand and gently touched Jennifer's cheek. "Poor girl..." He said lightly, his ember eyes stricken and sad like those of a parent consoling their child. "You have been given an awesome and terrible power, but it's price is great." He sighed and stepped back a bit. "Jennifer, Goddess of Madness; should you choose to aid us I tell you now that these people are those with some level of immunity to your ability. Until we can find a way to better control your power these are the people it's safe for you to be around, the few who could be your friends, your new family, if you let them." He smiled sadly and bowed. "Please, help us."
...
"Marcus, dear boy. As I'm sure you're already aware you have been granted a new life as the God of Gambling. A bit young for it, but who am I to bicker over vices?" He asked with a slightly mischievous grin that faded almost as soon as it touched his face. "I'm asking you now to take a gamble with the highest odds possible; risk your life. If you win, you will have fame, glory, and the continuation of human existence. If you lose, well..." He bowed his head, asking as he had every other time; "Please help us."
Glancing at the mass of downed Ursa the copper-haired kid sighed and nodded in agreement. It was obvious that it had been his handiwork as he was still amidst their dead, and even more to the point there was fur clinging to his clothes. "That may be the case, but 'tired' is a luxury we really can't afford to take with the sheer number of enemies around here." Speaking of time it was readily apparent that the sooner they got their relic and got out the better. The Beowolf had been drawn by the sounds of Lupus' fight with the Ursa, and any moment now more Grimm could come rounding the corner searching for the source of the gunshot... It had been fairly loud, even when compared with his earlier combat. Noise buffering would have to be more focused on when he reworked Pikne next time.
"I mean; if I hadn't been around you would have been wolf-chow, and considering how many of these guys seem to be in the city the odds are I won't always be around. I might get picked off and eaten as we round the next corner. Or we could be split up and suddenly find ourselves being chased down blind alleys only to be impaled on the tusks of rampaging Boarbatusks. Better yet we could wind up being jumped by a bigger pack of Beowolves and completely swarmed over, not noticing more Ursa amongst the numbers and not being prepared when their massive paws slice open our bellies. Or heck; we could survive near disembowelment by all the horrors this city has to offer only to be picked up by a passing Nevermore and dropped to our deaths a hundred feet below as we panicked and attempted to come to terms with the fact we were no longer on the ground." His eyes were a bit distant as he said all this, honestly contemplating his own demise in a roundabout way. It was an interesting, if morbid topic. Still; it could happen.
For now of course he didn't have time for such thoughts, especially considering he was fairly certain he could hear the scratching and scraping of claws on asphalt not far off. There were more, all around; whether they were aware of the presence of himself and his partner he was unaware, but they were close. The entire city, it seemed, was teeming with Grimm around every corner; much more than he had initially expected.
"Vask." He replied with a courteous, if slightly uncomfortable nod. Pink eyes flashed from beneath his bangs, glancing at Lupus' sword and then at the Ursa once more, causing him to worry a bit. The strikes seemed deep but erratic and he gave himself a mental reminder not to stand too close to his new partner in a fight, just in case. "My name is Vask." He didn't bother looking at his ally as he said this, instead turning his head this way and that, attempting to listen for something else, some small hint that they were headed in the right direction.
Grumbling impatiently he turned his head towards what he roughly estimated was the city's center and nodded to himself. That was the way to go if he had to guess, which considering their less than stellar instructions he did. Looking to one of the dilapidated buildings he grinned to himself and walked over, taking hold of an exposed wall beam that had been split some time ago. With a slight grunt of effort he pulled at the beam, kicking loose bricks from around it's base until it came free. "This should work..." He muttered to himself, finally winding up with a plank of wood a bit longer than he was tall.
Feeling content with his acquisition he turned back from the ruined building towards the city's center and reaching up with his plank managed to swat the end of a rickety ladder attached to an out of use fire escape which he climbed swiftly, hauling the plank up awkwardly as he went. "Do try to keep up." He called down, having set into motion without consulting his ally... not that he figured there would be much use in that. He didn't trust the guy, an odds were he would wind up saying something insulting or irritating that would anger him if they really got to talking. Best to keep things quiet and keep them civil... At least until the situation was a bit less dangerous and he could think through his words and hopefully not wind up in a fistfight or completely shunned by yet another person.
His plan was simple and his intent clear; use the plank to walk across the gaps between buildings. Leaping them would be necessary in some places probably, but the plank would save extra energy they may need for fighting later. Besides; it could be used as a first line of defense; to swat or throw at oncoming Grimm. If all went well they would make it to the city's center in a few dozen minutes, find their relics, and then they could just hole up somewhere Grimm-free until the teleport back occurred.
Of course plans were not the end all-be all. Even as he reached the roof he could hear something on the wind in the direction they were heading. Something that would become clearer as voices as they got nearer. Something he found himself moving very quickly towards without really thinking about it.
"I mean; if I hadn't been around you would have been wolf-chow, and considering how many of these guys seem to be in the city the odds are I won't always be around. I might get picked off and eaten as we round the next corner. Or we could be split up and suddenly find ourselves being chased down blind alleys only to be impaled on the tusks of rampaging Boarbatusks. Better yet we could wind up being jumped by a bigger pack of Beowolves and completely swarmed over, not noticing more Ursa amongst the numbers and not being prepared when their massive paws slice open our bellies. Or heck; we could survive near disembowelment by all the horrors this city has to offer only to be picked up by a passing Nevermore and dropped to our deaths a hundred feet below as we panicked and attempted to come to terms with the fact we were no longer on the ground." His eyes were a bit distant as he said all this, honestly contemplating his own demise in a roundabout way. It was an interesting, if morbid topic. Still; it could happen.
For now of course he didn't have time for such thoughts, especially considering he was fairly certain he could hear the scratching and scraping of claws on asphalt not far off. There were more, all around; whether they were aware of the presence of himself and his partner he was unaware, but they were close. The entire city, it seemed, was teeming with Grimm around every corner; much more than he had initially expected.
"Vask." He replied with a courteous, if slightly uncomfortable nod. Pink eyes flashed from beneath his bangs, glancing at Lupus' sword and then at the Ursa once more, causing him to worry a bit. The strikes seemed deep but erratic and he gave himself a mental reminder not to stand too close to his new partner in a fight, just in case. "My name is Vask." He didn't bother looking at his ally as he said this, instead turning his head this way and that, attempting to listen for something else, some small hint that they were headed in the right direction.
Grumbling impatiently he turned his head towards what he roughly estimated was the city's center and nodded to himself. That was the way to go if he had to guess, which considering their less than stellar instructions he did. Looking to one of the dilapidated buildings he grinned to himself and walked over, taking hold of an exposed wall beam that had been split some time ago. With a slight grunt of effort he pulled at the beam, kicking loose bricks from around it's base until it came free. "This should work..." He muttered to himself, finally winding up with a plank of wood a bit longer than he was tall.
Feeling content with his acquisition he turned back from the ruined building towards the city's center and reaching up with his plank managed to swat the end of a rickety ladder attached to an out of use fire escape which he climbed swiftly, hauling the plank up awkwardly as he went. "Do try to keep up." He called down, having set into motion without consulting his ally... not that he figured there would be much use in that. He didn't trust the guy, an odds were he would wind up saying something insulting or irritating that would anger him if they really got to talking. Best to keep things quiet and keep them civil... At least until the situation was a bit less dangerous and he could think through his words and hopefully not wind up in a fistfight or completely shunned by yet another person.
His plan was simple and his intent clear; use the plank to walk across the gaps between buildings. Leaping them would be necessary in some places probably, but the plank would save extra energy they may need for fighting later. Besides; it could be used as a first line of defense; to swat or throw at oncoming Grimm. If all went well they would make it to the city's center in a few dozen minutes, find their relics, and then they could just hole up somewhere Grimm-free until the teleport back occurred.
Of course plans were not the end all-be all. Even as he reached the roof he could hear something on the wind in the direction they were heading. Something that would become clearer as voices as they got nearer. Something he found himself moving very quickly towards without really thinking about it.
Appearance:
Name:Cenric Winifred Hargrave
Age:25
Where do you hail from?: The Southern Kingdom of Corian; The City of Gard:: The Serpent's Nest
The kingdom of Corian is a small island nation governed by a mago-theocratic union of individuals known as The Arc-Mabehn which translates roughly to Arch-Bishops in the common tongue.
The common religion of the nation is that of Uliphetism which teaches that at the start of the world it was not men who ruled, but beasts. The teachings claim that beasts were more powerful, more arcane, and wiser than we can begin to imagine, but the early humans stole magic and might, and even intelligence from beasts until they were the dominant race. They left only a handful of the Great Beasts, those who fled to the stars. Greatest of these were Uliphetes the Serpent and Vaen the Bull. Vaen was angry at mankind for taking the power and the purpose of his fellow beasts and sought to destroy us, but Uliphetes was a serpent, and serpents are cunning creatures... they saw some of themselves in the craftiness of man and took mercy on us. Using their wiles Uliphetes tricked Vaen into traveling to the far side of the universe and then coiled himself about the universe to protect us from Vaen's rage, his mighty scales rebuffing the terrible strikes of the great bull's horns for all the millennia since.
Following these lessons the people view Uliphetes as a God-like figure, and have built temples in his honor where beasts, specifically serpents, are revered. Furthermore the number one foodstuff of Corian is beef as they have what can almost be considered a religious fervor for the slaying and eating of cows and bulls.
The leaders of the nation are the three Arch-Bishops, leaders of temples at the major cities of Gard, Vesperin, and Ehrvin. They communicate by missive and run the nation as a group, promoting the great teachings of Uliphetes; namely those of cunning, magic, and compassion.
There is a class system in place in Corian. The religious leaders and their acolytes are at the top, known collectively as Uliber. Then the magi and warriors who are known as Sentir, or guardians, those who join the Order; the military branch of Corian. Thirdly come merchants of all types who are known as Berda. And lastly the commoners who usually wind up in labor, culinary, or construction jobs and are called Kerig.
While growing up those who seek to become Uliber are sent to the temples to learn. Those from warrior or mage families who wish to defend the nation are sent to the Serpent's Nests, academies where combat is taught alongside general studies. Berda are usually enrolled in trade schools at a young age, leaving the regular schools to the Kerig.
Regardless of class the people of Corian are encouraged, though not forced, to create a bond with one of the Ul-Serpentes; the white snakes who legends rumor are the children of Uliphetes. These small serpents form lifelong bonds with the people of Corian, using them for warmth and providing protection and companionship in return. The creatures are believed sacred and live roughly 13 to 15 years. Commonly a human will bond with two to three generations of one serpent's lineage.
The people of Corian view the Labyrinth with equal parts awe and distaste. Its magical artifacts hold great power, and they value power; but the uncertainty and the un-living nature of the place perturbs them. As their power, their magic, and their culture is derived from the living; from men and beasts, the idea of items of such power being borne of a place rather than a being doesn't mesh well with their religion. In the manner of all people of intellect many from Corian work around their dislike and mistrust of the place, knowing its value and hoping that Uliphetes will bless them with cunning enough to succeed where others have failed.
The higher casts of Corian have little to do with the other nations; their focus is on the internal running of the nation, and its protection. As such it is left to the Berda to forge the majority of the nation’s bonds and relations with other places; they do this primarily by trade. Corian is ore-rich, and their jewelers are keen businessmen, knowing when to push a price and when to back down even in major trades. Furthermore the nation has a large bounty of both cattle and salt, which is happily ships to other places in return for cloth, spices, and fresh fruits of which it has fairly little. For the most part these dealings have made the place a number of fond friends throughout their neighboring nations, and when forced to act on a bigger scale the Arch-Bishops are keen negotiators. Their projected stance is ever one of peace, yet like the great beast to whom they give praise they keep their fangs ever-sharp and in dealings with smaller or weaker nations are always looking for the right time to strike.
What are your reasons for crossing the Gate of the Labyrinth?: He has decided to venture into the labyrinth in quest of a fortune to call his own. Despite the dangers, despite the risk, and despite the minute chance of success... Because in his free time he has been studying the holy books of his people. He has learned of ancient beasts long since deemed deceased where he comes from. Horned beasts graced with immortality... Birds which died and were reborn time and again. Because if he had the funding he could get his instructors to listen to him, to help him research the creatures, and attempt to call upon their magicks... He could solve Death, and get his sister back.
How would you describe yourself?: At a glance most people would consider Cenric cold, jaded, and shut-off due to his weary and somewhat intimidating appearance. This, however, could not be further from the truth. Cen, unfortunately or not, fits well into the stereotype of a gently giant. He is friendly, caring, and hospitable to any who give him the time of day. While he can be a bit morbid at times due to his somewhat less than pleasant background he is never intentionally mean or startling, and can in fact be quite soft-spoken, leading people to pay close attention when he does raise his voice.
And your morals and ideals?: If one word could summarize the way Cen sees the world; it's respect. A proper respect for his peers, his betters, and those less fortunate means he treats everyone well regardless of their station so long as they do the same to him. But it also means that he doesn't hold anyone above himself. He believes that with hard work and effort anyone can surpass anyone else; be it a friend, a teacher, or death itself.
What do you consider yourself to be skilled in?:
Despite his poor vision and general clumsiness Cenric is an able and adept learner, capable of picking up new information and learning new skills at a fairly accelerated pace; a skill which aided him greatly in his late transition from metal to magic amidst the Order.
Any fears or weaknesses that you hold?:
Despite himself Cen shares the fear of most younger Corians. He fears bulls, believing despite his claims that "It's just superstition" that they are vessels of Vaen, and out to endanger or actively harm people.
Which part of your body do you value the most?: His left hand. The hand with which he weilds his sword, the one upon which the first of his Marks of the Order were scrawled, and the one which bears the tattoo of his sister's name.
Stats:
Strength: 5
Leg Stuff: 6
Dexterity: 2
Homogenized Body Stuff: 7
Name:Cenric Winifred Hargrave
Age:25
Where do you hail from?: The Southern Kingdom of Corian; The City of Gard:: The Serpent's Nest
The kingdom of Corian is a small island nation governed by a mago-theocratic union of individuals known as The Arc-Mabehn which translates roughly to Arch-Bishops in the common tongue.
The common religion of the nation is that of Uliphetism which teaches that at the start of the world it was not men who ruled, but beasts. The teachings claim that beasts were more powerful, more arcane, and wiser than we can begin to imagine, but the early humans stole magic and might, and even intelligence from beasts until they were the dominant race. They left only a handful of the Great Beasts, those who fled to the stars. Greatest of these were Uliphetes the Serpent and Vaen the Bull. Vaen was angry at mankind for taking the power and the purpose of his fellow beasts and sought to destroy us, but Uliphetes was a serpent, and serpents are cunning creatures... they saw some of themselves in the craftiness of man and took mercy on us. Using their wiles Uliphetes tricked Vaen into traveling to the far side of the universe and then coiled himself about the universe to protect us from Vaen's rage, his mighty scales rebuffing the terrible strikes of the great bull's horns for all the millennia since.
Following these lessons the people view Uliphetes as a God-like figure, and have built temples in his honor where beasts, specifically serpents, are revered. Furthermore the number one foodstuff of Corian is beef as they have what can almost be considered a religious fervor for the slaying and eating of cows and bulls.
The leaders of the nation are the three Arch-Bishops, leaders of temples at the major cities of Gard, Vesperin, and Ehrvin. They communicate by missive and run the nation as a group, promoting the great teachings of Uliphetes; namely those of cunning, magic, and compassion.
There is a class system in place in Corian. The religious leaders and their acolytes are at the top, known collectively as Uliber. Then the magi and warriors who are known as Sentir, or guardians, those who join the Order; the military branch of Corian. Thirdly come merchants of all types who are known as Berda. And lastly the commoners who usually wind up in labor, culinary, or construction jobs and are called Kerig.
While growing up those who seek to become Uliber are sent to the temples to learn. Those from warrior or mage families who wish to defend the nation are sent to the Serpent's Nests, academies where combat is taught alongside general studies. Berda are usually enrolled in trade schools at a young age, leaving the regular schools to the Kerig.
Regardless of class the people of Corian are encouraged, though not forced, to create a bond with one of the Ul-Serpentes; the white snakes who legends rumor are the children of Uliphetes. These small serpents form lifelong bonds with the people of Corian, using them for warmth and providing protection and companionship in return. The creatures are believed sacred and live roughly 13 to 15 years. Commonly a human will bond with two to three generations of one serpent's lineage.
The people of Corian view the Labyrinth with equal parts awe and distaste. Its magical artifacts hold great power, and they value power; but the uncertainty and the un-living nature of the place perturbs them. As their power, their magic, and their culture is derived from the living; from men and beasts, the idea of items of such power being borne of a place rather than a being doesn't mesh well with their religion. In the manner of all people of intellect many from Corian work around their dislike and mistrust of the place, knowing its value and hoping that Uliphetes will bless them with cunning enough to succeed where others have failed.
The higher casts of Corian have little to do with the other nations; their focus is on the internal running of the nation, and its protection. As such it is left to the Berda to forge the majority of the nation’s bonds and relations with other places; they do this primarily by trade. Corian is ore-rich, and their jewelers are keen businessmen, knowing when to push a price and when to back down even in major trades. Furthermore the nation has a large bounty of both cattle and salt, which is happily ships to other places in return for cloth, spices, and fresh fruits of which it has fairly little. For the most part these dealings have made the place a number of fond friends throughout their neighboring nations, and when forced to act on a bigger scale the Arch-Bishops are keen negotiators. Their projected stance is ever one of peace, yet like the great beast to whom they give praise they keep their fangs ever-sharp and in dealings with smaller or weaker nations are always looking for the right time to strike.
What are your reasons for crossing the Gate of the Labyrinth?: He has decided to venture into the labyrinth in quest of a fortune to call his own. Despite the dangers, despite the risk, and despite the minute chance of success... Because in his free time he has been studying the holy books of his people. He has learned of ancient beasts long since deemed deceased where he comes from. Horned beasts graced with immortality... Birds which died and were reborn time and again. Because if he had the funding he could get his instructors to listen to him, to help him research the creatures, and attempt to call upon their magicks... He could solve Death, and get his sister back.
How would you describe yourself?: At a glance most people would consider Cenric cold, jaded, and shut-off due to his weary and somewhat intimidating appearance. This, however, could not be further from the truth. Cen, unfortunately or not, fits well into the stereotype of a gently giant. He is friendly, caring, and hospitable to any who give him the time of day. While he can be a bit morbid at times due to his somewhat less than pleasant background he is never intentionally mean or startling, and can in fact be quite soft-spoken, leading people to pay close attention when he does raise his voice.
And your morals and ideals?: If one word could summarize the way Cen sees the world; it's respect. A proper respect for his peers, his betters, and those less fortunate means he treats everyone well regardless of their station so long as they do the same to him. But it also means that he doesn't hold anyone above himself. He believes that with hard work and effort anyone can surpass anyone else; be it a friend, a teacher, or death itself.
What do you consider yourself to be skilled in?:
Despite his poor vision and general clumsiness Cenric is an able and adept learner, capable of picking up new information and learning new skills at a fairly accelerated pace; a skill which aided him greatly in his late transition from metal to magic amidst the Order.
Any fears or weaknesses that you hold?:
Despite himself Cen shares the fear of most younger Corians. He fears bulls, believing despite his claims that "It's just superstition" that they are vessels of Vaen, and out to endanger or actively harm people.
Which part of your body do you value the most?: His left hand. The hand with which he weilds his sword, the one upon which the first of his Marks of the Order were scrawled, and the one which bears the tattoo of his sister's name.
Stats:
Strength: 5
Leg Stuff: 6
Dexterity: 2
Homogenized Body Stuff: 7
Family stuff and court stuff messed me up. Will post today.
1Charak2 said
hey gamer their are 4 dead ursa bodiesjust want to clear that up... Lupus is just sat beside one of em
I was using Ursa in the plural state.
1Charak2 said
@gamerFeel free to try and save Lupus
Yep, on it. Posted.
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