mickilennial

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

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“Take any table you want. Not like I have any other customers.” The girl said with a nod before another came through the door not too long after.

She traced her memory for the people of Ardenfeld that looked like the bard before her, though the town was diverse the tabaxi population–those who sought liberty and freedom from other lands–were of few number. Several families had settled. She remembered briefly of a few boys around her age, but maybe she too had blocked out much from that period of her life. Her older brother wasn’t here to help refresh her mind, though it would be helpful since he had studied at a college of bards and sought to become an adventurer. His words and oath to send her coin to pay for father’s treatments echoed in her head, but she hadn’t seen coin or letterment yet.

Alas, she was certain her memory would come to her eventually.

“Wasn’t expecting so many people. Like I said, we don’t get much for customers these days.” She uttered as she took a clean cloth to the countertop as the two began to converse.

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

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Eolnana kept her eyes on her book as the boy stammered, introducing himself as… Dot? She had heard the nickname before, but never for a boy, but she had no reason to disbelieve Donathan at his word. It was strange, but she hadn’t read everything in the world, especially not of entomology; though that would change eventually.

“I am… Elon. Elon Anteskelia. I hail from Valefor, though you probably have figured that out.” She made sure to keep her androgynous monotone present in her voice as she nodded, closing the book and placing it on her lap in one swift motion. “It appears we will be… sharing this space. Good Morning.”

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

---

Eolnana Anteskelia was not suited to the cramped, shutter-clamped sleeping quarters that she found herself in.

Her plan made sense in her head. To someone else it may have sounded absolutely and completely insane. “I’m going to pretend to be my sickly brother at a patriarchal institution of knights despite being a Valeforian merchant princess.” The ways the plan could backfire were too many to count and Eolnana’s knowledge of arithmetic and great mathematics was probably higher than most anyone else, especially her fellow recruits. They were probably all like her brother, a bunch of annoying, loud, overconfident men who thought they could muscle through anything and anyone.

Augh. The thought made her nauseous just thinking about it.

Admittedly, this was based on her perceptions of the culture of knights and well, her brother’s innate need to proclaim him the next great hero-knight every time he could gather her ears. Sure, the books she had read didn’t tell of knights acting like such things, but such scripts were always more concerned with what the knights actually did rather than worthless intangible concepts such as personality of recruits. Who would write a record about recruits? Who would care? Either way, her perception was still raw. When she had been led into her room it was essentially nightfall. The trip from Valefor had been arduous and her decision to pretend to be her brother was an impulsive, last moment device.

Fortunately, her brother already had the excuse of “I fell ill.” for Eolnana to rely on. Changing her appearance to match her brother’s visage so nobody questioned her obvious gambit wasn’t even particularly difficult. A few violent moments with a pair of scissors, foregoing cosmetics of any kind, and a few other things did the trick. She was already flat as the base of a broadsword and the same height as her brother so nothing looked particularly out of place. Like she believed it was the perfect plan. By the time her parents had figured out she was missing (and not attending to her brother) she would already be comfortably committing fraud. Exposing her would only make a mockery of House Anteskelia. They’d have to go along with it, especially with her brother’s sickness being particularly dire.

They were going to hate her for everything she had done. Putting the house’s respectability in question for her own selfish whims was a gateway to becoming a Anteskelian pariah. Ultimately, Eolnana didn’t care, or at least not enough to change her mind before she was already a recruit training to become a knight by the name of Elon.

The only concern Eolnana was trying to think about was her supposed “roommate” whom she had not spoken to due to the lateness of her arrival (and her overall disinterest in conversing with a patriarchal showboating asshole!) Introductions would be forced, contrived as they were, eventually. When she lifted the shutter and took the nearest seat she considered waiting to greet them as they woke. She didn’t sleep much due to her nerves, so she may as well see who exactly her fellow recruit was and make a proper introduction. It was the “knightly” thing to do, after all.

So she waited.

She figured she’d read one of her books she brought with her as she did.

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

---

It had been ten years.

Prelissa Tindow crossed her arms as she looked out the window of the Lying Wolverine, the tavern she had tended to ever since her father had grown ill. She thought often of Ardenfeld, the ruins of which she could still see in the distance.

She had been seven years past her naming day when the bandits came. Her father had ushered her and her brother into a safe place while he ensured the bandits nearing the tavern would not report back to their leader. The next morning when they came out of hiding the entire town was gone and things never really were the same again. Many had been orphaned and widowed, more buried. The children she knew from her visits to the village for school and such things had all gone into the wind. Her father had told her that it was in the hands of the gods now.

There was some movement outside–probably more adventurers. The Wolverine didn’t rightly get much of normal customers anymore. T’was all sparsely populated frontier this far south of Sarinan with Ardenfeld no longer influencing the state of the region. She sighed as her eyes caught the sight of the questboard on the wall nearest to the bar counters where she tended to the drinks and took orders. It was just her here. Sometimes strangers unnerved her, but today something in her gullet told her it was a good day.

Prelissa smiled, albeit wearily as she gave out an introduction to whoever was first through the door.

“Welcome to The Lying Wolverine! Is there anything you need?”

---

_{GM's Note: Characters may enter the tavern and make their own independent openings. They can roll any checks and actions suited to the introduction. I can give flavortext as needed for the tavern's interior, but generally take a seat and wait for your friends... if they are even going to show up after all of this time.}

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

_______________________________________________ // INFO - Full Name - Eolnana “Elon” Anteskelia Age - 15 Gender - Female Heritage - Valeforian Meritocracy Magical Affinity - Wind, Fire; Lightning // PERSONALITY - Antagonistic Nihilist Eolnana doesn’t particularly like optimism or anybody, really. She’s a cynical nihilist who holds disdain for society, the universe, and everything in between. This energy is not something she keeps to herself either, as she will be quick to dismiss and antagonize people who she doesn’t like. Nothing matters, including their feelings. Deadpan Snarker A dreary monotone is one of Eolnana’s most prominent features of her character. Even in disguise as Elon her words are slung like gravel and most usually at other people’s expense. One of the few joys in life away from home is throwing vicious sarcastic attacks at anybody who is annoying or those she wants to repel. Pretentious Aficionado Eolnana has studied the sword… in every book she could get her hands on. While she has had some contemporary practice in dueling, everything she knows is from dawdling in her family’s personal library. This is extended toward any subject. In fact, Eolnana believes she is the smartest person in the room even when she isn’t. // SKILLSET - Bardic Savant Girls are good at singing! And playing the harp! The words of Eolnana’s brother echo in her mind. She hates it when he’s right. Despite being a dour thing and monotone voice, when Eolnana drops the act she actually has a very pretty singing voice. She also knows how to play several instruments such as the lute and panflute with sharp precision. In another life she would be seen as a musical prodigy perhaps. Capable Duelist Elon and Eolnana were trained by Sergio Andelmelia, a famous sword dancer in Valefor. Her brother took to it with more enthusiasm, but Eolnana was always the more cautious and ardent student, always trying to analyze Sergio’s every move. Since her brother’s sickness she has studied harder and harder to make sure when she pretends to be Elon that nobody will notice there’s a difference between their skill. Daughter of the Storm Eolnana and her brother inherited the latent magical bloodlines that compose lightning. While her brother has taken to focus more on swordfighting, she has always been the opposite. Given she was already a girl who sat in the library surrounded by books and excelled in her studies, magical tomes and understanding sort of came naturally to her.

Physical Description Eolnana is short even for a girl, so posing as a boy must make her seem particularly height disadvantaged. She stands at five-foot-three, with boys of her age often being five-to-six inches above her and trying to lord over her with the size difference. It doesn’t matter much to Eolnana–the taller they are, the harder and more violently they fall. Her gray-blue eyes seem devoid of life and her brown hair is messy and uncouth. Her tan, desert-burned skin is probably her most distinct feature away from home. Her mother has told her that men see her as exotic and should be wary around them. Her physique is more athletic than it may appear for a young woman who may as well cite her residence as a library. She’s been doing drills alongside her brother for years and enjoys the art of the sword and spear as much as her twin does. She just likes books more. Character Conceptualization Fifteen years ago, Shende Anteskelia bore twins for her husband, the leader of a prominent mercantile dynasty in northern Valefor. They would name them Elon and Eolnana. The Anteskelia Dynasty was old and “pure” by all accords. They were one of the closest things to nobility you could get in the region and several stories speculated their heritage dated back to the King of Thieves himself. Such a claim has been in contention since pretty much the first time it was uttered by an Anteskelia. It is something Eolnana has heard her entire life, though try as she can she has never seen the proof in the pudding despite inhabiting the great library every time she has found chance to. The two siblings would grow close together, one heir to the patronage of the many guilds under Anteskelian control and the other a girl who was best suited in trying to sire an influential romance. Envy grew in Eolnana’s heart. She wanted to have the same agency as her brother, to live free and do what she wanted. She wanted to study magic with the best and brightest. She wanted to be seen as independent and recognized as the genius she saw herself as. Her brother barely could read, let alone lead the family! The more time she spent beside him training in the sword the more she resented the idea that she couldn’t be free. One day she began thinking on how to break her chains, how to escape her guardians or convince her parents. When Elon fell ill the resentment moved inward, questioning how she could hope for such a thing. He had regalled her with all of his ambitions, his plans, his wants, and desires; how he was going to become a knight and how the ink was already dry. Despite her regret in how she felt about everything, she found herself thinking. Plotting. Was this the way out? It was a serious sickness and his recovery could’ve been long. Craving an out she did the one thing she could. She sought out in a game of fantasy and decided that she would pose as her brother in his ambitions and take them for herself. If he recovered everyone wouldn’t care, the damage would already be done, and ultimately she would’ve proven what exactly she thought of her place in the world. The Genius of Valefor would spread her wings and everyone would recognize her as one of the greatest knights to exist in the current age!

Steal Away The Light

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

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“Maker, protect us from the storm…”

“...the storm that brings the void to our hearth…”

“...give us certainty in the endless darkness…”

“...and make sure–”

The pyromancer’s prayer was cut short as screams echoed in the hearthfire’s ember, as a horrid void crawled upon the peak of the tower; an inhuman, distorted screech coming from its gaping maw. Had the lone hunter with the cannon stayed, perhaps they would not have screamed, perhaps the voidling would have been blasted into oblivion. Perhaps so, but alas such was not the case; the pyromancers were alone and many were shaken from their task. Pyromancer Galeil, the leader of the lot, was the only one among the pyromancers who did not panic and as such was barking orders to his lessers almost immediately. They didn’t listen. Pyromancer Riessima had never seen a void before. Pyromancer Daviel was a coward. Pyromancer Zulman was ready to die. The fire itself shook as the six apprentice pyromancers struggled to hold the flame, and in the end, their only chance to survive this horrid day.

“Hold! Hold, you void-forsaken cowards!” He growled, as he held out his hands, using his master of pyromancies to create a sphere of fire the size of an ogre's skull as fast as he could. The void creature snarled in response, but not before the sphere was thrown into its face and engulfed it in the thing it hated the most: the warmth and light of the flame. There would be nothing that remained of the voidling in seconds as the elder pyromancer melted every inch of its body.

Galeil sighed as he began channeling his magic once more into the elemental shard. He didn’t blame any of the apprentices to not handle the stress and fear that came with their current situation. It was bad. He had been in two similar situations in his life and he wasn’t particularly thrilled that the day had come where it could be his third and potentially his final call to the flame. Only a small handful of hunters had come and he feared they had already lost a few of that small handful, some were as green as his own apprentices.

“Roc hatchlings. Corrupted by the void.” He looked up at the sky through the archway as his body shook in anxious dread. “You shouldn’t waste your fear on them.”

“Ser?”

He turned, “You should fear their mother.”

In seconds, almost like it was answering Galeil, a louder, bigger, and even more horrifying screech boomed across the skies. He imagined the situation below, on the ground, wasn’t much better.

“We got–oh maker no–we got a–aarrrrrrghhh!”

The sound of bones being crushed into a pudding was never a particularly pleasant sound. Coupled with the tearing and the screaming, the line of guards that formed didn’t quite know how to handle the creature before them as it released their friend, their comrade, whom they had known for five years, with a soft ‘plop’ on the stone road before them. He was unrecognizable.

Ogres could do this normally. They stood well over twelve feet with muscle that was hard to sever from the bone. The void had taken this ogre and the mass of goblins behind him, coating their skin like black tar and turning their eyes into an endless abyss. The flat fingertips had formed terrible claws that ended its reach. As it and its minions approached it laughed in a dark, almost indiscernible way. In mere moments all of the void goblins screeched as they charged the assortment of guards with demonic speed.

They had no chance.

In Search of Gaea A Seafaring Fantasy Adventure (REBUILD)

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Marina Watercrest smiled widely at the crewmate who had challenged her to three sets of Maker’s Grace. The cards on the table plain for them to see as the sound of the ocean hammered against the hull.

“This is what you get, you know.” The young woman smiled, “For dueling one of the greats.”

The older man groaned before nearing a laugh. He hadn’t interacted with the diver much, but the girl’s gall and confidence nearly set him off. That was before the cards spun off the table as a particularly strong wave had tucked itself against the ship. Were they nearing their destination? That accursed storm? Must’ve been. Marina could hear the yelling, faint as it were through the ship’s floorboards. She supposed it was now where the real fun began. The real adventure. It would be like her travels before when she left the Imperial Sea but as a girl seeking to find her way. She had failed, triumphed, and then failed again. She was hoping in this venture it would be a return to greatness.

She smiled as she scooped up the shelma from the table, standing from her seat that she had barely kept upright when the ship braced against the waves. It was always fun for Marina to taunt and gloat, much like she had done at the academy.

She brushed off her cloak, “Alas, I would love to continue robbing you blind, but I must dive.”

The crewman began to mumble unpleasantries as Marina pranced out of the room and toward her belongings and the area where she and the other divers would convene.

The thrill of the dive was something else and while Marina had not interacted with any of the other divers, with her rebreather on she could still feel a sense of camaraderie, a sense of belonging. One of the other divers in particular did remind her of someone, though she couldn’t quite place it with their own rebreather on and the fact they had not run into each other during the voyage into the storm. It would be a familiarity that she would press on at another time, but for now, she was getting ready. The diving chamber was not as nice or as shoddy as other ones as she had been in, a delightful middle ground. She stretched her legs as conversation began and continued, mostly idle comments, things that weren’t terribly interesting or fun. She jumped up and down, getting the blood flowing and muscles ready while smiling inanely underneath her diving gear.

One of the women talked of Luna and Luck and Marina looked slightly in her direction.

“Luck isn’t in the equation, my love.” Marina looked toward the diving platform that was sealed shut with a dark temptation growing in her chest. Her eyes widened and there was a glimmer in them that could be seen by anyone who looked at the purple-haired diver. “If you listen carefully, you can hear the terror of the tides. Isn't it wonderful?”

Steal Away The Light

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Trantascilia smiled, calmly as her eyes analyzed the entire battlefield from the rooftops as the body of a void before her feet withered into ash.

It was a tale as old as time, full of omens and horrors; of people teetering on the edge as they gave everything they had to prevent the doom that awaited or to embrace the chaos as long as it lasted. Glorious! Magnificent! A splendor of women who had everything taken from them and given everything to take from the void. Rain was no omen, not to the cyromancer. No, no, no rain was a song, a masterpiece of timbre and tenor, of melody and harmony. To be scared of the pinnacle was foolhardy, even if oblivion awaited them should they perform with the utmost error. The Hunters of the Void were merely dancers waiting to dance, and rain often gave them one of the most suiting songs.

The howl of the void drew closer as a dancer danced their final dance and the blue-haired noble peered in the direction of the void. There were more of them coming in droves while their larger, more frightening members shambled toward the walls. The rain drew heavier. How long had it been raining? It felt like days, months! Not merely hours. Perhaps it could rain forever, so Trantascilia could dance until oblivion. What a sight to behold would that be? She imagined it with glee as her feet clicked against the tiled rooftops as each raindrop fell to earth. The rain underneath her feet turned to ice and she began to skate from rooftop to rooftop, as voidlings that could fly attempted to gnaw at her flesh. They were, as Tranta would call it, too slow and too weak to even contend with such ambitions.

She laughed, her head ducking underneath claws of black mass. She spun her spear outward and it caught flames of cerulean and azure. The voidflesh melting into ash as the trail of ice scoured the rooftops.

“Is that all?” She taunted, “Try harder. Dance with me.”

As if emboldened by her words, the voidlings seemed to multiply and as more came upon the Prentisian Noble it only seemed to make Tranta move faster and react with more haste. The Song of Storms was in her element and while the pyromancers carried on with fear in their lungs, Tranta, a hunter, a living weapon, could only fight with glee. The pyromancers had asked her to dance in the Song of Storms and she was happy to partake. The void would be defeated and it would be sorrowful for the hunters that lost their lives during their own dance, but to her and most hunters it was a reality of their vocation. She didn’t try to think about when her dance would end, but merely how fun the dance would be.

After all, it would be her dance that was one of many in a great symphony to save the world.

As she landed on a tiled rooftop once more she looked upward and with her free hand moved a strand of hair from her face as a slight “hmph” exited her lips. That’s when she saw it. An aerial voidling four times the size of the others. Perhaps this would be a better dance partner?

Her lips curled into a manic smile. Doubtful.

Steal Away The Light

You guys write like you wear capes IRL.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Mystic Prophecy Chapterhouse, The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

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“The guilds we associated with prior to the glitch…”

Luci looked to Kazuki, considering the question. Since Priscilica took over in Aag’s… absence… she had done everything in her power to coordinate with the limited relationships they had. She wasn’t going to reach out to Obsidian Vanguard, though she was sure her old friends were having a parade over the state of things. Other larger guilds in the kingdom had been working with Pris or Pris was in the process of convincing them. So many guilds had fractured or broken down after the glitch, and lacking Aaginim's charisma and their traditional numbers Luci wasn't sure if Mystic had any sway in getting some of the more obtuse guild leaders to play ball. It was a reality Luci had told Pris about but the pink-haired wizard refused to listen to her logic because she was emotionally compromised.

“Helen’s Battalion has devoted most of their time to protecting people on the roads and containing wayfarer unrest. Avalon Academy is trying to coordinate a dungeon defense initiative, they were here yesterday. Obsidian…” She paused, her feelings on Obsidian Vanguard creeping into her mind and those who knew the history between Vanguard and Mystic Prophecy would not be surprised at such pause. “...Obsidian Vanguard, last I heard, had moved eastward. I have no idea what they are doing.”

She leaned back against one of the walls. “There are others, but it's a lot of work. Pris went out to visit another guild a few minutes ago. The Children of Letria. Leader's not been a fan of us in the past. I don't know. Maybe you could have some better luck.”