Awesome. Hopefully the information will be somewhat complete by end of day and a OOC and sheet will follow.
mickilennial
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The Elder Fae
STATUS: If you like Full Metal Panic give Fafner in the Azure a shot as well! 1 mo ago
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If you like Full Metal Panic give Fafner in the Azure a shot as well!
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If you aren't angry, you aren't conscious.
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I think I have my writing confidence back. Feels like centuries since I could string together sentences.
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🐶 Harvey (2009-2024)
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Vindication comes, so too does peace of mind as I close one chapter and open a new one.
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Bio
if you're petty with me
be prepared to deal with
the most crazy bitch
you've ever met
be prepared to deal with
the most crazy bitch
you've ever met
Micki | 35 (b. 1988) | Detroit | INTJ
Biromantic Demisexual | Bipolar/Manic-Depressive
Hi. I'm a role-player/writer who has spent over twenty-one years in this hobby.
I will pretty much write anything as long as my partner is cool with my inconsistent posting pace and momentum. I'm pretty sociable and I make dumb jokes all the time. My favorite things to write is capeshit, anime, space operas, horror, and slice of life/mundane drama. My writing level leans toward minimalism, but I try to give my partners/groups more than enough to work off of. I like to think I am pretty flexible.
I like cinema, music, and animation just as much as I like writing with people. My biggest hobby after writing is pop media analysis. Ask me questions or for suggestions and I'm sure to have something for you. 😎😎😎
Most Recent Posts
Interested, and would a half-elf be an option? Would still be interested if not.
Currently discussing the dynamics with elves and half-elves* with Fey. Might seem a bit "first come first serve" but I want the majority of the cast to be human with MAYBE one elf. Glad for your interest, though, and hopefully we can manage something.
Added fundamental nations, will add supplementary ones later as needed, but I think explaining magic will be my next step.
Some Things to Note:
- First time I've written something *new* in over a year.
- Trying to get the rust out of my system by force.
- If enough friends/people are interested, I still have to expand on prospective lore/codex/magic stuff.
- Ask me questions.
a l i g h t f a n t a s y r o l e p l a y
“I believe, so therefor it is so.”
It has been two thousand years since the death of The Hero of the Glades.
In the wake of her death to free the world from the oppressive chains of the dark wizard, Gand, a world of liberty and sanctuary has flourished from the Viridian Sea to the Sands of Hahral. As a result, there is not one person in the world that does not know her legend.
Some say the Hero of the Glades was sent from the goddess herself to save the world from the wicked and vile. Others say she was a simple peasant girl who proved herself to the gods by enduring harrowing trials. The conclusion is the same, whichever interpretation one comes to believe; the Hero of the Glades stood against the forces of evil and won. One only has to look at the Kingdom that spawned in her name. The Kingdom of Itenaire.
Whilst Itena gave her life in the final battle, her allies–the sorcerer Sol, the warlord Haur, the hunter Antes, the swordmaster Aather, and the elf Glyndŵr–all were fortunate to meet the same end.
Gand had been stopped and purged from existence, but with him so too did Itena suffer a fatal blow. Her passing would become symbolic and the journey she had shared with them left them wondering what world to build in her absence. It is here that the bones of modern society began to form. Sol returned to the enclave of sorcery, which had been decimated since Gand had battled them to near extinction. Antes returned to his tribe in Hahral, fearful of the darkness that lingers in the world. Glyndŵr freed the elven slaves that Gand had taken and looked to rebuild the clanfolk. Haur reunited with the Confederation of Warlords that had aspired to depose Gand, history would recall him as the first King of Itenaire. As for Aather? Seeking no power of his own, he returned to Itena's birthplace and from there would create an order of protectors that would become the first collection of knights.
In the time since then the idea of kingdoms have been formalized, a caste system of lords and underlords have become the standard, the enclave of sorcery has been slowly rebuilt from the bones of what was, and Itenaire has been led by House Haurington, who still maintains its connection to its founding hero. And, of course, the elite guardians of the glade and ever present protectors of order and justice, Order of the Glade, keep a watchful eye over the realm should another mad mage or other unseen threat arise once more.
And so here you are, peasant, noble, or somewhere in between, traveling to the birthplace of the Hero of the Glades, to participate in a trial that could help define you. Do you have what it takes to follow in Itena's honor? To become a warden?
Let's find out.
In the wake of her death to free the world from the oppressive chains of the dark wizard, Gand, a world of liberty and sanctuary has flourished from the Viridian Sea to the Sands of Hahral. As a result, there is not one person in the world that does not know her legend.
Some say the Hero of the Glades was sent from the goddess herself to save the world from the wicked and vile. Others say she was a simple peasant girl who proved herself to the gods by enduring harrowing trials. The conclusion is the same, whichever interpretation one comes to believe; the Hero of the Glades stood against the forces of evil and won. One only has to look at the Kingdom that spawned in her name. The Kingdom of Itenaire.
Whilst Itena gave her life in the final battle, her allies–the sorcerer Sol, the warlord Haur, the hunter Antes, the swordmaster Aather, and the elf Glyndŵr–all were fortunate to meet the same end.
Gand had been stopped and purged from existence, but with him so too did Itena suffer a fatal blow. Her passing would become symbolic and the journey she had shared with them left them wondering what world to build in her absence. It is here that the bones of modern society began to form. Sol returned to the enclave of sorcery, which had been decimated since Gand had battled them to near extinction. Antes returned to his tribe in Hahral, fearful of the darkness that lingers in the world. Glyndŵr freed the elven slaves that Gand had taken and looked to rebuild the clanfolk. Haur reunited with the Confederation of Warlords that had aspired to depose Gand, history would recall him as the first King of Itenaire. As for Aather? Seeking no power of his own, he returned to Itena's birthplace and from there would create an order of protectors that would become the first collection of knights.
In the time since then the idea of kingdoms have been formalized, a caste system of lords and underlords have become the standard, the enclave of sorcery has been slowly rebuilt from the bones of what was, and Itenaire has been led by House Haurington, who still maintains its connection to its founding hero. And, of course, the elite guardians of the glade and ever present protectors of order and justice, Order of the Glade, keep a watchful eye over the realm should another mad mage or other unseen threat arise once more.
And so here you are, peasant, noble, or somewhere in between, traveling to the birthplace of the Hero of the Glades, to participate in a trial that could help define you. Do you have what it takes to follow in Itena's honor? To become a warden?
Let's find out.
L A C O R R O N: a w o r l d a t o d d s
Lacorron, or Isradd-Bodolaeth in the contemporary elven tongue, is the world your characters are from. It is an ancient world with two sentient races, humans and elves.
Around two thousand years ago ended the Age of Chaos, a time of upheaval defined by warlords, cruel sorcerers, and everything in between. In two thousand years it has evolved from a wild, war-torn iron age to a contemporary age of ideals, prosperity, and order. If not for the defeat of Gand, who knows where Lacorron would be today. Progress aside, this does not mean it is an age without conflict.
Below are summaries of the great nations of this tenuous “Age of Peace”. Familiarize yourself with them.
The Kingdom of Itenaire: The former lands of various warlords dating back to the Age of Chaos, most notably Haur of the Black Hills. It has since become arguably the strongest Kingdom in all of Lacorron, and has since named itself after the Hero of the Glades. Each of its noble houses (and undernoble ones) descend from a Lacorron warlord who survived the rule of the dark sorcerer, Gand. They have become a people who transformed themselves from a “might makes right” society to… well, a might makes right society disguised as a sophisticated noble hierarchy. The caste system can be simplified as a pyramid with peasants at the bottom, merchants in the center, undernobles near the top, and nobles above them with the royal family at the peak. The traditions of Itenaire are that in service to the art of war and of service to those that sit above you.
The Kingdom of Giellnal: Across the Great Chasm is a kingdom that has been at odds with Itenaire for the past six hundred years. Giellnalians claim lineage to not only Sol and the Enclave of Sorcerer, but also Gand, who was one of the enclave’s most prolific members prior to his descent into madness. Giellnal claims itself as the “oldest city in the known realm” and it is a claim that is difficult to contest. The people of Itenair see their neighbors as innately wicked and the perspective of those of Hahral descent are divided–for many the world tear is enough proof to remember history. The sad truth is Giellnalians don’t trust anyone, especially not themselves. It is an air of paranoid anxiety its people will never break free of, it seems. In terms of its society, it is not that different from its neighbors to the west with a monarch (or in this case Overlord and Overlady) who operate over a motley assortment of lords, lesser lords, merchants, and commoners.
Hahral Triumvirate: The Sands of Hahral is the largest desert on Lacorron. Over time the roaming bands of hunters and craftsmen elevated their people to create three of the most treasured cities in the world (Atuunis, Akoth, and Dranabris) colloquially known as the Free Cities. The people here are shrewd and arrogant, and their archers are said to be equal to any elf, though the elves in the Viridian Sea would rightly take offense at such a belief. Each city is independent of one another and have often feuded, but have aligned with each other in times of outsiders committing hostile acts against them. They have fought as well as allied with the Kingdom of Itenaire on several occasions since both nations spawned following the dawn of the new age.
The Grand City of Atutania: Two thousand years ago, Atutania was a collection of villages in a space between a dense thicket of woodlands. Nobody would ever imagine it would become a powerful independent city ruled by an order of knights. The birthplace of the Hero of the Glades and now host to the wardens that protect the realm from threats seen and unseen, Atutania is in a particularly unique situation. It is a mediator of disputes between nations, independent of their rule, but it is also self-sustainable. Outside of the grand temples devoted to the gods of elves and man alike, it is probably the most venerated place in the known world. It is ruled in unison between the merchant’s guild’s representative, an elven envoy, and the lord-commander of the Order of the Glade.
The Clanfolk of the Viridian Sea: Sometimes called the Viridian Kingdom or Unedig-Dynion (united peoples) in the elven tongue. The elven people have always called the massive expanse of woodlands west of Itenair their home, to which humans have called “the Viridian Sea” for centuries. In contrast to human society, the elven people do not stick to rigid structures of society, preferring small, mobile communities that are led by familial clans. It is here that they commune with the gods, ward off dangerous creatures, and live their lives in relative peace. They are wary of humans, but not hostile, and for the most part the human nations of the world have left them alone as thanks for defeating Gand. If there is any sort of conventional leadership of the clanfolk, however, it would be their spiritual leaders–the Ysgaw Derwydd (elder druids)–who convene at the Viridian Sea’s world tree.
Around two thousand years ago ended the Age of Chaos, a time of upheaval defined by warlords, cruel sorcerers, and everything in between. In two thousand years it has evolved from a wild, war-torn iron age to a contemporary age of ideals, prosperity, and order. If not for the defeat of Gand, who knows where Lacorron would be today. Progress aside, this does not mean it is an age without conflict.
Below are summaries of the great nations of this tenuous “Age of Peace”. Familiarize yourself with them.
The Kingdom of Itenaire: The former lands of various warlords dating back to the Age of Chaos, most notably Haur of the Black Hills. It has since become arguably the strongest Kingdom in all of Lacorron, and has since named itself after the Hero of the Glades. Each of its noble houses (and undernoble ones) descend from a Lacorron warlord who survived the rule of the dark sorcerer, Gand. They have become a people who transformed themselves from a “might makes right” society to… well, a might makes right society disguised as a sophisticated noble hierarchy. The caste system can be simplified as a pyramid with peasants at the bottom, merchants in the center, undernobles near the top, and nobles above them with the royal family at the peak. The traditions of Itenaire are that in service to the art of war and of service to those that sit above you.
The Kingdom of Giellnal: Across the Great Chasm is a kingdom that has been at odds with Itenaire for the past six hundred years. Giellnalians claim lineage to not only Sol and the Enclave of Sorcerer, but also Gand, who was one of the enclave’s most prolific members prior to his descent into madness. Giellnal claims itself as the “oldest city in the known realm” and it is a claim that is difficult to contest. The people of Itenair see their neighbors as innately wicked and the perspective of those of Hahral descent are divided–for many the world tear is enough proof to remember history. The sad truth is Giellnalians don’t trust anyone, especially not themselves. It is an air of paranoid anxiety its people will never break free of, it seems. In terms of its society, it is not that different from its neighbors to the west with a monarch (or in this case Overlord and Overlady) who operate over a motley assortment of lords, lesser lords, merchants, and commoners.
Hahral Triumvirate: The Sands of Hahral is the largest desert on Lacorron. Over time the roaming bands of hunters and craftsmen elevated their people to create three of the most treasured cities in the world (Atuunis, Akoth, and Dranabris) colloquially known as the Free Cities. The people here are shrewd and arrogant, and their archers are said to be equal to any elf, though the elves in the Viridian Sea would rightly take offense at such a belief. Each city is independent of one another and have often feuded, but have aligned with each other in times of outsiders committing hostile acts against them. They have fought as well as allied with the Kingdom of Itenaire on several occasions since both nations spawned following the dawn of the new age.
The Grand City of Atutania: Two thousand years ago, Atutania was a collection of villages in a space between a dense thicket of woodlands. Nobody would ever imagine it would become a powerful independent city ruled by an order of knights. The birthplace of the Hero of the Glades and now host to the wardens that protect the realm from threats seen and unseen, Atutania is in a particularly unique situation. It is a mediator of disputes between nations, independent of their rule, but it is also self-sustainable. Outside of the grand temples devoted to the gods of elves and man alike, it is probably the most venerated place in the known world. It is ruled in unison between the merchant’s guild’s representative, an elven envoy, and the lord-commander of the Order of the Glade.
The Clanfolk of the Viridian Sea: Sometimes called the Viridian Kingdom or Unedig-Dynion (united peoples) in the elven tongue. The elven people have always called the massive expanse of woodlands west of Itenair their home, to which humans have called “the Viridian Sea” for centuries. In contrast to human society, the elven people do not stick to rigid structures of society, preferring small, mobile communities that are led by familial clans. It is here that they commune with the gods, ward off dangerous creatures, and live their lives in relative peace. They are wary of humans, but not hostile, and for the most part the human nations of the world have left them alone as thanks for defeating Gand. If there is any sort of conventional leadership of the clanfolk, however, it would be their spiritual leaders–the Ysgaw Derwydd (elder druids)–who convene at the Viridian Sea’s world tree.
F A I T H: g o d s o f l a c o r r o n
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M A N A A R T S: m y s t i c i s m a n d m a g i c
Magic is a combination of the spiritual, primordial, and innate energies of the world.
Every living thing breathes mana and mana is the lifeforce of magic. It is the transmutation of mana that defines a “magical effect”. Any human or elf can use magic, though the exact process to awaken one’s magical potential is unknown. Not even the elder druids or the most learned sorcerers know how to awaken someone through ritual, but when one is awakened their abilities are as coveted as they are admired.
The difference between magical abilities of humankind and elfkind are distinct, however. Elves cannot manifest the elements through their magic, but rather control it with inherent precision. Humans conversely create their magic from their latent mana, manifesting it with ease though struggle with control. An elf cannot make water in the desert, but a human can; a human cannot control the vines in a forest, but an elf can.
Of course magical science has evolved over several centuries, since well before the time of the dark wizard.
Innately human souls are rigid, innately tied to a specific primordial element (water, fire, air, earth). The souls of an elf on the other side of the spectrum are tied to nothing and everything – another distinct difference between elfkind and humankind. The gods certainly have made magic available to both races, even if the distinctions are very clear. Despite this restriction humans have found a way to get around it to their benefit, after all they are clever and petty beings. The advent of magical crystals and discovery of primordial runes has been proof positive of this. A sorcerer or warden could be of a soul of flame, but with runes on their staff or blade they could use their mana to initiate magic effects beyond their reach, albeit lacking the same precise control they would have with fire magic.
Of course using too much magic can lead to extreme fatigue, the body can only produce so much mana and transmutation of mana to magic is already taxing enough. One should be careful.
Every living thing breathes mana and mana is the lifeforce of magic. It is the transmutation of mana that defines a “magical effect”. Any human or elf can use magic, though the exact process to awaken one’s magical potential is unknown. Not even the elder druids or the most learned sorcerers know how to awaken someone through ritual, but when one is awakened their abilities are as coveted as they are admired.
The difference between magical abilities of humankind and elfkind are distinct, however. Elves cannot manifest the elements through their magic, but rather control it with inherent precision. Humans conversely create their magic from their latent mana, manifesting it with ease though struggle with control. An elf cannot make water in the desert, but a human can; a human cannot control the vines in a forest, but an elf can.
Of course magical science has evolved over several centuries, since well before the time of the dark wizard.
Innately human souls are rigid, innately tied to a specific primordial element (water, fire, air, earth). The souls of an elf on the other side of the spectrum are tied to nothing and everything – another distinct difference between elfkind and humankind. The gods certainly have made magic available to both races, even if the distinctions are very clear. Despite this restriction humans have found a way to get around it to their benefit, after all they are clever and petty beings. The advent of magical crystals and discovery of primordial runes has been proof positive of this. A sorcerer or warden could be of a soul of flame, but with runes on their staff or blade they could use their mana to initiate magic effects beyond their reach, albeit lacking the same precise control they would have with fire magic.
Of course using too much magic can lead to extreme fatigue, the body can only produce so much mana and transmutation of mana to magic is already taxing enough. One should be careful.
Dragon Age: Veilguard. Posts and other things soon.
Location: Agnew Residence; Living Room
Timeframe Early Morning
Interaction(s): None
Previously: N/A
“How’s your leg treating you, Ted?”
“Healing fine. I’ll be walking again soon.” The older man motioned to his leg, as he pressed he bent his knee. “Just wish I didn’t total the truck.”
Davey Graves stood in the living room of Theodore Agnew, who before the apocalypse, pretty much had given the stability he needed since he left high school. As an old school handyman Ted had basically worked in the greater Concord-Manchester Area for over fifty years. Through him Davey had learned various home repair skills that were probably going to be useful in the world to come.
The younger man was a little worried about his mentor, though reality had been pretty kind all things considered. The car accident that broke the sixty-seven-year-old’s leg had been a little over a month ago, so nothing relating to the freak sickness that turned people rabid to be concerned about. Still, the old man was living alone with his granddaughter, Jenny, who herself had just turned fourteen. Even with all of Ted’s guns mounted on the wall, Davey couldn’t shake being worried about them and the people that lived away from Mulberry Street.
“Could be worse.”
The old man snorted, “Could be better.”
“We’ll come check on you in a few days. Don’t be afraid to reach out. We need you alive.”
The two men looked over to the left, where Davey’s mother, Lorrie, had finished putting away the supplies with help from Jenny. With box in hand, Davey knew it was time to get back home.
“Right.” Davey commented as the two Graves' family members made their way through the house's front door. “We heading straight back?”
His mom shook her head as she tossed the box in the back of the 2013 Toyota Tacoma. “I want to stop by the gas station, get anything else we need.”
“Think it's been hit since last time?”
“Might be. We only chained up the doors. Anyone with a pair of bolt cutters could get in. And that’s not even talking about the tanks.” She remarked as the two entered the Tacoma. “I hope not. We need the gas reserves to last as long as possible. But we aren’t the only survivors out there.”
Lorrie turned the key and with that they hit the road.
“Healing fine. I’ll be walking again soon.” The older man motioned to his leg, as he pressed he bent his knee. “Just wish I didn’t total the truck.”
Davey Graves stood in the living room of Theodore Agnew, who before the apocalypse, pretty much had given the stability he needed since he left high school. As an old school handyman Ted had basically worked in the greater Concord-Manchester Area for over fifty years. Through him Davey had learned various home repair skills that were probably going to be useful in the world to come.
The younger man was a little worried about his mentor, though reality had been pretty kind all things considered. The car accident that broke the sixty-seven-year-old’s leg had been a little over a month ago, so nothing relating to the freak sickness that turned people rabid to be concerned about. Still, the old man was living alone with his granddaughter, Jenny, who herself had just turned fourteen. Even with all of Ted’s guns mounted on the wall, Davey couldn’t shake being worried about them and the people that lived away from Mulberry Street.
“Could be worse.”
The old man snorted, “Could be better.”
“We’ll come check on you in a few days. Don’t be afraid to reach out. We need you alive.”
The two men looked over to the left, where Davey’s mother, Lorrie, had finished putting away the supplies with help from Jenny. With box in hand, Davey knew it was time to get back home.
“Right.” Davey commented as the two Graves' family members made their way through the house's front door. “We heading straight back?”
His mom shook her head as she tossed the box in the back of the 2013 Toyota Tacoma. “I want to stop by the gas station, get anything else we need.”
“Think it's been hit since last time?”
“Might be. We only chained up the doors. Anyone with a pair of bolt cutters could get in. And that’s not even talking about the tanks.” She remarked as the two entered the Tacoma. “I hope not. We need the gas reserves to last as long as possible. But we aren’t the only survivors out there.”
Lorrie turned the key and with that they hit the road.
@Gunther Only a slight age gap, and given its quite a smaller town there's probably less distinctions between Seniors and Sophomores in terms of friends groups. I guess it would depend on how tolerable Jennifer is toward Hailee's... temperament. Personally, I'm not sure Hailee would particularly care for hanging around Jennifer, though.
Location: Graves Residence; Front Yard
Timeframe Early Morning
Interaction(s): None
Previously: N/A
This wasn’t exactly what Hailee Graves expected.
In normal circumstances, she’d be in class, finishing up her senior year until June finally eclipsed Huddeen. Instead of being bored in her first class of the morning, however, she was stuck at home thinking. Her mother had gone out with her brother, to run some supplies to some families further away from the town center then they were. Because that’s what they were now. Survivors.
“Don’t go into town alone.” She muttered, throwing a baseball in the air as she sat on a bench outside, “Don’t get grabbed. No shit, Mom.”
She rolled her eyes as her hand swiped the ball out of the air.
She could be left alone at home, but she couldn’t go anywhere–especially not into town–by herself. A restriction her good old, totally always present, always reliable mother couldn’t really enforce but one Lee didn’t exactly have the moxie to challenge either. The warnings sounded eerily like the ones when she and a bunch of other kids went to the city for a concert. A small indie rock show. Though, this time the creepers were creepers. In stories like this, not that she read those kinds of stories, the mechanics and mythology of the monsters didn’t always make sense and sometimes they weren’t explained in the first place. At the end of the day, if she had to deal with a creep, she had a good softball bat at her feet if need be.
Creeps. Yeah, that was a name that could work. Felt less absurd than “zombie” or whatever. That’s what she’d call them.
“See one. Aim for the head.” She thought out loud as she threw the baseball up in the air again. “If they even come around.”
At least she wouldn’t have to deal with her mom teaching 12th Grade English & Literature again. Having your mom as one of your teachers sucked. Though, having her as a survivor might’ve been worse. Whatever. Not like she could do anything about it.
In normal circumstances, she’d be in class, finishing up her senior year until June finally eclipsed Huddeen. Instead of being bored in her first class of the morning, however, she was stuck at home thinking. Her mother had gone out with her brother, to run some supplies to some families further away from the town center then they were. Because that’s what they were now. Survivors.
“Don’t go into town alone.” She muttered, throwing a baseball in the air as she sat on a bench outside, “Don’t get grabbed. No shit, Mom.”
She rolled her eyes as her hand swiped the ball out of the air.
She could be left alone at home, but she couldn’t go anywhere–especially not into town–by herself. A restriction her good old, totally always present, always reliable mother couldn’t really enforce but one Lee didn’t exactly have the moxie to challenge either. The warnings sounded eerily like the ones when she and a bunch of other kids went to the city for a concert. A small indie rock show. Though, this time the creepers were creepers. In stories like this, not that she read those kinds of stories, the mechanics and mythology of the monsters didn’t always make sense and sometimes they weren’t explained in the first place. At the end of the day, if she had to deal with a creep, she had a good softball bat at her feet if need be.
Creeps. Yeah, that was a name that could work. Felt less absurd than “zombie” or whatever. That’s what she’d call them.
“See one. Aim for the head.” She thought out loud as she threw the baseball up in the air again. “If they even come around.”
At least she wouldn’t have to deal with her mom teaching 12th Grade English & Literature again. Having your mom as one of your teachers sucked. Though, having her as a survivor might’ve been worse. Whatever. Not like she could do anything about it.
holly and lee be like:
Not anymore, at least. 😏
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