Neianna86

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

During the days of rest and respite Dag’Tyr could often be found scouring through the many scrolls and tomes of the library.
His inky blue fingers tracing the lines of text as if to remember them better. His form could be found somewhere in the back surrounded by piles of books, those that were read and to be brought back later to their respective places, when Dag’Tyr needed a break.
All that he found however was scratchings and mentions of half eaten pages gesturing often to more general knowledge.
He released a heavy sigh as the threads were growing thin. With the others researching as well this did speed up the process, but so far not much had been uncovered, save for a good deal of dust, cobwebs and the occasional spider.
He was about to put an end to his morning reading and take a break when he noticed a that a tome lower in his to read pile had a differently coloured page in there. Like it was shoved in there with little care or thought.
As he took a look at the Tome’s binding and script he noticed it was mostly weathered leather and the writings had been fading for some time now.
As he opened the book the page practically flew out of it, almost as if it had been trying to escape.
“Well, ye have my attention now…let’s see what ye’re all about.” Dag’Tyr muttered to himself as he turned the page around only to be confronted by the writings of his people.
Familiar words in a familiar tongue remembering him of days long past.
He shot a glance up towards the heavens.
“Veratul…” He sighed. “Ye’re still looking out for me aren’t ye?” He uttered softly as a gave an appreciative nod. Before he stood up page in hand and moved towards the others.
“Kindred…” He called out, hoping to catch their attention.
Realizing that they might not think he was referring to them he amended.
“Uh, all of you…ye better take a gander at this.” He said as he handed the script over to the Wooden One first.
“Now…whilst we could go over this entire library…and in my eyes we might as well have by now, I doubt we’ll get any more answers or solve anymore of our problems if we stay tucked away like this.” He bit his lip as he pondered.
“So my proposal is this…if we can’t get anymore answers from here I say we go out to find them. Which brings us to the main problem at hand. The realms are if ye allow me to be candid; one big bloody mess. Our peoples are suffering. I say we start to reduce that suffering, cause we cannot wait and give the shadows more time to encroach more and more of our lands. As of tomorrow, I will take up my wandering mantle again. Anyone willing to do the same can join me. By Veratul’s blessing I shall seek to end this and heal the land.”

Tales From the Dreamscape (Zyx & Neianna86)

Adeira Ysmengard

Ashen Skies

Gerhardt shook his head at the flippant response, but figured the boy would learn in time. For now he had other priorities to focus upon. He still had some contacts here, so with some luck they wouldn’t have to start completely from scratch, but neither would it be easy.
The High Priest wasn’t a particularly persuasive man and quite frankly as cold as the masks he was wearing.
His thoughts drifted off as their ship sailed into the harbour and docked, shaking him away from his past for the time being.
He wondered whether it still was there.
Whether anything had changed at all or and whether his actions so long ago had at least offered the suffering some reprieve.
He released a heavy sigh, not even remembering taking and holding his breath in the first place before he nodded to the prince and moved to disembark.
Clad in wool and leathers he stretched his back for a moment as he enjoyed the feeling of standing on steady dry land again.
Still he merely took a couple of glances around before setting off to the stairs.
“Stay close and don’t wander off…” He said as he smoothly moved up the step, leaving the clammy darkness of the Harbour and stepping into the light.
Before them lay a gigantic open street filled with vendors.
“Welcome Duncan to the Grand Market.” He said with a soft chuckle knowing that even Belisio’s market would pale in comparison to the large unending street as there was no end to it; it being circular.
All sorts of people shouting and moving about with their wares. Litters, Palanquins and small Phaetons were easily capable of moving about. The people again were a mix of rich and poor, though the rich didn’t really interact with those lesser than them, they had people to do that for them.
Mostly well dressed servants negotiated whilst their masters lounged leisurely.
Every once in a while you crossed a couple of guards, wearing distinct uniforms, but there also were a lot of ‘sellswords’ free roaming warriors who would fight for gold or glory.
As Gerhardt moved around the different sights and smells danced about, part revulsion, part intoxication and above all most of it exotic.
Street artists also performed their craft, juggling knives, swallowing blades and spitting fire about to entertain the crowds.
Rest for a moment and you would be caught by one of the eager maidens, who seized every opportunity to lure in new clientele, even if those of the cloth.
As Gerhardt passed them he noticed the nervous and worry stricken expression as the young woman practically climbed into his lap. He was quick enough to dodge the other girl, but Corvo wouldn’t be so lucky.
Seeing Gerhardt easily sidestepped her, she immediately sought another victim and the poor prince was right in her line of sight.
A smile curled around her painted lips and unlike Gerhardt, she wouldn’t allow the young one to side step her.
“Well hello young master…” Her hoarse voice whispered as blocked his line of sight.
“New in town? Let me show you a good time, this city has much to offer to someone…as virile as you.” She said practically draping herself all over his armour.
“I could make your stay worthwhile, you would never wish for anything for your pleasure is my forte.” She lips practically breathed on his skin as her eyes tried to lock him down. Ensnare him and strip away his defiance.
She was about to offer him a free shot of Mira’s Madness, when they were interrupted and forced to make room.
It was a procession, a parade to celebrate the newest Courtesan. An announcer walked in front to announce to the city the newest desire in the Lilypond.
Behind him followed a man with a gong and 6 men, two to throw down blossom petals for her to step on, two that held up lamps naming the specific House of Desire and two that held a sun and rain cover, shading the beauty from the element and adding more prestige to the already spectacular walk.
She walked underneath the cloth roof in what could only be described as the finest silks and satins, her hair and make up donned to perfection and her head held high with both dignity and grace.
Behind her followed the other two roof bearers, as well as a set of guards belonging to the house. Finally there followed the last two, one lamp bearer and one ‘gift giver’ who would offer small blessings as a token from the Courtesan’s character.
In this case it was actual money, small alms, but generosity nevertheless.
Sorsha noticed Corvo for a moment and halted, stopping the procession for a moment, a highly unusual thing to do.
The guards immediately tensed up and the crowd stepped aside as she approached.
She glanced at the girl who held a glare of contempt for her.
Which Sorsha answered with her special smile.
“I think not that he is receptive to your touches Azheera.” She spoke her voice light and soothing, like fresh spring water.
A snort full of disdain followed as the girl let go, removing any hold of him she had, knowing she had little chance against a proper Courtesan.
Sorsha’s eyes wandered to the prince, taking him in for a moment before she mysteriously smiled.
“You’re welcome…” The gentlest whispered graced his ears as she turned and to return to her parade. The procession once more started and the crier once again shouted.
“Behold the Emberflame of the City! Semantine! Behold her a gentle fire of beauty and passion.”

Ashen Skies

Leongarde’s closest harbour lay before them.
They could see the sailors work quickly to set the fins and side sails back and tie them up as they sailed towards the underbelly of the city.
In order to reach the harbour they had to sail into the opening within the rock.
This would lead them to the harbour that lay within, in a large cavern that opened up and brought them to the underlayer of the city.
There it would dock and they would be able to step off.
The dark rough stone opened up for them and as they sailed into the opening swallowed them whole, floating on the current within and the smooth movement of the tail-fan sail, which gentle movements offered them a soft thrust, allowing them to glide in with care.
The place seemed dark, damp and cold, but was lit partially by Sinderdust that lined the walls with wonderous glowing veins, as if they entered a living breathing creature.
From afar they could discern a the hint of a gentle drum, continuous and repetitive, before other differently coloured lights filled the tunnel as it widened and showed the crystal roof above them, almost like a glass ceiling of sorts. Then the doors of Avelore doomed up out of the darkness.
Two massive stone slabs that opened before them, groaning, complaining as the mechanism that was involved was put to work again. From the side the could hear the cracking of a whip, beating some unfortunate as they sailed out of the cavern and into the open harbour before them. The docks stretching out around them, in a circle, giving access to the underlayer of the city and the stairs to the higher levels.
The Harbour and the undercity was very much that, dark grimy alleyways and streets made up out of miners, water trackers and mist harvesters homes.
The sailors, women of low repute and prize fighters would drop in on alehouses and seedy taverns. Other lesser professions that were very much needed, but weren’t allowed to be noticed were leather tanners, dyers, slave houses & houses of pleasure.
Naturally there was a more refined part of the harbour, that’s where the rich went, it was named ‘the Pavilion’ and it was heavily guarded and very selective on who they allowed to enter. It also was run by the one of the most ruthless criminal groups to ‘serve’ the city.
If you looked further you could see young priests proselytised the mercy of the mother, being ignored by almost all whilst in an alleyway around the corner some cheeky little whore sucked the life out of a very content customer.
All in all the Harbour told anyone who paid attention that those living there were dealt a bad hand in life.
Their lives were harsh, where most of the earnings would be spend on forbidden pleasures and drink to drown their misery and aches in.
It also was clear by the few elderly moving about, that these people died young.

The Stairs brought one to groundlevel of the City. It was set up like a large flower, with certain sections of the city only capable to be reached by the bridges that connected them to the large centre.
It was also known as the Twelve Gates.
Once there had actually been Twelve Gates, but time and restructuring the city lead to some of them being torn down to make room for houses or the space was used in a different manner.
Regardless the name stuck.
An Abreviation of the longer 11 Roads and Twelve Gates.
The gates were truly nothing too special, some practically crumbled by looking at them. Others were well maintained and heavily manned.
But the grand market was set up in the central section. It was where rich and poor intermingled, at the different stalls all sorts of wares were sold, even those of the flesh.
It wasn’t uncommon for the houses of the pleasure district to ‘advertise’ at the market. The fairest, youngest and prettiest ‘flowers’ were send up flirting and leaving ribbons with the name of the House in the pockets of the lusting.
For slaves there was a different market, one more hidden from public view in as while slavery was still frowned upon, it was also regarded as common. They basically were of the opinion that things were fine if you didn’t pry too deeply.
People from all ages were sold here, some willingly went in, others were taken. Once branded, there was little one could do to escape one’s fate.

Not that the poor had it any better. Their district was one of small drafty rooms with walls that were paper thin. Still the promise that everyone had a chance to change their fate offered the people a sliver of hope and they clung to that with all their might.

The rich lived lavishly, in grand houses in a well guarded part of the clockwork city. They had carriers and runners taking them from place to place or employed their own. Their feet never needed to walk more than was necessary and spend their free time in the Gardens or the Lillypond.
The Lillypond; was known as the pleasure district. Gambling houses, drinking establishments for those with money, the theatre, Fencing hall and of course the Courtesans lived here.
Under the shadow of the very place that had once condemned them, the High Castle, a building so large and imposing that it reached into the heavens.

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

Yes, cause I was wondering whether you had incorporated that 'extra info', but couldn't really see a difference.

Ashen Skies

"What gave it away?" Gerhardt mysteriously smiled at that question, before he genuinely answered.
"Young folks such as yourself have an air of honesty about them. Even if you would lie I'd still be able to smiff out the truth from your demeanor and actions." He answered. "Masking one's feelings is not something everyone can do. Many attempt at it, some bluff their way through and others attempt to divert the attention away from it, but truly masking one's self is rare.
The best at it are the magicians, sure to the common eye they perform simple parlor tricks that when the trick is explained, the magic and mystery is broken.
What they don't see is half of that trick. The perfectioning of movement, the stillness of one's expression to not give away the truth of the matter. Routine. To live one's craft and to become the act."
He continued his prepared talk, knowing the young brash prince would need it.
They were far from the safety and familiar walls of his Kingdom.
He took in the young prince's responses, knowing full well the displeasure some of his words caused. Still, play time was over. He had to grow up and become the man he was destined to be or Belisio would suffer even longer.
Gerhardt sighed.
Uilles had always been better at this. The old Knight had always managed to garner respect and favour by just showing up.
Sometimes Gerhardt had thought it quite unfair.
Especially knowing what the young prince's intentions had been.
Uilles would have been a better mentor than he.
Still, no use going back to burned down bridges, not when it was time to move forward.
The boy's immediate retaliation made Gerhardt think he'd hit a nerve somewhere.

"What do you take me for?" Corvo scoffed as he set his cup of Brenwyn down, unfinished. "After everything that's happened, nothing could be further from my mind. In any case, allow me a moment to get dressed... and call me Duncan."
Gerhardt turned his eyes on him again.
"I take you for a young man in his prime. You have urges just like the rest of us, to procclaim otherwise would truly be foolhardy and stupid. Consider it merely a friendly warning and reminder, Duncan. Many a strong and loyal heart have fallen the moment they met the 'right' pair of 'fine eyes'. Just know that should you want company, you'd better pay for it. That way it is strictly business and you can be assured he or she is only interested in your coin."

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

Fine, tired from the eveningshift and in a couple of hours back into the fray.

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

Dag’Tyr had gone after the Wooden One, in search of answers and hopefully, solutions.
He was directed to the Library and for a split second he was struck by the awe of the gathering of so much knowledge.
Not to say the Kin didn’t have Libraries, but they were not as extensive nor as diverse as the Fenhall Library.
Whilst the Kin recorded quite a few things, plans, rights, family trees, myths and sagas of old, most of them would be held in the hall of records and it was well known amongst the Kin that the Record Keeper guarded those with the ferocity of a Mother Behemoth.
As he passed several bookshelves he finally found the druidess standing there along with another figure, one of the Noctem if he was not mistaken.
“Beggin’ yer pardon.” He called out as he approached them.
“You were the one speaking of the Heartlands and the Rot right?” He asked as he stopped at their side and introduced himself.
“I’m Dag’Tyr and I am seeking answers too. If I can aide you with your quest, perhaps you’d be so good as to share what you known regarding this Rot and the Heartroot and such. The local alchemist proclaims none can be found around anymore and considering these different plagues that have sprung up all so suddenly, leads me to believe they may have a similar root cause. If you pardon me the pun.”

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

I'll join the other two researching. I'll catch up with the other two and hoping to find out about the Rot and whether it could be that Heartroot cannot be found anymore and if the Wooden One and Noctem have any ideas on that score.

Ashen Skies

Part 1. The Harbour and parts of the Undercity.
Leongarde’s closest harbour lay before them.
They could see the sailors work quickly to set the fins and side sails back and tie them up as they sailed towards the underbelly of the city.
In order to reach the harbour they had to sail into the opening within the rock.
This would lead them to the harbour that lay within, in a large cavern that opened up and brought them to the underlayer of the city.
There it would dock and they would be able to step off.
The dark rough stone opened up for them and as they sailed into the opening swallowed them whole, floating on the current within and the smooth movement of the tail-fan sail, which gentle movements offered them a soft thrust, allowing them to glide in with care.
The place seemed dark, damp and cold, but was lit partially by Sinderdust that lined the walls with wonderous glowing veins, as if they entered a living breathing creature.
From afar they could discern a the hint of a gentle drum, continuous and repetitive, before other differently coloured lights filled the tunnel as it widened and showed the crystal roof above them, almost like a glass ceiling of sorts. Then the doors of Avelore doomed up out of the darkness.
Two massive stone slabs that opened before them, groaning, complaining as the mechanism that was involved was put to work again. From the side the could hear the cracking of a whip, beating some unfortunate as they sailed out of the cavern and into the open harbour before them. The docks stretching out around them, in a circle, giving access to the underlayer of the city and the stairs to the higher levels.
The Harbour and the undercity was very much that, dark grimy alleyways and streets made up out of miners and mist harvesters homes. The sailors, women of low repute and prize fighters would drop in on alehouses and seedy taverns. Other less professions that were very much needed, but weren’t allowed to be noticed were leather tanners, dyers, slave houses & houses of pleasure.
Naturally there was a more refined part of the harbour, that’s where the rich went, it was named ‘the Pavilion’ and it was heavily guarded and very selective on who they allowed to enter. It also was run by the one of the most ruthless criminal groups to ‘serve’ the city.
If you looked further you could see young priests proselytised the mercy of the mother, being ignored by almost all whilst in an alleyway around the corner some cheeky little whore sucked the life out of a very content customer.
All in all the Harbour told anyone who paid attention that those living there were dealt a bad hand in life, theirs was a harsh life, where most of their earnings would be spend on forbidden pleasures and drink and it was clear by the few elderly moving about, that these people died young.