Awesome! We would love to have you :). Feel free to take your time to shift through everything.
We built a discord as well which doubles as a wiki for the RP with links to a bunch of different world lore. Feel free to PM me once you are ready to make a character or ping me in the OOC :) Once your character is finalized I'll give you a link to the discord.
Minus the neck ribbon and blood under her eyes. Her irises are dark brown instead of yellow
Bio:
Tayla never knew her mother. The woman died giving birth, leaving Tayla with a father who resented her. Her father, a simple carpenter, drowned his sorrows in alcohol. His resent gradually turning abusive.
The abuse started with neglect, then turned verbal before ultimately becoming physical. Before long, the neighbors started taking notice of Tayla's ever growing bruises, her bleeding lips and her increasingly skittish nature. They began to talk behind her father's back, and that only made things worst.
Her father blamed Tayla for his worsening reputation. At age 14, he began locking her in their house. Shackling her ankle to an anchor point on the wall. There she remained for a year. Unable to run from her father's rage. Unable to fight against his overwhelming strength. Her lucky break came only by chance. On a night where her father left her beaten and bloodied. On the floor she lay. Cradling ankle that swelled tightly against the shackle that held her, Tayla trembled alone in the darkness. The salty taste of blood thick in her mouth.
She carefully tried to adjust the shackle's tight grip on her ankle. Oblivious to the magic potential the taste of blood upon her tongue held. She focused fruitlessly on adjusting the chain, when suddenly the metal shackle softened and crumbled like charcoal beneath her grip.
Tayla sat there stunned. Unable to comprehend what had happen. A single thought ran through her head. 'Run'. Tayla hobbled her way out of her prison. Robbing her passed out father of coin. She ran from the town with a limp, at the dead of night. Stopping only after passing out from exhaustion. When she awoke, she found herself among a traveling caravan, that had found her passed out in the middle of the road.
In the days that followed, the caravan cared for her and tended to her wounds. They many questions about Tayla such as: What was her name? How old was she? Where she come from? Where were her parents? Where did she get those bruises? She fielded the questions with care. Habit drilled into her by fear when the neighbors questioned her about her father.
"I don't know." She would say. "I can't remember." She would answer.
Taking offense Tayla's unfriendly nature, the caravan quickly lost interest in the child. After caring for her wounds, they arrived at the capital of the Nation of Touch. There, they sent her on her way. Though not before charging her for the food and supplies they wasted upon her. And with that, Tayla found herself penniless in a foreign city. Her only belongings being the clothes upon her back.
Tayla spent the next several years as a street-rat, begging for scraps in the streets. It was during this time that Tayla began to grow wise of her magical abilities. She learned that the taste of her blood could harden and soften a material at will. Though she remained ignorant as to why or how it work.
It wasn't long before Tayla began using this ability to break holes in various containers and steal the food or valuables from within. She began to grow bold. Stealing from increasingly dangerous targets. This is what led Tayla to Sightless Syella.
At the time Syella had yet to become Sightless. She spent much her time looking for new recruits among the street-rats of the land's many cities. On a hot summer day, Syella caught Tayla stealing from her. Recognizing Tayla's talent for what it was. Syella spent the following days befriending Tayla and gaining her trust.
From there. Tayla joined the Cult. There she learned more about her abilities, and rose up in the ranks. Her time in the cult took her to Shimmertown. During the battle of Shimmertown, Tayla was captured as a prisoner.
Personality:
Tayla doesn't trust easily, especially when it comes to men. She has a temper built up from history of issues she has left ignored. She fears getting to close to anyone and has a habit of pushing them away before they can hurt her. When confronted with her problems, she gets defensive out of fear of facing her weaknesses head on.
Quirks:
Being the daughter of a carpenter, Tayla has picked up a few tricks of the trade. She will often whittle away a piece of wood when when needing something to do with her hands.
Skills/Magic:
Gustum Hydraision (Taste Magic)
Weaknesses:
Tayla has a temper that can often become a hindrance. This temper will often lead to rash actions on her part.
Equipment/Items:
Tayla wields a duel swords that are custom made so that the blade is melded with the handle on the hilt. This way she can use her magic to warp the sword without touching the actual blade.
In addition to the swords, she wears a belt holding bags of seasoned cotton tufts, which she pops in her mouth to trigger the various effects of her magic. She also carries a bag of coins which she uses as projectiles when fighting with her magic.
Skills/Magic: Chres is a Tempraisionist, touch based magic which uses body heat as a fuel. He has a knack for fighting and protecting. He doesn’t do much protecting anymore though.
Appearance: Light brown hair with a few wisps of grey. Grey eyes. No Axe. Wears a Metal Glass pendant and gloves.
Bio:
Chres Sansus had everything he could have ever wanted. A loving wife, a baby on the way, a cozy home in the Nation of Touch and a job as the head bodyguard for one of the land’s most highly proclaimed traders, Seilent Mercaido. His job allowed him to travel to all five of the land’s nations.
Unfortunately, Chres’s job meant he was away from his wife quite often. Some jobs would leave him away from his wife for months at a time, with only a few days to spend with her when he returned home. If it weren’t for his job, then perhaps misfortune would have never found Chres. If it weren’t for his job, perhaps he would have been a father. If it weren’t for his job Chres would have been able to live his life happily, blissfully unaware of what would ultimately end up breaking him.
It was during one of his business trips when Chres’s entire life began to crumble before him. He was on his way to The Broken Isles with High Trader Mercaido. The Cult of Insight had reached out to Mercaido to discuss a business proposal. Mercaido had never been a fan of The Cult, but money was money, and they were offering plenty.
Chres didn’t really think much of this business trip. To him The Cult was just another group of people who believed in another deity that Chres didn’t believe in himself. In Chres’s mind, The Cult’s beliefs may just be more justified than everyone else’s, at least going by the stories he heard of The Distortion.
None of that was important to Chres. Chres never really cared what other people believed in. If there was one thing that Chres was looking forward to about this trip, it was seeing The Distortion in person. A place where the sky was black and the sun was green? Now that would be an interesting sight to see. Sadly though this trip would not be the quiet business trip that Chres was hoping for.
When Chres arrived at the city occupied by The Cult, a city by the name of Kaltem, it was still early morning. As such, when entering The Distortion, the change in the land was sudden and quite noticeable. The sky immediately turned pitch black. The sun itself shifted from the east to the north, as quickly as an eye could blink and turning green as it did so. Additionally the shadows of all living creatures stretched towards, not away from, the light of the rising green sun.
Chres was in disbelief and awe. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it for himself. “So the stories are true.” He said. High Trader Mercaido simply nodded. Apparently he had seen The Distortion before.
As they entered the town of Kaltem Chres couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of wrongness. The people felt off in this town. From time to time, a few people would stop what they were doing and look at Chres and High Trader Mercaido. Their heads slightly cocked. A smirk slowly appearing as if remembering a funny joke. Their gaze following them until disappearing from view.
It put Chres on edge. At any moment he expected someone to jump their caravan. Yet, nothing happened. High Trader Mercaido met with The Head Sightless, Vetius, without a single problem. Mercaido was able to successfully secure a very generous trade deal with The Cult. They then were shown around Kaltem, wined, dined and provided with luxurious rooms with quality comfort.
Still feeling uneasy. Chres didn’t go to sleep immediately. He set up guards around High Trader Mercaido’s room and led the first watch of the night himself. Chres spent several minutes of the watch staring out a nearby window at the green moon in the purple night sky. Except for a sudden thump down the hall spooking them, the watch went by without any issues.
The guards Chres assigned for the next shift did not arrive immediately. After about an hour or so finally one of the guards, Fen was his name, showed up for relief. The other one, Tarn, was missing. The one who showed up looked slightly nervous and jumped when Chres called his name. When questioned, Fen told Chres that Tarn had went off to a nearby brothel as soon as they woke. Chres was unable to get a straight answer from Fen for why he looked so disturbed though.
Chres shook his head. This wasn’t the first time Tarn ran off, he always came back but this was one time too many. Chres would need to let the man go after this. Chres let Fen take his post, went to the room provided for himself and fell asleep promptly. That’s when everything went wrong.
Chres had a vision that night. The vision brought a bout of euphoria with it. Its contents, however, shattered Chres’s ignorance and bliss forever. In his vision he saw that the baby his wife was pregnant with was not his. His wife had cheated on him with a man Chres knew very well. High Trader Mercaido. Apparently, the man had been secretly wooing Chres’s wife for some time now, right under Chres’s nose.
Chres woke that morning in a fit of rage. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew the vision to be true. He stormed off to Mercaido’s room. He pushed past a startled Fen, Tarn still hadn’t arrived at his post, and burst into Mercaido’s room. The moment he opened the door, a crossbow bolt whistled past his head.
“Blast.” Mercaido’s voice. The man was sitting on a chair facing the door. A now unloaded crossbow in his hands. The man stared at Chres calmly. “I never was a good shot.”
Mercaido put down the crossbow and got to his feet. “I saw myself die a few minutes ago. You killed me yourself.”
“You bastard! Mercaido, you slept with my wife?!” Chres roared in anger. “The child. My future child. Is it not mine?”
“I did. Quite often actually.” Mercaido said calmly pulling out a knife. “And no. The child is probably not yours.”
Chres yelled in blinding anger as he felt his body heat leave him. Compressing his body heat into a small, glowing, dull, red ball, Chres threw the Heat Construct at Mercaido’s body. The heat construct exploded on impact, in a burst of force. The blast sent Mercaido and his knife flying. Chres dashed forward, catching the knife in midair and stabbing it into Mercaido’s neck.
How long had Mercaido been sleeping with his wife? What did he do to make his wife betray him like this? So many questions flashed through Chres’s head as he watched the light leave Mercaido’s eyes. Chres felt a tiny itch at the back his neck. Another vision could answer the questions streaming through his mind. Perhaps if he…
“I killed Tarn.”
Fen’s voice. Chres turned to the wide eyed bodyguard. The man hadn’t moved an inch to stop Chres. The Head Bodyguard in him had half a mind to lecture Fen about that. Except he didn’t feel like lecturing right now. Hell, if anyone needed a lecture, it would be Chres. Did he seriously just kill the man he was supposed to protect?
“Who?” Chres asked not fully comprehending.
“Tarn. I killed him. Stuffed the body in the washroom. I had a vision… I had to, Sir. I had to do it.”
Chres put his hand to his head. What was going on? Could this be the Insight he’s heard stories about? Chres lowered his hand and brushed past Fen in a daze.
“Where are you going?” Fen asked.
“Home.”
Fen nodded slowly. “I think… I think I’ll stay here. I have questions that need to be answered.”
Chres just nodded grimly and went to his room. He packed his belongings quickly and left the town of Kaltem.
A week later, he came home. His wife surprised him with a gift. His birthday had just passed. Chres said nothing and opened it. Two pendants of Metal Glass. Familiars. One for her. One for him. Chres looked his wife in her beautiful eyes, unable to confront her. Perhaps his vision was wrong and Mercaido lied.
“I would have had Birthday sweets had I known you would be back so soon. Usually you write ahead of time.” She said to him in her sweet voice. “How was the trip. How is Mercaido doing? We should have him over for dinner again soon.”
Suspicion returned to Chres. Mercaido so calmly admitted to sleeping with Chres’s wife. “Dead.” Chres said.
A sudden wash of grief crossed her face. “What?” She gasped. The words barely audible.
Chres got up and headed to the door. He knew now. He knew the truth. “He’s Dead.” Chres said again. “I killed him.” Chres opened the door and slammed it behind him.
He went to the nearby tavern that night. Got drunk. Came home. Got into a fight with his wife and passed out. He woke up the next morning to find his wife beaten to death. Her dried blood on his hands.
Chres’s heart raced. Tears pouring down his checks. “Wh… what have I done...” he whispered barely able to get the words out. Stricken with grief he collapsed to his knees. Staring motionless at his dead wife’s body.
He must have been there for hours before thought returned to him, as it was already dark out. He had to leave. He realized. He had to run away from this lie of a life that was his. There was a tiny itch at the back of is neck as he thought that.
He got to his feet and packed. Food and supplies. Once ready, he headed towards the door and was about to open it before seeing the two Familiar pendants on a small round table next to the door. Chres hesitated before grabbing them both. Then he left.
Personality: Lately his outlook on life has been pretty grim. Since his life altering event Chres has never been the same man. He still wears his ring, and will call himself a married man if asked. He doesn't drink anymore. He no longer trusts himself to drink. He has a bit of a dry sense of humor.
He’s become a bit suicidal since the event. Always putting himself in fights and situations to try to get himself killed. In his mind he deserves physical punishment for his crimes and he keeps trying to find humiliating ways to die. His plans to die are always thwarted though. A part of him still wants to keep living.
Quirks: He carries a flask containing flavored water in it. He also keeps looking for ways to get himself beaten up or killed.
Weaknesses: The cold. His disire to put himself in dangerous situations.
Equipment/Items: Chres carries a knife in each boot and a dagger at his side. Usually he’ll shape the weapons he needs with his magic.
Other items of importance includes his two Familiar pendants. The one his wife bought him he wears around his neck it’s active. The other he keeps in his pack.
Chres’s Familiar will switch between the form of a female fairy like being to a tiny ferret. Curious about the world and mischievous too. Chres calls her Sil.
Saencila, The Land of Senses. A Land where the five senses spew magic and are worshipped as pure and holy. A Land rich in long lost history. The sole unbroken continent in a world torn apart by a battle of ancient forces long forgotten.
Amidst a new war between two great nations, dormant forces awaken seeking dominion over all. The Cult of Insight schemes, the Crazed amass, the Discarded stretch their prison thin. As the night grows dark, chaos threatens to swallow the land once more.
The Basic Premise
Saencila revolves around the sacred Five Senses. The story unfolds in a war between two of its great nations, with the struggling Nation of Sight seeking aid from the fanatical Cult of Insight, inadvertently inviting a greater evil.
On one side are the Pactmakers, unrelated individuals bound to the ancient entity known as The Being on Many Names, including titles like The Lord of Senses and Tricksters of Tricksters. On the opposing side are the Discarded; their existence has been forgotten by time. These entities are ancient powers that were imprisoned long ago, except for the Discarded of Sight.
However, a new faction, the Crazed, emerges, seemingly aiding the Cult and Discarded. These magic wielders, driven to madness by their powers, have a history of conflict due to discrimination. However, this time, they appear disciplined and controlled, though their animosity towards normal people of Saencila remains.
You, the protagonist, are an everyday person thrust into a conflict between powerful entities and warring factions.
What's currently being worked on
As of November 2023 we are fending off an ambush of Crazed inside of a lord's manor.
In addition, we are hoping to recruit new members.
Link to see the current battlegrounds for the war. The land highlighted in red has been taken by the Nation of Touch. https://i.imgur.com/v5mOwEz
Year 4256 24th day of the month Olfaccium. Nation of Sight Early Morning
In the weeks since Shimmertown fell to the Empire of Touch and the Cult of Insight was kicked out of the city, the war between The Nation of Sight and the Empire had largely remained stagnant. With the capture of Shimmertown, access to the Nation of Sight’s biggest supplier of food, the Nation of Taste, had largely been cut off. Shipments of food now were forced to travel by ship which ported in cities far south.
By the looks of things, the Empire of Touch seemed largely content with staying put. Waiting on the Nation of Sight to weaken before making their next move. The Nation of Sight and their newfound allies, the Cult of Insight, seemed just as quiet.
However, the tides of war are never still for long. In the ensuing weeks, reports surfaced of coordinated Crazed magic user attacks disrupting the Army of Touch's supply lines and reconnaissance teams. These assaults raised questions: Who was orchestrating these Crazed attacks? Were they aligned with the Cult of Insight, the Nation of Sight, or another faction altogether?
Snap, splatter. Snap, splatter. Snap, splatter.
Just like that, the farming family that had kindly allowed Juss and Tey to stay the night were dead.
Eyes wide open, Tey lowered her hand to the ground. The rest of her face remained expressionless. The splatter of blood and brains coated Tey from head to toe.
“Senses, Tey.” A shooken up Juss said to his younger sister. “You killed them... You killed them all...”
Juss felt his heart pounding in his throat as he stared down at the now headless farmer, wife, and daughter of five.
“She laughed at me.” Tey said in a monotone voice. Her eyes were still wide. Every day, Juss swore she blinked less and less.
“The girl? Tey, she just wanted to play.”
“She laughed.” Tey repeated in that same monotone voice. “I don’t like it when they laugh.”
“Senses.” Juss muttered under his breath. She was getting worse. She was always getting worse. Every day, she became more Crazed.
Juss swallowed. Just like with all Crazed magic users, Tey had been born with her Crazed magic. Magic that fueled off of a person’s sanity rather than something else. He had been told that all Crazed were impacted differently by their magic. Some succumbed to it sooner, others took years. Some heard whispers, while yet others became disillusioned with reality.
For Tey, she had quickly become less and less social and emotive. Easily triggered by laughter. The madness' claws ran deep.
He couldn’t lose her to this affliction. He would not lose her to it! All they had were each other. No parents. No friends. No family. Just each other. They would stop her madness. Some way. Somehow.
“We can’t stay here anymore.” Juss said. He gently took his sister’s hand. “We have to go.”
Tey looked to his hand and then to Juss. Her blank wide eyed stare ever present.
“No more using your magic, okay?” Juss said in as soothing a voice as possible.
Tey looked at him but said nothing.
Juss squeezed her hand ever so slightly. “Please, Tey. It will only make you worse. You have to promise me.”
At last, Tey nodded. “I promise.” She said.
Juss released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He gave Tey a hug. A hug that was not reciprocated. His hugs never were anymore.
“Just wait a little longer, Tey. If the rumors are true, this Hekkru… He can save you.”
“No more laughing?” Tey asked.
“No more laughing.” Juss agreed.
The days following, Juss did his best to keep away from civilization. They slept in the fields where they could, stole food from the farms they passed, and kept warm by huddling together at night.
Then at last, they reached the designated place. The place where the other Crazed that they met claimed this Hekkru would be.
It was nighttime on the 31st day of the month Olfaccium. At the summit of the tallest mountain surrounding Lake Colus a surprisingly large group of Crazed gathered. All of them had heard whispers of the Hekkru. The Crazed from another land. A Crazed who had been there during the War of the Crazed.
They said he had known Hleigar personally, the self proclaimed King of the Crazed before he was murdered by the Normals who had put an end to the Craze’s war for equality. But most importantly, this Hekkru was said to be a Crazed who had overcome his own madness. A Crazed who could do the same for others.
Hundreds of Crazed had gathered under the light of the full moon. Each had been lured by the same promises and rumors that had brought Juss and Tey here. Juss looked around at the gathered Crazed nervously, doing his best not to stare at any one Crazed for too long. He held his sister’s hand tightly. Waiting.
Where was this Hekkru? They all said he would show up during the full moon.
At last a man appeared with an entourage behind him. The man carried a torch. He was a muscular fellow with silver hair, orange-tan skin and scars that crisscrossed his face. He carried an air of authority with him. His presence alone brought the crowd to a hush, save for the few Crazed so far gone that they could not stop muttering to themselves.
Juss opened his mouth in awe. “That must be him, Tey.” He whispered.
Tey just stood there, staring blankly at the moon. She gave him the barest hint of a nod.
As the Hekkru approached, he removed his traveling cloak. He handed the cloak and his torch off to one of the people beside him.
“My brothers. My sisters. My family… Thank you all for coming here tonight.” The Hekkru spoke to the crowd in a booming voice. There was a hint of an accent in his voice. One which Juss could not place.
“They call me the Hekkru-Natjier. I came to Saencila from a distant land named Nhatkel. A land that is broken and torn. A land full of monsters and terrors. A land no longer fit for living.
“Despite the gloomy picture I paint, my home did have one silver lining. Back in Nhatkel, we Crazed were not outcasts. Back in my homeland we Crazed were people.”
The crowd seemed to murmur at this. The idea of being treated as people again roused a desire that many Crazed quickly learned to give up on. The words even seemed to draw Tey’s attention to the Hekkru-Natjier. Her eyes seemed a little less distant and more focused.
While the Hekkru-Natjier’s words drew an uneasiness to Juss, the change in Tey brought hope. There were things in this world that still bring back a bit of sanity in Tey. That, more than anything, was precious to him.
“I came to these freshlands a couple decades ago. I came here hoping to find a land inviting, but instead found a land full of people who had given up on the poor souls born into Crazed magic. I found a land so steeped in fear and hatred for the Crazed, that they enslave us, imprison us and hunt us. Hell, your Nation of Smell even has an entire clan of people who dedicate their entire lives to hunting down and killing Crazed!
“This was not the Freshlands that I had been hoping to find!” The Hekkru-Natjier said in a roar. “I had sought out this land to be free of monsters only to find that monsters lay here too in the form of man.”
The crowd roared out shouts of agreement. With each shout, Juss became more uneasy.
Eventually, the Hekkru-Natjier signaled the crowd to quiet. The crowd obliged.
“I’m sad to say that the atrocities I saw committed almost made me give up hope.” The Hekkru-Natjier said. “But it was then I met a man who made me believe that hope still remained. Hleigar, son of the Mistress of Merchants. A man better known as King of the Crazed.”
A whisper spread throughout the crowd. Everyone had heard of Hleigar, King of the Crazed. The legendary Crazed exiled to the Dead Sands only to survive its horrors and return years later with an army of Crazed behind him.
The name made Juss’ back stiffen. For while the name was known to bring hope among the Crazed folk, the people who were sane taught the stories of Hleigar differently. Instead of being known as a hero, he was known as a tyrant. A man who alone started the Crazed uprising which eventually led to the War of the Crazed.
With his army of Crazed, Hliegar had brought the entire Nation of Smell to its knees. He had enslaved the men, raped the women, and murdered children. The man might have even been able to maintain his grip of power on the Nation of Smell were it not for his hubris.
Drunk with power, Hleigar had brought his armies beyond the Nation of Smell, a move that stretched him too thin. He was eventually surrounded and killed. His armies scattered, and his ironclad grip on the Nation of Smell lost.
Since then, his name had been used to inspire smaller uprisings all over Saencila, but none as effective as Hleigar’s.
Juss tightened his grip on his sister’s hand. Ready to bolt at the first signs of violence. He was beginning to wonder if coming here had been a bad idea.
“I was there, my brethren.” the Hekkru-Natjier continued. “I was there when our King was exiled to the Dead Sands. I was there when he learned to overcome its dangers. I was there when he inspired others to his cause. I was there when he toppled the Nation of Smell and brought its Mistress of Merchants to her knees. And I was there to watch him free our people!”
The Crazed cheered “Hleigar!” They chanted. “King of the Crazed! King of the Crazed! King of the Crazed!”
The Hekkru-Natjier waved his hand. The cheers quieted.
“I was there when he died.” The Hekkru-Natjier said softly. “Murdered by The Mirage himself. High General Viktor Frost.”
The Hekkru-Natjier stared to the ground. A look of remorse on his face. “I often think back to that day, wondering what I could have done differently to save him. For perhaps if he had survived, things would be different now. Perhaps, if he had survived, you all would not be here. Desperate for salvation.”
Now facing the crowd, the Hekkru-Natjier’s expression had become one of acceptance. “But alas, that was not to be. I know in my heart that no matter what I did, our war for freedom was doomed to end. You see, in our King’s final days, the madness had begun to take its toll. Not even I, his trusted advisor, was able to get through to him.”
The Hekkru-Natjier said nothing for a moment. His words left a dark cloud among the Crazed.
“It is an inevitable fate that awaits us all, my comrades. The madness that plagues our kind. In the end the madness always wins. It takes us all, even our king.”
The speech had taken a turn. Juss leaned forward. Hopeful.
“Say it.” He whispered. The yearning in his voice.
At last, the Hekkru-Natjier continued his speech. “But what if I told you that no longer needed to be true.”
An excited whisper spread through the crowd.
“You all came here tonight seeking the power to free yourself of madness. Well, my brethren, you need not look further. For in my journey I obtained the power to calm the madness in us. I hold in my hands the power to save us all.”
Juss felt a weight being lifted from his shoulder. Years of worry dissolved in an instance.
“We did it, Tey!” He said laughing. “We finally did-”
Snap, splatter.
With the snap of Tey’s fingers, Juss’ head exploded in an instant. His blood and brains splattering everywhere.
Hand raised, her fingers still in snapping position, Tey began to shake.
“I-I don’t like it when they laugh…” She whispered. Tears began to stream from her wide open eyes as she stared down at her brother’s corpse.
“I don’t like it.” Her voice became a whimper. “I don’t like it…”
Snapped from their shock. The crowd around Tey began to rouse in anger. Crazed triggered by the violence began to shout at other Crazed. Arguments broke out. Fists were raised. Some tackled their fellows, hands on their throats.
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” The Hekkru-Natjier yelled in a booming voice. The man stomped his right foot. The ground and air seemed to ripple in response. The Crazed seemed to respond, as if a calming presence washed over them.
The Hekkru-Natjier, pursed his lips as he looked to Tey. The girl’s cheeks were stained with tears. She shivered alone in the night.
“My poor sister.” He spoke. Slowly, he drew towards Tey. The crowd parted as he approached. “The madness has taken much from you.”
Tey looked to the Hekkru-Natjier. Her blank stare was blank no more. There was a sadness there now. An empty sadness but sadness nonetheless.
“I promised him…” She whimpered. “I killed him…”
The Hekkru-Natjier placed his hand on Tey’s shoulder. “I know it hurts, sister, but it doesn’t have to be this way anymore. I can calm it, if you let me.”
Tey looked the Hekkru-Natjier in his eyes.
“Tell me, sister. Do you find my cause worthy of your desires?”
Visions and ideas flashed through Tey’s mind. A world free of Crazed subjugation. A world accepting of the change to come. A people willing to change with the new world.
Tey gasped and took a step back. In that moment, she saw the Hekkru-Natjier. Truly saw him.
She nodded to him. His cause was indeed worthy.
“Then let our bond be known, Sqarwn-Enx.” The air around Tey began to shimmer. “Bound to the cause from now unto life’s end… Shall the Nameless rise again.”
The Hekkru-Natjier breathed out. “It is done.” He said. “How do you feel?”
Tey blinked. The world seemed clearer now. The laughter quieted. “The madness…” She whispered. “It’s gone.”
“It’s calmed.” The Hekkru-Natjier corrected.
“You did it…” Tey continued. “You really did-”
Tey’s words trailed off. A sickening horror struck her.
“Juss…” She whispered.
She turned to her brother’s headless body.
“No no no no no no no. Juss! JUSS!”
Tey fell to her knees. Tears streaming anew.
“I didn’t want to… I didn’t mean to…”
“I’m so sorry.” The Hekkru-Natjier said. He placed his hand on the girl’s back. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“JUUUUUUSS!” Tey screamed.
“We’ll make this right.” The Hekkru-Natjier continued. “Together, we’ll make sure that nobody has to feel this pain a-”
The Hekkru-Natjier cut off. His eyes widened. Tey raised her hand to her head. Her fingers in snapping position.
“Forgive me.” She whispered.
“DON’T!” The Hekkru-Natjier reached out his hand to stop her.
Snap, splatter.
Tey’s head exploded. Her corpse falling atop her brother’s.
The Hekkru-Natjier closed his eyes and exhaled. One of the people from his entourage promptly appeared beside him with a cloth. Sighing, the Hekkru-Natjier took the cloth and wiped the blood from his face and tossed it aside.
“My brethren. It seems the madness has claimed yet another life. Her fall to madness is something that never needed to happen. If the Normals of this land had cared for their fellows, then this girl may yet have still lived! If the Normals had sought to help us Crazed instead of shunning them, then this girl would still have had her head! If the Normals were not so keen on stripping us of humanity, locking us away, selling us to slavery, hunting us as if we were the real monsters, then perhaps our sister would not be dead!”
The crowd roared in agreement.
“My brothers and sisters. For too long we have suffered at the hands of the Normals! For too long we have been slaughtered by their hands! The Normals, they seek to control us. They believe that by suppressing us, they can maintain their way of life!
“What the Normals don’t understand is that there’s a storm of change coming! A storm that will break humanity unless we change with it!”
The Hekkru-Natjier let his eyes wash over the crowd. “My brothers. My sisters. We are that storm.”
The Hekkru-Natjier sat atop a boulder at the top of the mountain peak. There he stared up at the full moon. The Hekkru-Natjier. It was a title he had been given at the cost of his name. A title which roughly translated to God’s Hunger.
Tonight, some of that ‘hunger’ had been abated. Much of the Crazed in the crowd had joined him that night. His Sqarwn-Enx, those bound for life, had grown even larger.
He would have to kill the Crazed who didn’t join him. He couldn’t afford having word of his growing army spread to people who might do something about it. At one time, such actions would have given him pause. Now, however, he had become numb to such sacrifices.
One of the Hekkru-Natjier’s Sqarwn-Enx from Nhatkel approached.
“Hekkru-Natjier,” He said in their homeland’s language, “The new Sqarwn-Enx have been guided to the caves. In the morning, we will assign them to appropriate teams and locations and set them to work.”
The Hekkru-Natjier nodded silently, but his Sqarwn-Enx didn’t leave at the obvious dismissal.
“Is there anything else?” The Hekkru-Natjier said.
“Yes. A messenger from the Cult of Insight was in the crowd. He wishes to speak with you.”
The Hekkru-Natjier frowned. He turned his head ever so slightly and caught the visage of the cult member behind him.
The Cult of Insight was a group of people who had, until recently, been mostly shunned to the Broken Islands in the southeastern waters of Saencila. The war had changed things, however. Since war between the Nation of Sight and the Empire of Touch began, the cult had formed an alliance with the King of Sight. Together, they had begun to make moves against the Empire’s invading army.
The cult did not worship the Lord of Senses like most people on Saencila. Instead, they had their own god. The ‘True God’ they claimed. An Unseeing Eye who granted them access to the Insight and ‘blessed’ their Islands with the Distortion. They claimed their God’s Insight gave them knowledge. Helped them see things in places where they were not. Both in the past and the future.
While much of the population of Saencila were inclined to hold the cult’s beliefs as superstitious nonsense, the Hekkru-Natjier knew better. While knowledge about the Cult had been lost to the people of Saencila, such knowledge was not forgotten to the Nhatkelese people. The cult’s power of Insight was real. An addictive power that tied the cult followers to their deity. As for the truth behind their deity? It was the Discarded of Sight. The only Discarded to not have been caught in the ancient prison.
“A messenger from the Clan of Insight.” Hekkru-Natjier spoke aloud in the native tongue. He made sure to emphasize the word ‘clan’ instead of cult. They preferred being called a Clan.
“What word does my dear friend, Sightless Vetius, have for me?”
The cult member drew closer and spoke. “My name is Doxiar, a Sightless-to-be. Sightless Vetius wishes to know if you made progress with the artifact.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I had.” The Hekkru-Natjier said. “But, I'm getting closer.”
“Closer how?” Doxiar asked impatiently.
The Hekkru-Natjier frowned at the man’s tone. Doxiar claimed to be close to achieving a position of high authority in the cult. The position of Sightless. Becoming Sightless would change the man. To make the change, he would have to scratch out his eyes and fully give himself to the Insight and his god.
No doubt, Doxiar had let the nearness of his goal go to his head. The madness in the Hekkru-Natjier’s head demanded punishment, but the calming power he held washed the madness away. It had no power over him.
“I know which artifact it is.” The Hekkru-Natjier said. He turned to look at the man. “It’s the one you all call the Needle.”
Doxiar pursed his lips. The uncertain look in his eyes made it clear to the Hekkru-Natjier that the man had never heard of the Needle.
The Hekkru-Natjier shook his head. Freshlanders. He thought. The passive nature of these lands seemed to have made all the locals dumb. None of them remembered the past.
“I don’t see how this information helps us.” Doxiar said.
“It helps because now I have a better idea of how to break through its defenses.”
Doxiar frowned at that. “Sightless Vetius sees these meetings of yours as unnecessary. He is of the opinion that you aren’t giving the artifact your full attention.”
The Hekkru-Natjier drew his hands into fists. Slowly he rose from his seat and approached the man. He towered over him by at least a foot.
“And so what if I’m not?” The Hekkru-Natjier asked coldly.
He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and intercepted his connection to the Insight.
Doxiar gasped. His sudden loss of control over the Insight shocked him. “What- What are you doing?”
“Perhaps it would be easier if I just talked to your boss one on one.” The Hekkru-Natjier growled.
“No!... Stop!”
The world blurred. Visions of Sightless Vetius filled the Hekkru-Natjier's mind.
“Sightless Vetius.” The Hekkru-Natjier spoke. “I hear you have problems with the way I do things.”
The vision of Sightless Vetius blinked, though other than that he showed no outward signs of being surprised by the Hekkru-Natjier’s abilities.
“Hekkru-Natjier.” Sightless Vetius said quietly. “We should not be conversing in this manner. The Being of Many Names might notice.”
“Oh, I know.” The Hekkru-Natjier said. “But, I’m getting tired of your impatience. If we are to work together on this, then I need your trust in this matter.”
Sightless Vetius said nothing for a moment before finally relenting. “We are short on time. You’ve been at this for months. To break the ancient prison, I need you to follow through.”
“Come on Sightless Vetius,” The Hekkru-Natjier said with a grin. “What use is having access to the Insight if you don’t use it? You should already know that I’ll pull through.”
Sightless Vetius did not reply. The Hekkru-Natjier took that as a sign that he had given in.
“The messenger you sent. The one who acts above his station. You know he has to die, right?”
Again, Sightless Vetius said nothing.
“Good.”
The Hekkru-Natjier ended their connection. The vision faded. The sounds of the world returning to him.
The Hekkru-Natjier could hear Doxiar screaming in pain. The man’s hands were covered in blood. He had begun to claw out his eyes. The Hekkru-Natjier had forced Doxiar to use far more Insight than he could handle. The man was now in the process of turning Sightless pre-maturely.
The early transformation will have ruined his mind. He would no doubt take the dive and turn into a Seed as well. Such transformation would certainly draw the Being’s attention.
Frowning, the Hekkru-Natjier grabbed Doxiar by the throat and crushed his windpipe and then swifty snapped his neck. The bloody eyed man fell limp.
The Hekkru-Natjier did not like working with the Cult, but it was necessary to break the prison and release the remaining four back into the world. Then, and only then, could the Hekkru-Natjier put into motion his real plans. Plans for his ascension. His plan to break and make humanity anew.
The Hekkru-Natjier let Doxiar’s corpse fall to the ground.
“Let the Nameless rise again.” He said ominously.
“Let the Nameless rise again.” His Sqarwn-Enx repeated with a bow.
The Rulezz
1 - Please use your common sense (our sixth sense :P).
2 - Your character sheet should contain all info on your character’s abilities. If you want something to be a secret from other players, PM me.
3 - You are allowed to have multiple characters if you want to just make sure you can maintain them.
4 - Certain abilities I may feel to be too powerful to have for a main character. Teleportation, Immortality, Invisibility, Mind Control, Telepathy, Telekinisis are a few. If you really want a power that might be considered powerful, PM me we'll talk and see if there's a way to make it work.
5 - Magic abilities must be linked to one of the five senses. This connection can be literal or metaphorical, but if it's metaphorical, I may request some adjustments if the tie to a sense feels too abstract.
6 - Please be patient if I can't respond right away. I'll do my best to be available and answer your questions.
7 - New hero characters should be pactmakers for now, unless there's a compelling reason otherwise. Pactmakers are those who have unknowingly make a pact with the Being of Many Names. Upon death, pactmakers lose their legacy to the Being, and their existence can only be remembered by other pactmakers.
8 - Have fun :)
About the land of Saencila
Magic in this land is linked to one of the five senses. You define your magic's specifics as long as it's tied to one of the senses. There are two types of magic users: Normal and Crazed.
Normal Magic users can wield magic without going insane. However, their magic requires a fuel source. These sources can be body-related (like heat or calories) or external (like light or crystals).
Crazed Magic draw power from their sanity, which deteriorates over time, potentially leading to violent acts. They are heavily stigmatized and hunted in many nations. Some nations study them, while others lock them away. This has caused growing hostility between Crazed and normal people, exemplified by the recent War of the Crazed. Many of the Crazed involved in this war have since gone into hiding.
Example Magic Systems: I'm a big fan of Brandon Sanderson-like magic systems. Here are some examples for each sense. Feel free to use, modify, or take inspiration from them. If you like the mechanics but want to change the abilities, that's perfectly fine.
The art of Corpus Tempraision Body Heat as fuel Created by: Pezz
Tempraisionists, who harness body heat for magic, create Heat constructs. These constructs can be wielded for offense or defense using three methods: Shaping, Weaving, and Compression.
Shaping
The least taxing method, Shaping allows the creation of mobile Heat constructs. They can take any form but require constant contact. The longer they're maintained, the more body heat is lost. Constructs can't be reshaped; they must be dismissed and recreated.
Weaving
Similar to Shaping but doesn't require constant contact. Weaved Heat constructs are sturdy and suitable for defense. They're immobile and can only be unwoven by the user. Some use cases includes creating platforms and stairs. Like with shaping, the energy in these heat constructs dissipates over time.
Compression
The most taxing method, Compression creates unstable energy that explodes when disturbed. It's used for traps and projectiles. Compressed constructs don't dissipate over time and can only be disarmed by setting them off or another Tempraisionist.
Challenges
Using body heat as magic makes Tempraisionists vulnerable to cold and hypothermia. Tricks to overcome this limitation include using the magic in warm climates and storing body heat in clothing worn in direct contact with the skin. Additional clothing can store more heat but may lead to overheating and hindered movement.
The Art of Gustum Hydraision Uses hydration as fuel and taste as an activator. Created by: Pezz
Gustum Hydraision temporarily alters an object's attributes using taste triggers and water as fuel. Those who practice this magic are called Hydraisionists.
Taste triggers activate the magic. There are five tastes: Bitterness, Saltiness, Sourness, Sweetness, and Umami, each with its own effect. Only one attribute can be modified at a time, and using this magic dehydrates the user.
Bitterness: Adjusts an object's friction. Saltiness: Temporarily changes an object's hardness. Sourness: Adds linear momentum to an object. Sweetness: Modifies an object's weight. Umami: Warps an object’s shape. Most fuel intensive ability and requires constant contact.
Hydraisionists must stay hydrated; dehydration dulls taste and increases water consumption for magic. A 10% loss of hydration leads to dehydration, and 15% to 20% results in death.
Special swabs absorb taste triggers, eliminating the need to lick random objects to activate the magic. These swabs are a significant advancement in the Hydraision practice.
The Art of Elementa Musaision
Elementa Musaision encompasses four elemental magic types, each controlled through musical sound. The element controlled depends on the instrument family played:
Woodwind Instruments: Control Wind String Instruments: Control Water Percussion Instruments: Control Earth Brass Instruments: Control Fire
Users magnify and manipulate existing elements but cannot create them. Specialization in specific abilities depends on proficiency with instruments in each category. Because of this, most users specialize in one or two elements.
While refined control requires instruments, users can activate the magic in a less refined manner:
Percussion specialists (Earth) can stomp to raise stone spires or snap fingers to launch small rocks. Woodwind specialists (wind) can whistle for minor wind effects. String specialists (water) can pluck strings for minor power. Brass specialists (fire) can buzz their lips to redirect a flame or cause an ember to flare up.
Prolonged use depletes oxygen from the user's blood, but they can store oxygen in jewelry containing stone or metal for later use.
A Sight-based magic system Requires light as fuel and see-through glass for storage.
Lumen Vocaision allows users, known as Vocaisionists, to conjure illusions called Light Constructs. It involves three steps:
1.View an image through a glass pane and store it for later use. 2.Customize the captured image by adding actions and commands. 3.Place the glass pane in a light source to summon the Light Construct, which consumes nearby light until it vanishes or the glass shatters. Stored images must be re-customized for reuse.
Three types of Light Constructs exist:
Summons: Customized images that can move, perform tasks, and fight.
Traps: Create invisible lasers that activate traps when crossed. These lasers are visible when dust, flour, or other powders are in the air.
Familiars: Advanced constructs with their own minds and personalities. Created using Metal Glass, they are mainly used as pets and require a blood link to their owner. Familiars exist in two states: owned and unowned.
The Art of Aroma Nervosion
A Smell-based magic system Uses a combination of the body’s sodium and perfumes as fuel, with the ability to store sodium in containers for later use. Created by: Pezz
Aroma Nervosion allows wielders, known as Nervosionists, to control scent trails of perfumes, creating physical tethers between objects. The properties of these tethers depend on the fragrance category of the perfume used.
Nervosionists require two things:
-Sodium from the body as fuel. -Perfume.
To prevent dangerous depletion of sodium, Nervosionists can magically store it in containers, often small bottles or tins strapped to their clothing. They can also carry salt to replenish their magic when needed.
In addition to sodium, Nervosionists need the scent of a perfume in the air to use their powers. They can manipulate the scent trail to create tethers, generally requiring two anchor points.
Once a scent trail materializes into a tether, the scent trail loses its aroma and cannot be reused.
Perfume Tether Properties
Tethers have one of four properties based on fragrance categories:
Floral Scents: Elastic properties, useful for combat or jumping off cliffs.
Ambery Scents: Retractable or expandable, great for hook shooting or pulling objects.
Woody Scents: Rigid and durable, suitable for creating weapons.
Fresh Scents: Ropy and flexible, functioning like traditional ropes but weaker and easily cut through.
Enchanted or magical equipment is imbued with the magic of another user. For example, Metal Glass pendants that summon Familiars (from the Lumin Vocaision magic system) are a type of magical equipment. Currently, Familiars from Lumin Vocaision are the only noteworthy enchanted equipment in this world.
Saencila introduces Magic Deterrents to counter various magic systems. Each magic system in Saencila is associated with one of the senses, allowing for clear identification. A deterrent for each form of magic is provided, typically hindering or blocking the sense the magic relies on, effectively cutting off the magic user from their abilities.
Hearing magic deterrent
Untuning Forks
Made from a special metal found in The Wailing Peaks, this tuning fork emits high and low pitched wailing sounds that create an irritating wavy effect, disrupting the listener's hearing. Prolonged exposure may lead to bleeding and permanent hearing loss, affecting both user and target.
Taste Magic deterrent
Liquid Ageusia
A liquid from the Sensory Range causes temporary mouth dryness and dulls the sense of taste. When mixed with salt, it becomes an inhalable gas, but is less effective in this form.
Touch Magic deterrent
Numbing Ivy
Extracted from a common vine, this oil induces numbness, making it an effective deterrent for touch-based magic.
Smell Magic deterrent
Wheezing Lotus Pollen
Produced by the puff lotus, a.k.a. the wheezing lotus, this pollen clogs the nose and can hinder breathing, acting as a deterrent for smell-based magic.
Sight magic deterrent
Dust Sand
Dust Sand, found in The Dead Sands, consists of fine particles that remain airborne, akin to dust after disturbance. Contact with the eyes induces tearing, leading to temporary blurred and dulled vision. When inhaled, the sand carries a faint scent of rot.
Other Magic Deterrents
In the world of magic deterrents, there are rare variants that diverge from the norm. Unlike traditional deterrents, these unique substances have the power to dispel magic upon contact, rather than being directed against the magic user.
Shadow Metal
Shadow Metal, a jet-black material that absorbs light, has the remarkable ability to dispel all sight-based magic on contact. It possesses the softness of gold but is significantly lighter.
Unknown Purplish Blue Substance
Emerging in Arc 1, this enigmatic substance, when applied to an arrow, nullified Touch Magic upon contact. Its effect mirrors that of Shadow Metal, dispelling magic in a similar manner.
Adepts are individuals born with a heightened sense of sight, hearing, touch, smell, or taste. This heightened ability is accompanied by a unique magical skill related to their specific sense. For instance, a sight adept may possess the ability to perceive heat, while another may be able to see in the dark.
Nation of Smell Known for aromatic cities and gardens, famed for spices, soaps, and perfumes. Emphasis on cleanliness and lush vegetation. This is a Nation of Merchants, with various area specializing in different trades. Each area lead by their own Mistress of Merchants.
Nation of Taste Nestled in fertile lands, renowned for abundant farming and high-quality produce. Protected by mountains, known for exceptional dishes and desserts. Flourishing trade in agricultural goods.
Nation of Hearing A pacifist haven of scholars, musicians, and politicking. Epicenter of education, innovation, and arts. Noteworthy for advancements in science and the arts, including fireworks, spyglasses, and emerging printing technology.
Empire of Touch Masters of craftsmanship, celebrated for architectural marvels, weaponry, clothing, tools, and furniture. Abundant in metals, boasting a formidable army, currently in conflict with Sight.
Nation of Sight In the midst of a war with the Touch Empire, this nation excels in art, paints, dyes, fashion, and quality writing instruments. Known for their valued food dyes. Economic struggles due to strained relations with the Touch Empire.
The War of the Crazed (4229-4234) was sparked by Hleigar, self-proclaimed King of the Crazed, seeking retribution for the mistreatment of those afflicted by Crazed magic. Hleigar's rise to power began in the Dead Sands after being exiled by his mother for a tragic incident. He united exiled Crazed and led a successful rebellion against the Nation of Smell, eventually expanding his rule.
The war was put to an end after Hleigar overextended his reach. Crushed by the Empire of Touch's Army, Hleigar was defeated and his followers scattered. Many remain in hiding to this day.
The Being of Many Names is a mysterious entity that occasionally appears, enticing people into forming unwitting pacts with him. He dons various names and introduces himself in different guises. His true nature and abilities remain a puzzling enigma.
The Discarded are powerful entities associated with the five senses of mankind. Of these, only the Discarded of Sight remains active, while the other four have long been sealed away. Each Discarded corrupts a specific sense through torture, driving individuals to surrender their afflicted sense in exchange for relief from suffering. This grim bargain results in the loss of their mind, will, and humanity, rendering them eternal slaves to The Discarded.
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