@rabidbacon Your turnnnnn!
Gotcha, boss! ;D
@rabidbacon
So I'm thinking maybe like two more posts in the tavern then chaos?
Sounds good. We can have it happen to them on the road, or as they approach Eldwic's house / village area?
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There's never enough time in a day.
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I find it interesting that caffeine supposedly helps peeps with ADHD become more calm / focused.
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A set up where a Bard lures people in and has their way with them, then lets the Assassin kill them in their sleep, and gives the bodies over to a Necromancer to make an army with...
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can't wait for my friday beers 😩
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Gotcha, boss! ;D
Sounds good. We can have it happen to them on the road, or as they approach Eldwic's house / village area?
As usual, she was right. Eldwic knew she meant well, and he gave her a thankful smile for being brave enough to fight for their seat. He resolved to do the same for her, next time, even if it meant turning into a beet-red, stuttering mess in front of a few toughs. The request for mead was met with an enthusiastic nod, and soon enough, the meals would arrive for them both, the stews piping hot, served with old bread, and the mead, cool and crisp in a wooden tankard.
"We could learn how to make our own mead," he said, his voice louder than he thought, amidst the constant din of conversation around them both. "Running off? That would be difficult, though... what with my pay as a ratter," Eldwic said, with a sigh. Ever the realist, already, his mind was churning through the terrible things such a reality would entail. "You might end up selling your hair. That would be a shame. It's long, and beautiful. Reminds me of the sun," he said, as he looked at her with a calm smile. Eldwic wasn't bashful about telling the truth, at least. "I'd sell my teeth first."
As a faster song started up, some people got up to dance. He stayed rooted to his chair, shrinking a little, while sending a small glare towards the bard. It was a lively, invigorating tune, but no doubt one that someone with two left feet would find difficult to move to. Some struggled, though even in their struggle, they still seemed to have quite the fun - no doubt helped along by liquid courage and a playful spirit.
"No, I'm not going to," he said, his lips straightening into a thin, tense line, in anticipation of what his friend might suggest. "You can go on though. Larder and I will keep your seat warm." Eldwic was certain Evalynn would find a partner right away. He wasn't going to stand in between whatever fun she had, but he resolved to keep close watch. "But just one song. We have to finish up and get out of here soon, before it gets too dark. Your father will have my hide, if you get home too late."
"We could learn how to make our own mead," he said, his voice louder than he thought, amidst the constant din of conversation around them both. "Running off? That would be difficult, though... what with my pay as a ratter," Eldwic said, with a sigh. Ever the realist, already, his mind was churning through the terrible things such a reality would entail. "You might end up selling your hair. That would be a shame. It's long, and beautiful. Reminds me of the sun," he said, as he looked at her with a calm smile. Eldwic wasn't bashful about telling the truth, at least. "I'd sell my teeth first."
As a faster song started up, some people got up to dance. He stayed rooted to his chair, shrinking a little, while sending a small glare towards the bard. It was a lively, invigorating tune, but no doubt one that someone with two left feet would find difficult to move to. Some struggled, though even in their struggle, they still seemed to have quite the fun - no doubt helped along by liquid courage and a playful spirit.
"No, I'm not going to," he said, his lips straightening into a thin, tense line, in anticipation of what his friend might suggest. "You can go on though. Larder and I will keep your seat warm." Eldwic was certain Evalynn would find a partner right away. He wasn't going to stand in between whatever fun she had, but he resolved to keep close watch. "But just one song. We have to finish up and get out of here soon, before it gets too dark. Your father will have my hide, if you get home too late."
(will give thoughts tomorrow!)
@rabidbacon
The timestamp in your latest post says 6PM, honey 🤭. I think you mean 6AM.
Fixed!
@Aeolian I just kept it super vague and left a hook!
@TokyoPewPew I wanted to interact too, but I wasn't sure how to write out what people see as she uses the ability - let me know if you'd like a reaction or something!
So here's a question for everyone: do you want a discord server for this roleplay? Yay or nay.
I've been ripping my hair out for the past few days over this, going through pros and cons. So, I'm just going to straight up ask and leave it to democracy to decide.
I have a Discord, but prefer interactions here for this RP. It's hard for me to keep track of too many sources of info, but it is a pretty nice idea. Like @Silly, I'm happy to collaborate in OOC or via PMs.
[Location] Landow, Estren
[Time] Sunday, 06:00 AM
[Interactions] N/A
The cry of an excited child made Aethalos turn. It always astounded her, seeing children thus. The young she had known always were far more behaved, or rather, controlled, in their expressions of wild joy and untempered sorrow. She felt a strange stirring, close to rage, but far more benign - it was the longing to protect, just as it was the regret of not being able to return to those she had failed in the past. She greeted the boy with a nod, the same gesture she extended to his mother. To the former Knight-Penitent, there was no real need to treat adults and children differently, in the most important things. After all, children would soon learn the truth of the world, and there was no virtue in hiding its cruelties from them. Instead, they should be prepared, strengthened and nurtured to face it head-on.
"Great Serpent! Earth Mother has told us that you promised to show the seas to me!" exclaimed the lad, teeth bared in an enthusiastic grin. His voice rose with each word he spoke. "Can I ride on your head? I want to go see what's down there, down in the ocean!" The boy's mother then stepped forward, grasping her son and shushing him with a shake of her head.
"So sorry, Great Serpent of the Seas!" she said, her eyes wide with embarrassment and a tinge of fear. It was her first time seeing the Regalia of Leviathan in person, and the tall woman could not be more different from the far friendlier Laura. "My son only loves the waters so. Please forgive his impatience."
In response, Aethalos reached out, her warm hand touching the woman's shoulder. Its metal counterpart drew out the gesture for the serpent of the seas, an invocation of peace.
"I forgive it," she whispered, reassuring the woman, while still striving to preserve the distant, authoritative image Votara wished for her to uphold. In truth, it was not so difficult, as Aethalos had always been cold, at least in the words she used. "If your son wishes to speak to me, let him come. I have time."
At this, the lad wrenched free from his mother's grasp, surging forth and peppering Aethalos with questions unending.
"Have you seen what's at the bottom? How do you hold your breath? When you fly, how can you do it without wings? Can you tie yourself into a knot? Why did Leviathan choose you?"
The last question struck a chord within Aethalos, and she held up a hand to initiate a pause.
"First, what is your name?" she asked, eyes studying the boy with an intimidating, but open gaze. "You must introduce yourself first, if you wish to ask for knowledge or blessings."
At this, the boy blushed, sputtering for a while, before proceeding to reply with newfound determination. From behind him, his mother looked on in a mix of worry and pride.
"I am Jacob Sanford," he said, his smile muted now, though his eyes still shone with hope. "I want to know more about the ocean! And you!"
"Well met, Jacob Sanford. I am Aethalos Vephariel," she replied, keeping a stoic expression, but granting the boy a small token of acknowledgment by casting her full focus upon him. "The bottom of the ocean is vast. I have seen a point or two... but the time it would take me to survey the whole floor of the ocean would be far better used in service of the people." Aethalos nodded at the Votaran guard, as if to say look, I'm hitting all the soundbites here, cut me some slack, though she returned her attentions back to Jacob before he could question her focus. "I hold my breath the same way you do. I do not know how Leviathan grants flight, but yes, I could tie myself into a knot in that form. Theoretically - but I will never do so. And finally... I know not Leviathan's will. I only serve as its instrument, the same way a cup holds water for those who thirst and wish to drink."
She offered the boy her ceremonial flask; there were others to replace it, and it would mean far more to him and his mother to have it than for her to keep it. The item was worth a small fortune, but surely, no one would stop the Regalia from making such a gesture.
"Here. A mouth that speaks too much and asks endless questions will eventually run dry. Consider the silence that comes when you drink of life, and there, in that silence, sometimes... the answers to your questions will also be found."
Aethalos then turned away to leave, ignoring the mother's shout of thanks and the boy's jubilant cheers. It filled her with warmth, to have them feel special, but she could not allow such attachments. She was to be a distant figure, one of impartial benevolence and strength, never to indulge in the excesses of joy nor sorrow. Instead, Aethalos embraced the constancy of impermanence; as she let her dissatisfaction wash over her, she found it replaced with a small contentment. At the very least, she had made someone's day, and with luck, this small incident would push the boy and his mother closer together, making a memory that would last the inevitable storms of life.
"Great Serpent! Earth Mother has told us that you promised to show the seas to me!" exclaimed the lad, teeth bared in an enthusiastic grin. His voice rose with each word he spoke. "Can I ride on your head? I want to go see what's down there, down in the ocean!" The boy's mother then stepped forward, grasping her son and shushing him with a shake of her head.
"So sorry, Great Serpent of the Seas!" she said, her eyes wide with embarrassment and a tinge of fear. It was her first time seeing the Regalia of Leviathan in person, and the tall woman could not be more different from the far friendlier Laura. "My son only loves the waters so. Please forgive his impatience."
In response, Aethalos reached out, her warm hand touching the woman's shoulder. Its metal counterpart drew out the gesture for the serpent of the seas, an invocation of peace.
"I forgive it," she whispered, reassuring the woman, while still striving to preserve the distant, authoritative image Votara wished for her to uphold. In truth, it was not so difficult, as Aethalos had always been cold, at least in the words she used. "If your son wishes to speak to me, let him come. I have time."
At this, the lad wrenched free from his mother's grasp, surging forth and peppering Aethalos with questions unending.
"Have you seen what's at the bottom? How do you hold your breath? When you fly, how can you do it without wings? Can you tie yourself into a knot? Why did Leviathan choose you?"
The last question struck a chord within Aethalos, and she held up a hand to initiate a pause.
"First, what is your name?" she asked, eyes studying the boy with an intimidating, but open gaze. "You must introduce yourself first, if you wish to ask for knowledge or blessings."
At this, the boy blushed, sputtering for a while, before proceeding to reply with newfound determination. From behind him, his mother looked on in a mix of worry and pride.
"I am Jacob Sanford," he said, his smile muted now, though his eyes still shone with hope. "I want to know more about the ocean! And you!"
"Well met, Jacob Sanford. I am Aethalos Vephariel," she replied, keeping a stoic expression, but granting the boy a small token of acknowledgment by casting her full focus upon him. "The bottom of the ocean is vast. I have seen a point or two... but the time it would take me to survey the whole floor of the ocean would be far better used in service of the people." Aethalos nodded at the Votaran guard, as if to say look, I'm hitting all the soundbites here, cut me some slack, though she returned her attentions back to Jacob before he could question her focus. "I hold my breath the same way you do. I do not know how Leviathan grants flight, but yes, I could tie myself into a knot in that form. Theoretically - but I will never do so. And finally... I know not Leviathan's will. I only serve as its instrument, the same way a cup holds water for those who thirst and wish to drink."
She offered the boy her ceremonial flask; there were others to replace it, and it would mean far more to him and his mother to have it than for her to keep it. The item was worth a small fortune, but surely, no one would stop the Regalia from making such a gesture.
"Here. A mouth that speaks too much and asks endless questions will eventually run dry. Consider the silence that comes when you drink of life, and there, in that silence, sometimes... the answers to your questions will also be found."
Aethalos then turned away to leave, ignoring the mother's shout of thanks and the boy's jubilant cheers. It filled her with warmth, to have them feel special, but she could not allow such attachments. She was to be a distant figure, one of impartial benevolence and strength, never to indulge in the excesses of joy nor sorrow. Instead, Aethalos embraced the constancy of impermanence; as she let her dissatisfaction wash over her, she found it replaced with a small contentment. At the very least, she had made someone's day, and with luck, this small incident would push the boy and his mother closer together, making a memory that would last the inevitable storms of life.
It was not difficult to notice when Ultima's famed Regalia arrived. He was just as much a household name as Laura amd Akamu, but the energy was different in the crowd around him. There was a palpable mix of fear, awe, desperation and hunger - the raw need of mortals to touch perfection pulled them towards him like rusty iron fillings towards an unwilling magnet. Aethalos watched Cassiel from a good distance, seeing in him not only everything that was wrong in Cetra... but also his lapse in form. Everywhere was a battlefield, even with guards around him, and already she could see his guard lowered, allowing a man to touch him. At his best, he would have held the man off with a charismatic gaze or a practiced phrase - not one moment did Aethalos believe that Cassiel had turned into the sort of person who would allow the faithful to place their lowly hands upon him.
Not wishing to arouse his attention outright on account of Votara's insistence towards an appearance of neutrality, still she wished to remind him that there were those that stood against Cetra -and Ultima's- oppressive, gilded yoke. She made her way towards the Dominant's altar, thinking of a way to leave a meaningful message, but an eye-catching crystal caught her attention. She looked to the woman who placed the curious offering. It was unlike everything else that was already placed in reverence of Ultima; in her past life, she would have arrested the woman on the spot for daring to darken the shrine's glory with her mismatched gift. Now, Aethalos was free to ask without the threat of manufactured rage; she still remembered how the needles beneath the armor would bite into her skin, pushing her towards anger or violence in the blink of an eye.
"Greetings," she called out, directly addressing the hooded stranger. "That is not what traditional gifts to Her look like. I am curious to know what your prayer is, if you are willing to share," asked Aethalos, eyes drifting from the gem to the woman's hand. "Forgive me, but... it appears that you are hoping to have your requests heard before everyone else's - it must be urgent."
There was a small measure of humor there, despite the serious expression on Aethalos' face. She maintained an open stance, not excluding others from taking part in the conversation. After all, today was the day to celebrate faith, and true faith required questioning - this much she understood after a lifetime of unswerving obedience.
Not wishing to arouse his attention outright on account of Votara's insistence towards an appearance of neutrality, still she wished to remind him that there were those that stood against Cetra -and Ultima's- oppressive, gilded yoke. She made her way towards the Dominant's altar, thinking of a way to leave a meaningful message, but an eye-catching crystal caught her attention. She looked to the woman who placed the curious offering. It was unlike everything else that was already placed in reverence of Ultima; in her past life, she would have arrested the woman on the spot for daring to darken the shrine's glory with her mismatched gift. Now, Aethalos was free to ask without the threat of manufactured rage; she still remembered how the needles beneath the armor would bite into her skin, pushing her towards anger or violence in the blink of an eye.
"Greetings," she called out, directly addressing the hooded stranger. "That is not what traditional gifts to Her look like. I am curious to know what your prayer is, if you are willing to share," asked Aethalos, eyes drifting from the gem to the woman's hand. "Forgive me, but... it appears that you are hoping to have your requests heard before everyone else's - it must be urgent."
There was a small measure of humor there, despite the serious expression on Aethalos' face. She maintained an open stance, not excluding others from taking part in the conversation. After all, today was the day to celebrate faith, and true faith required questioning - this much she understood after a lifetime of unswerving obedience.
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Looking for Three People to Embark on a Fantasy Adventure with!
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2 mos ago
Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
Interested in Muse A!
@Mirandae Yes, I do plan to, and I am also curious about the other nations' flags and symbols :)
I would be interested to see what flags and symbols the nations have!
Feel like basing Votara on Scientology stuff...
Feel like basing Votara on Scientology stuff...
A warm pink tongue gave Evalynn a lick; Larder quite liked her little kindnesses. The lively ratter knew to stay quiet though, as they entered the pub. Eldwic wished he had a bag to hide inside, too, as they all entered the rowdy pub. He did his best to look unbothered with the people's attentions, but it felt to him that every single one of them stared at the way he walked, the way he fidgeted, and most especially, the way he turned tomato-red from all the imagined attention. An unbearable amount of heat radiated from his cheeks, and he hadn't even drunk anything yet. It only worsened as they robbed a lovely pair of the best table in the room.
"Oh... we didn't have to go so fast," he whispered to Evalynn, his eyes narrowing in an apologetic manner as his gaze met the eyes of the disappointed woman. "I don't mind standing. Or sitting on the floor."
In the end, his friend's haste gave them quite a good view of everything that was happening within the tavern. The bard was singing a familiar song, one that Eldwic had liked. It was a melancholy tune about how a woman lost her lover because of a misunderstanding. Because of the bard's skill, he began to forget his restraint, and he nodded his head along to the lyrics, quietly mouthing the words. Feeling his stomach's emptiness, he waved down a serving boy to take his and Evalynn's order for the evening.
"Fish stew for me," he said, with a toothy, boyish grin. While he loved the meaty treats his family made, seafood wasn't as common, and he relished their strong, briny scent. "What're you having, Evy? I'll let you call the drinks." Once food and drink was taken care of, he turned his attentions back to the bard, who had taken a quick break.
"I wonder what his life's like. Drifting from town to town... I'm sure he's got lots of friends. Everyone loves good music." There was a wistful envy in his voice, as he spoke. "How did he learn to do all that? It must be nice. Being able to do as you please. Leave when you feel like it."
"Oh... we didn't have to go so fast," he whispered to Evalynn, his eyes narrowing in an apologetic manner as his gaze met the eyes of the disappointed woman. "I don't mind standing. Or sitting on the floor."
In the end, his friend's haste gave them quite a good view of everything that was happening within the tavern. The bard was singing a familiar song, one that Eldwic had liked. It was a melancholy tune about how a woman lost her lover because of a misunderstanding. Because of the bard's skill, he began to forget his restraint, and he nodded his head along to the lyrics, quietly mouthing the words. Feeling his stomach's emptiness, he waved down a serving boy to take his and Evalynn's order for the evening.
"Fish stew for me," he said, with a toothy, boyish grin. While he loved the meaty treats his family made, seafood wasn't as common, and he relished their strong, briny scent. "What're you having, Evy? I'll let you call the drinks." Once food and drink was taken care of, he turned his attentions back to the bard, who had taken a quick break.
"I wonder what his life's like. Drifting from town to town... I'm sure he's got lots of friends. Everyone loves good music." There was a wistful envy in his voice, as he spoke. "How did he learn to do all that? It must be nice. Being able to do as you please. Leave when you feel like it."
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