Redward

Shadow Smiles

@SilverPaw Approved! I like her a lot!

Worlds Apart

Three considered him for a moment, before lightly shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you, too, Zino. Don't expect me to call you mister anything, though." It was then that her Mortal companion turned his attention to the Irriss Something, seeming enthralled. She watched him watch, indigo eyes focused on both the man and the realm she so desperately wished to explore. It wasn't long before he announced his readiness. Three smiled broadly, folding her arms. At least I'm not the only one.

She hopped forward, so close to the thin veil between Something and Nothing that it began to twitch and distort; creating ripples across the face of Irriss. Holes appeared, tiny and few, as her interference with its existence grew. Her heart thudded rapidly and she drew in a sharp breath, more excited than she had been in some time. "Zino," she said, turning to give him a look filled with some meaning, "moving through this barrier will be strange for you, but it'll only last a second. You might not even really remember it, once we're on the other side." She swayed back and forth, watching the melting edges of the membrane. "Just a warning, that's all." Where she had pointed, before, now she beckoned; urging him to come stand at her side.

You're lucky I'm not going to let you disperse, again. If my mistress hadn't told me... The thought was cut short, Three not wanting to linger on the distraction of Zino Bertran's presence for much longer. Ghost Girl had her purpose for him. Three didn't have a large part in that plan, and getting to Irriss was far more important to her than the purpose he would serve; or whatever 'truths' would be revealed to him, through his time in Irriss. The distortions grew wild and impatient, the tiny holes yawning and snapping closed; only to open and close again, some of them straining against their confines to drift in her direction.

Three's smile was wide, her face alight with glee; her eyes practically lambent in the smog of Nothing. Slowly, she reached forward; gently touching the extended distortion. It enveloped her fingers, tearing that part of her away, but they were not yet in the corporeal Something. Transference was precise, and Three was not as proficient as her owner. She was, however, competent enough to manage the process. I'm getting there, though. Going to Irriss is different than going to Earth or Nothing. Time to give it a try!

"Alright, now, all you have to do is relax," her eyes drifted to him, again, "take my hand, and we'll be on our way." She lifted an eyebrow, pondering for a moment. "If you have questions, now is probably a good time. I don't plan to hang around, once we're on the other side. I have a lot of things I want to do."

Zino Bertran took her small hand in his own. It was surprisingly soft for someone beyond the mortal coil, and the realization caught him off-guard. It would be almost humanizing, if Three were not otherwise so foreign. He still was unsure that any of these experiences were real. If this is truly another world and not some… Fever dream, he thought dryly, I had better follow her instructions.

“I have no idea what it is I'm here for…” He offered. Zino studied her face for a few moments, searching for some sort of reassurance. Despite appearing to take his death and resurrection in stride, he was afraid. His mind was reeling. Just moments before, he had breathed his last painful gasp. Now he was being thrown into another plane, another world--where he was unsure of the goals, the rules, and his place. He steeled himself.

There was no better way to find out what was going on than to go forward. Zino nodded and continued. “It can't be coincidence. Your 'mistress’ brought me here for a reason… If I were more informed,” he offered, “I would be of better use.”

"If you can figure that out, you should be able to hazard a guess at what you're supposed to do," Three continued staring at him, slowly extending her arm into the Something, "which would have something to do with a Mask," she was broken to the shoulder, despite only her elbow being immersed in Irriss. Three had come loose from herself, again, breaking away from the outline of her form. Purple and black mingled in spikes and swirls, drawing her attention for a moment. "What does one usually do with a Mask, Zino?" The disintegration continued, with Three stepping forward; giving a gentle tug on the Mortal's hand as she did.

She stared ahead, pressing her face against the breaking barrier. Sliding through was easy, and ensuring that the both of them kept their forms was simple enough. Three's heart fell, a little. Maybe Irriss is no different? Nothing became Something, from the unchanging static to a world that screamed with life. Three took a moment to adjust, still partially lingering in the temporary space between states of being. Her outline solidified, fingers first. Then how she envisioned herself manifested. Now for him. She concentrated similarly on Zino Bertran and everything she knew of his existence. I held it in my hands as threads and put it back together, just like she did. That was enough to set the process into motion and complete it, all at once. Zino was, once again, standing before her.

It was probably instant for him. Wonder if Mortals see that not-place when they pass through it as a Corporeal Entity?

Zino let go of her hand. He steadied himself, his feet adjusting the sensation of ground beneath his feet, his eyes adjusting to the light of Something. His stomach lurched in his gut. Strange, he thought to himself, looking down at the mask. He did not put it on, in spite of her taunting hints, in spite of his own curiosity.

It was obvious there was a connection between the documents, the bizarre mask, and the realm of Irriss. Zino Bertran ran his thumb across the soot-stained white surface. His mind raced as he muttered to himself. “Remains found in the incinerator at the new facility belonging to…” The man gave a macabre smile. “Data expunged.” His fist tightened around the porcelain. “Object of interest missing. Homicide, breaking and entering, destruction of property, Grand theft…” he sighed. “Suspect unknown.”

He was glad to be beyond the swirling, gnawing abyss. Still, knowledge chewed on the back of his mind, begging to be recalled. Zino glanced around, almost surprised that the strange Three psychopompos had lingered. He saw no others. “I thought you said there would be mortals?” In the distance beyond the tree line was a billowy puff of white smoke: a clear sign of civilization. He shuddered. “Ah. I assume it lies just past this outcrop…”

Zino Bertran studied her again, watching her hands, considering the way her slim, pale fingers had teased at corporeality and stitched him together again. Already, the memory was fading. He lifted his ice grey eyes to meet her own. “Miss Clothos,” he jested dryly. “I can assume that this mask is of great power…” He glanced at it. “Or at least of great importance. You won't tell me what happens if it's worn?” Zino glanced warily at the column of smoke. “Or why your mistress would want to impart this… Gift... to me?”

He couldn't bite back his skepticism any longer. It was testing the limits of his ability to trust. He had been killed for this mask. It was no coincidence he had ended up here. Zino’s eyes flicked over her again, narrowing. Did her mistress order me to be killed? What am I doing?! He closed his eyes. Why me?

"There are. Either in the town," Three's gaze fell on the veil hiding Silverbrook, affirming the man's conjecture, "or down the path. I'm dropping you here because, well, it's up to you." Three produced her yo-yo with unnatural fluidity, letting it roll, "It's a crossroad. Classic choice, right?" It spun against the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust, "Same with the Semblance." Her hand closed around it, as it returned. An inevitable result. Silverbrook was technically under the influence of Magician, the caretaker of those Mortal souls; until her mistress returned.

That leaves me free to do what I want. She took in a slow breath. So why should it bother me that they're in his hands? Part of her felt the choice was a bad one, even though she knew little of Magician.

"Putting it on will be an experience. To survive in a world like Irriss," Three took on a serious demeanor, despite how poorly it suited her, "You need to be willing to make choices that have irrevocable consequences. Even if you're not aware of how far they extend." Of course, the vagaries had to be presented. Facts as phantasms. The idea that this matters. Again the yo-yo ran its course, returning in half an instant. "Silverbrook, or the others? With or without donning your Semblance?" She didn't smile, but Three did shift her eyes, "If you want answers, I suggest seeking out Magician. He's another of my mistress' assistants. Either will get you there."

Once more, the yo-yo came and went. White blurring and purple stretching as it made its mad rotations. "I can tell you that the Semblance is pretty handy, from what I've seen." She wouldn't go out of her way to make a strong case for wearing it. That was, after all, not her job. "As to why my mistress decided to gift one to you," Three turned on her heels, snatching her toy up gently and putting it back into her pocket; along with her hands, "I couldn't say. I don't know what she sees in any of you." The path stretched on, for a ways, unbroken and unoccupied. "I'm going to leave, soon." Her eyes drifted to Zino, their gazes locking for a moment. She saw the questions, still unasked and the roiling uncertainty that came with death and rebirth. The suspicion. Three gave him a smile, half-cocked and distantly amused.

"So, unless you've got something really pressing in mind, this is goodbye."

Zino simply dipped his head--either as a nod of recognition or as a small bow of gratitude. “I'll make my way to the Magician.” A pause. “Goodbye, Miss Three.”

[+]

In collaboration with @Mammon!

Free Saga: What Once Was

Stumbling was not something that often happened to a girl so nimble as Idani Umbele, especially not with such force. That's uncanny, came the thought, as soon as her feet were out from under her, mercurial as the action its self. There had been a force at her back, otherworldly and foreign. She had felt magic, many times; shops in Drasil, around the Sand-Eater campfires, dancing with the Empty-Handed Gypsies. This was unlike any of those things.

She landed hard on her side, having turned with the impact, produced a loud grunt and curled in on herself. Her left arm was caught under her, stretched awkwardly on the dirt; but it was unbroken. She dug for purchase and scrambled to her feet; casting a narrow glare along the path behind her. Idani's mind raced, though nothing moved among the trees. But what was it? My body feels fine. Concussive explosion? Whatever it had been, it was intent on hiding itself. Her fingers slid to a hilt of a dagger hidden in her one sleeve. The forest remained much the same. Sun dappled and full of birds.

An assassin? She did not draw her blade, but stared ahead, wondering, Out here? Oakheim wasn't far ahead, that much she was aware of; a small hamlet renowned for the quality of it's Forgehert Smithery. Idani slid her left leg back, bringing her arms up; and kept her fingers lingering near the blade. The barest moment passed before a small hum pierced the air, breaking her guard. Then came another rush of the pressing force. Idani saw it, this time; a writhing crescent that distorted the air hurtling towards her. Pivoting, she took a long hop away. What was its source? None of the branches were broken and it was in the middle of the path. Again came the force. More clearly.

Now! For a long time Idani had been used to running and twisting and avoiding. Even if I were hit, it didn't do much but knock me down. Still, she knew that falling closer to the energy's source could be dangerous. Like the time in Undhand's Tomb. Despite the foreign feel, she was determined. In her rapid approach, she saw it; something that hadn't been moments before. Yet, there it was; a book. Flinging bizarre projectiles at her.

Idani Umbele did exactly what her instincts demanded. Her momentum was put into the jump, flinging her toward the prize she was going claim. Safe, she told herself as she slid behind a thick tree. The book continued firing as she crouched low, taking her fingers away from the hilt of her hidden dagger. Branches rattled and leaves fell, but the tree remained standing; giving naught to the paltry onslaught. Now, what to do? Naturally, she wanted the book. It obviously held some kind of power. Unless a crazy Magi threw their journal into the forest. It's too far to knock askew with a branch, unless I get a particularly large one. I doubt that would work well.

Adjusting her hood, Idani rose from her crouch and darted to the next tree. She proceeded to do this three times, then paused. The noise stopped after she had passed the second. By her judgment, she was behind the book. Did that actually work? Idani skirted around, peering out slightly.

Indeed, it was laying there. For a moment, tension; Idani fully prepared to retreat. Nothing happened. No strange surge. She tested the tentative peace. Within four seconds she was crouching near the book, her dagger produced and halfway wedged under the grimoire's cover. It was bound in worn black leather, bearing faint letters near the bottom. Not any language I'm aware of. Of course, she only spoke Drasilian and Volanci; with enough Seresish to make slow conversation. Slowly, she lifted it; fully expecting a trap of some sort.

Nothing happened. Part of her was disappointed, the other half was still wary. With the book splayed open, Idani tested a page. Seems fine, now. Strange. Her fingers touched the edge of the first, eyes lingering over neatly scrawled characters that she could almost say were Runes. The ink seems rather faded. Lifting it was still a cautious motion, but the vagrant girl had relaxed. Whatever the problem had been, it seemed to have become tame.

A smile touched on her face as the book fell into her pouch. She didn't know what it was for, or how important it was; but Idani knew that it was magic, and that it was probably worth something. Better to be rid of it, quickly, then.

As she turned toward Oakheim, she felt a small chill at the nape of her neck.

"What?" She said to something that could have been a whisper on the breeze. "Are you talking to me? I'm not quite sure I know what it is you're saying." Idani's eyes slid shut, her words turning to a quiet mutter. "No, I don't think so. I haven't seen anything like that in some time." While she was not aware of it, she was laying down, sliding her satchel under head head. "I really should be going..."

Within her next breath, she was asleep.

Shadow Smiles

@hagroden "Hat" is approved, you can move him on over to the Character Tab.

Free Saga: What Once Was

Ruby

Name: 'Ruby Veilknight'

Age: Presumed to be in her early twenties.

Appearance:

[+]

Personality: Quiet, reserved and often of serious disposition, Ruby Veilknight is driven primarily by the love she holds for her station; and the kinship shared between herself and Princess Iyera Atten. Duty-bound by her various oaths to the realm and honor-honed by a staunch sense of morality, Ruby often takes a position of incredible resolve when it comes to things she considers black-and-white. There exists little selfishness within her, but it is not so bountiful as to override a realistic view of the world around her.

She is considerably eloquent, and has a surprisingly soft view of the world; paired with the gentle timbre of her voice. Ruby, while not a Magi, gives praise to Taifia and Eldra; but respects each of the Elemental Guardians.

Occupation: Veil Knight

Idani

Name: Idani Umbele

Age: Seventeen.

Appearance:

[+]

Personality: Idani is a scoundrel, having made her way across a fair portion of Essia on her wits and guile alone. She bears a somewhat sunny demeanor, even if it can be a veil for her true emotions. While she doesn't generally care for the plights and problems of others, being a pragmatist at her core, there can be rare moments of altruism in the strange girl. Despite her vagrant lifestyle she is surprisingly well-spoken and intelligent, hinting at an upbringing that starkly contrasts her current situation.

She isn't unkind, but Idani is out for herself; foremost. She is a thief and has no qualms about taking what she needs. Idani enjoys her travels, but rarely speaks true of her goal or destination; usually claiming to be a pilgrim who gives praise to Ranth. While she tries her best to hide it, Idani has something of a Drasilian accent; which marks her as an outsider in Volance.

Occupation: Traveler and thief.

Free Saga: What Once Was

Introduction

Lyath was known for wearing an orange cloak and her surprisingly calm demeanor; both of these things a rarity among the Flametongue. So when her visage filled the door flung open during King Atten's speech, Ruby could do naught but gape. As with many others who filled the court, that day, she had not expected the presence of one of the more renowned Council Magi. Beside her, Princess Iyera Atten stiffened; color draining from her face.

"She's bleeding, Ruby," came the gentle whisper and a slight tug on her loose sleeve, "something is wrong." The Veil Knight, curious before, cursed silently at herself for allowing surprise to override reason. Of course something was wrong. The Magi of the Ascendant Council of Magi rarely left The Demense without proper reason, or dire news to deliver. All around the room came similar whispers, barely audible over the advance of eight Royal Guard. Ruby began to step forward, as well, but the Princess once again subtly tugged at her sleeve.

Stay was the unspoken command. One she would not deny. While her eyes were on Iyera, the room had fallen silent; tension becoming nearly palpable. Lyath stood, albeit favoring her right leg, with a hand clamped firmly over an area just beneath her breast. Blood poured between her gloved fingers and left crimson streaks on the tattered cloak she wore; dripping, slowly, onto the polished marble of the Great Keep's throne-room. Still, Ruby let her hand fall to the hilt of her sword.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Roared Kinnan Loroughe, captain of the Royal Guard, from behind the tip of a spear. The Ascendant Magi looked at them from beneath the ragged expanse of her hood, gray eyes boring into the assemblage of armor and blades with a clear dispassion. Her lips turned downward, and her free hand flickered forward. From each digit emerged a small orb of flame, spurring the Guards into action.

They were far too slow, however. Each conflagration expanded as it streaked forward, striking two of the Guard directly. Those men had no time to scream, engulfed and consumed as they were; but those nearby, those that suffered the concussive force of the flame's violent dispersal, they had time to wail at length. It lingered in Ruby's ears, and the stench washed over the crowd immediately.

The armored forms were cast aside with ease, those that survived, at least, the Ascendant Magi taking slow steps forward; her gaze darting around the room for potential obstacles. They seemed to linger, for a moment, near Ruby and Iyera. Cold dread washed through the Veil Knight, and despite her earlier inclination to move forward; she found herself rooted to the spot. Something in the smoky depths of the Flametongue's eyes bespoke a muted disdain for what she was doing. Still, whatever Ruby thought she saw in that brief moment mattered little.

The King had taken a step back, in the moment it had taken for chaos to erupt. His mouth quivered, and his hand shook as he raised it to the Magi. As he parted his lips, the Flametongue moved forward; propelled by gouts of flame that sprang from her heels. Sliding to a smooth stop before the King, a man who was easily a head taller than herself, she leaned forward and spoke.

Ruby did not catch what was said, given the emergence of more orbs of flame. These did not strike out at any armored forms, or anyone at all. They took up each direction around Lyath and then dispersed throughout the room in a mad dash. Some swirled around each other, entwined for a moment before reaching their place around the room. One hovered above Iyera; pulsating as it settled into place. Despite herself, Ruby averted her eyes, the intensity of the flame and its flaring entirely overbearing.

With the turn, she saw, barely, what was transpiring between King and the Magi. With a fluid motion the Flametongue snatched the necklace from around the King's neck. And, with a whisper, set him alight from within. The Veil Knight did not know the intricacies of magic, but the unnatural light that seemed to pour from the King's silent mouth and wide eyes seemed to bespeak immesurable suffering. His skin cracked and blackened, smoke rolling through the fissures, hair catching aflame; all this in the instant before he exploded.

Cooked bits of the Volanci King went sailing, while the rest had turned to a soot-stain on the kingdom's golden throne. Lyath and lifted her hand, laborious breathing and a steady stream of blood filling the silence where another might have given a speech. As she closed it, carnage enveloped the throne-room. Ruby was flung sideways, the bright and bleary world turning on its self as she tumbled through the air; striking hard against a pillar before sliding down gracelessly. Feeling left her limbs, but her eyes were still opened; and seeking the Princess.

No...no...no Came the echoing thought. Fear made it race and dance, twisting its self into a knot that would not leave her mind. Stand, Veil Knight, stand damn you!

Through the madness, however, she could see little but the silhouettes of noblemen and knights fleeing or cowering. Strangely, though, in the midst of it all she could still spy the Magi. Her slow trudge toward the door unmistakable...Ruby's budding hatred searing her form into the Veil Knight's mind. While she did not entirely recognize what had happened, the Flametongue had set the pulsating orbs to explode; another explosion created at her position. Right on top of Princess Iyera.

Iyera... Ruby struggled against numbness and moved her hands behind her, seeking awkward purchase against the pillar. With a groan, she pushed her back to it and used the strange position to rise with what leverage she could manage. Though her knees began buckling above a crouching position, she leaned heavily against the pillar to steady the shaking that coursed through her. With the view she had gained, Ruby should have been able to find Iyera among the crowd. Her eyes watered, as she stared on; greeted only by familiar faces twisted in horror, shards of glass and scorched piles, burned banners and streaks of soot left by the Flametongue.

There is no ash, where she stood...no black stain. Nor any marks at the epicenter, I need to stall my tears. Hope is not yet lost.

Ruby skirted the pillar uneasily, her legs begging clumsily for respite. As she managed it, Lyath fell. A thud echoed through the suddenly silent throne-room, the Magi spasming for a bare moment. Plumes of smoke drifted from her open mouth and the gash at her ribs, now revealed to be long and jagged. Ruby watched as the Flametongue's gray eyes lost what little luster they had possessed. The nobles seemed to understand as well. They were watching an assassin twitch out her last moments.

The Veil Knight straightened herself as best she could. Many were already fleeing the room, leaving a cluster of castle guard standing benumbed at the sight before them. Ruby understood the feeling that began to carve its nuance into their whitening visages. Shouts and murmurs mingled in full, and she heard many mixed messages; though they were only fleeting pieces she managed to collect.

Kinnan, calling out for what remains of his men. Lord Scorvese, lamenting his son. The guards, trying to ascertain what happened. More and more, though they became less and less. She felt sick, her head lolling for a moment. Her reflection in the floor stared back at her, contorting for a moment and growing closer and farther in disjointed waves.

A sigh heaved its self from her involuntarily, bated breath escaping in a moment of collapse. She slid down, her legs out before her. Disorientation had sunk its claws deep, in the scant moments since Volance suffered the slaying of its King.

Rundown

The Pseudo-God (seems to fit better than Demi-God, given that it is not of human ilk) Baal Teslam, once sealed away by the Council of Magi, has broken free of his imprisonment through unknown means. While this is a relatively unknown event, at the start of our story, it will come to be rather important to the fate of Essia (the world).

Elsewhere, though, a king (King Atten, of Volance) is slain by a member of the Council of Magi; in full view of the court. Lyath the Flametongue was killed, but the king's amulet and the princess have gone missing.

In the small hamlet of Oakheim, aspirant Golem-Crafters discover a strange bundle hidden in the trunk of a tree; due to a mishap with their crafting. Inside the Rune-Bound bundle there is a mechanical girl with her forehead open, and clutched in her hand a small red stone. During their adventures, a lone girl traveling to Volance discovers a book containing lost Void Magic; opening doors long thought shut to all but the Council.

Elemental Guardians

Itos

A mercurial ophidian deity with influence over the spheres of fire and passion. Itos appears when invoked by Ascendancy Magi that it deems of sufficient worth. The fiery serpent is known for its pride and arrogance, but as well for the skill of its Servient Magi. Those connected to Itos are known as Flametongue and are often imbued with tremendous destructive capabilities. What gifts Itos bestows often depend on the perceived worth of his Magi; they usually involve conflagrations, explosions or infernos.

Izia

Volatile in her gentle nature, the ever placid, ever rapid Izia appears in many forms. Often curious of the affairs of mortals, Izia is known to hold dominion over secrets and the aquatic elemental sphere. Most Magi in her sway are known as Scryer. Sacrifices made to her are often simple and allow the Servient Scryer a unique gift, as well as allowing for control of Izia's element. These gifts are often in the ways of mending/curing, divining the future or scrying distant places.

Ranth

Silent bones of the Earth, Ranth does not appear when invoked; but is believed to listen to any invocation. The sacrifices required to appease Ranth are often complex, requiring somatic components and mixing herbs and roots from the earth; but are enduring in their effects. Ranth is known to impart strength to his Nomad Magi through the mixtures and salves produced through these rituals; though control of flora and terra comes naturally to them. There are rumors that Ranth has appeared, as a blind Nomad Magi, in the southlands of Essia, seeking to cure a plague there.

Taifia

Gentle in her aimless ambling, tempestuous in her ceasless racing; Taifia is much the sister-soul of older Izia. The two are known to be of similar temperment and connected in elemental parallels, though Taifia is known to take only one form when invoked; a maiden near-translucent wreathed in gray-blue, cowled and of bright eyes. She is known to shift humors in an instant; changing from giddy to sorrowful or wrathful with little cause. Her Magi are known to be Striders, which bear a close kinship with the Nomad Magi; due to their tendencies to roam Essia. The power she imparts is to give her Striders freedom; allowing them to run on the wind, conjure twisters or elevate themselves/others.

Eldra

{Will flesh out later. All about some indifferent justice, but with a hatred for those with wicked intent. Magi are referred to as Lambent.}

Viaak

{Will flesh out later. Basic idea is it is a creature of indulgence, prone to inciting chaos to fulfill its own desires. Mastery over the Umbral elemental sphere allows for control of shadows, imparting of nightmares, curses. Viaak is interested in exchanges. The sacrifices to it vary, depending on the strength of its selected Magi. Servient Magi are known as Shadeweaver.}

Character Sheet Template

Name:

Age:

Appearance:

Personality(Optional):

Occupation:

History (Optional):

This is the OOC section for Free Saga: What Once Was a 1x1 RP for myself and @jdh97. We'll be posting some chatter, here, as well as compiling pertinent information as it arises.

Shadow Smiles

I moved the Q&A section from the Interest Check over; adding it to the first post. Will be looking for some other pertinent information to add.

Eventually I am planning, with some help, to categorize Types of Miasma Infected and provide them in a similar location!

EDIT: I just realized that the year has not been mentioned in this OOC. While it was directly stated in the Interest Check. I added a line, about it, in the first post.

As things stand now it is June 7th, 2042. There will be a time-stamp in the introductory post, to further cement this.

Shadow Smiles

@SilverPaw, @jdh97, @The Narrator, @ScreenAcne,@Viatos.

Pardon the double post, but I have decided to make a Discord Server for Shadow Smiles. If this idea entices you, please go ahead and join up!

Shadow Smiles

@jdh97 Approved! You can move Isaac to the Character Tab!

I also completed Eddie's Character Sheet!

Shadow Smiles

@ScreenAcne and @The Narrator, you may move your Characters to the Character Tab!

I will be resuming work on Eddie, momentarily. I still have a bit of work to do on his particular abilities.

Thank you, everyone, for your patience and continued interest!

Also, we are still accepting a new Player or two!