Rhaevnn Xeno

The Prophecy

I'm neutral in the whole matter of moving. Whatever keeps the story alive. :3

Playground of the Omniverse

Alrighty, so. Due to a lack of reliability of the Guild's site, we're gonna be moving back to RPND (which can be found here). See you guys there!

Playground of the Omniverse

Ah, ok.

As far as Pullo goes, nothing really has happened - just so introductions between characters (and some minor character interaction), namely Ganti (Fitz's wife), Kresnik, and Locien. As for the story, some things have happened, as some story arcs are now starting to pick up:

Kresnik and Locien (the elven bard) are going to go slay an entire covent of witches
Chad Master Funk got captured by a kitsune pair and was being interregated by them
Alec Drop Bass is battling for his soul with the Caster of Shadows (aka a reaper, of sorts)
A self-proclaimed god has made his appearance in the WildWood and is making his way towards a spiraling structure

Aaand that's about it.

Playground of the Omniverse

Alrighty - what's the last thing you remember?

Playground of the Omniverse

~IN THE BEGINNING~

The Old Boar’s Inn; Marketroom
Time: Third Hour and First Quarter of MiddleDay
Kresnike/Locien

Kresnik’s spell weaving would draw the attention of a few individuals around the pair, earning mixed reactions of fear and surprise. However, since the spell’s duration was minimal, the alarmed patrons would go about their business, although a second, wary glance would be cast at the dhampir.

Locien would receive the magical grocery list, nodding once, and patting his new companion on the shoulder before melting into the crowd. Little would Kresnik know that many of his materials were rare in some cases, and expensive in others: demand would be high and less available without connections. Regardless, with the departure of the elven bard, Kresnik’s search for the “black” market would prove to be barren, at least at first. This, more than likely, would be expected by the experienced hunter - after all, why would it be a secret market if everyone knew about it?

Trained eyes would point towards three possible candidates. The first, whom would be a small, hooded fellow would dart in between the legs of taller patrons and skirt around the every flailing appendages of all attempting to buy or sell something. It would occasionally cast its goggled eyes this way and that, as if trying to find someone. While it would be ever present, attempting to make conversation with the thing, let alone “catch” it would be like attempting to pin down a treasure goblin hyped on cocaine. How Kresnik approached the scurrying… thing would result in one or two consequences…

The second target would be much more subtle humanoid, though none the less shady; finding it, however, would be more of a challenge. In the middle of the market, Kresnik would discover, a pavilion shaped office building. While there would be a small, tight door, it would be padlocked with a series of rune inscribed locks; its windows would be heavily tinted and no signs of life would be inside. Regardless, this possible merchant would be leaning against said building, a death like smile plastered on its face as it flipped a medallion with a long thumb in a bored manner…

However, the third would be behind a battered (if not shattered) wooden counter, crying loudly out to masses with the voice that belonged to a used car salesman who now had a job as an auctioneer. Granted, this wasn’t the shadiest of characters, but his sales pitch seemed promising:

“MMMMMMSTEPRIGHTUP, MMSTEHPRIGHTUP, ONLT THE GREATEST, RAREST MATERIALS OF THEM ALL. FANCY AN ODD TRINKET OR MYSTERIOUS BOX?? THENSTEPRIGHTUPRIGHTUPRIGHTUP, THE OMNIVERSE CAN ONLY WAIT SO LONG BEFORE ITS GONEGONEGONE!”

++++

Old Boar’s Inn; Kuroda’s Quarters
Time: Third Hour and First Quarter of MiddleDay[/center]
[Chad/James]

The young kitsune smirked at Chad’s retort, but his questions caused the small sign of amusement to disappear, her face resuming its usual displeased frown. She looked as if she were to ask more questions, but before she could, the older kitsune interrupted, “His reasoning is sound, my daughter. Now stop harassing him - he obviously means well, regardless of his… unusual methods. Now—“ The golden prison melted away into warm bath water, the block transforming back into its normal state: the luxurious bathtub, “release my guest and please fetch some fresh herbs.” The young kitsune looked more displeased than usual, her eyes scowling. However, with a small bow at the waist, she took her leave.

“I am Kuroda.” The remaining fox myth continued, smoothing her kimono, “How may I be of service?”

++++

???
Time: ???[/center]
[Alec]

“Ah…”

The plague doctor stopped pacing, or so Alec would realize when there was lack of crunching mud. Although the demigod would not be able to see it, he would feel the cold gaze of death on his back. “There is no price, or nothing that I want from you, Alec. The only thing that you have to offer is your soul… But I see none in you.” A sound of twisted amusement tainted the end of the sentence, “However, you call yourself a god, yes?” A sudden kick to his back would send the injured man sprawling into the frozen mud, a vicious series of caws coming from the gathered carrion that mysteriously appeared in the trees. “Defeat me, and I will let you live. If you do not—“ The tip of the umbrella punctured the sodden ground with a sharp tack, “Then you are doomed.”

++++

i]The Wildwood; 10-5[/i]
Time: Third Hour and First Quarter of MiddleDay
[Nihil]

At first, Nihil’s metallic voice would be met with only the whisper of the gentle breeze that blew across the strange plain. However, if Nihil persisted, the witch’s eyes would meet his. The strangeness of her eyes would indeed startle even the self proclaimed god, but again no words would meet his. This silence would continue only until Nihil did one of two things:

Firstly, if Nihil decided that violence was the only response to her insolence, the witch would raise an outstretched hand in a protective stance, her palm attempting to block whatever he swung at her, a quiet, mysterious voice speaking words into existence, “Harmeth me not, mine l’rd, for I am one that can marry aid thou in thy needs and wishes.” If the weapon of choice continued to swing towards her, however, the witch’s body would do something extremely disturbing: it would split in half. All organs, flesh, and bone would tear with a terrible scream, the blow negated by thin air. If the weapon was retracted for a second attack, the dark woman’s body would retract itself, piecing itself back together as she prepared for his next attack…

However, if magic was used, the witch would designate under the magical energy, her body transformed into ash as it was blown away. “Violence will not be needed hither, mine l’rd.” The witch would be two arms’ lengths from behind the Malefane, her practically naked body in plain sight, her tattered cloak wisping over her body as if it were living itself. “If it pleases you, how may I serveth thou?”

But, if Nihil decided that the witch was not as interesting as he had thought and turned to leave, her voice would call out to him, “Power I hold, aye, but of consequence it dost not mattereth.” As smooth as a shadow, she would rise, her cloak swallowing her exposed skin. “Assist, in what manner, mine l’rd? What is thy wisheth and desire?”

++++

The Lows; Umbra District
Time: Third Hour of MiddleDay
[Nieet]

The small merchant will giggle with glee as he reeled in the attractive young woman. After all, who would’t? However, the giggling would painfully cease as Nieet’s slap fully connected to merchant’s face, sending him sprawling head over heels (twice) as she screamed her feelings on the matter. “At least I saved you, yes?” It whimpered, gingerly standing up and cowering Nieet’s gaze burned into its soul. This, of course, sent it toppling to its knees, groveling at her feet, “I’M SORRY, SO SO SO SORRY PLEASE DON’T HIM ME AGAIN!”

Sniveling as it looked up, the merchant would continue to speak, tripping over its tongue, “Y-you still w-want the hammer, y-yeah?” While the answer was probably yes, the small creature couldn’t help but ask. If Nieet made her obvious demand, the creature would hurriedly beckon her, “Yesyesyes! Quick, quick, this way!” Running as if his life depended on it, he would sprint a half block before ducking into a door. If Nieet bothered to look up before entering, a broad wooden plaque would plainly state “Old Boar’s Inn Marketroom.”

===

The Old Boar’s Inn; Marketroomt
Time: Third Hour and First Quarter of MiddleDay
[Nieet]

The place would be a madhouse. All manner of voice would be speaking, shouting, calling, accompanied with all varieties of hand signals and flailing of limb as merchants and customers squeezed into the impossibly large room. “This way, miss!” A shrill voice called to Nieet, though she would barely be able to hear it. The small creature scurried this way and that until it reached a pavilion shaped office building. While there would be a small, tight door, it would be padlocked with a series of rune inscribed locks; its windows would be heavily tinted and no signs of life would be inside. A small fist would tap on the door, knocking in strange series of knocks. The locks would suddenly spring open as the creature beckoned Nieet. Once inside, the door would close behind them automatically, the locks clicking back into place…

The inside of the small building would be a labyrinth of piles and piles of trinkets, weapons, books, armor, clothes… the things that Nieet would notice would be impossible to take in as the shrill voice called out into the magical warehouse, “Bossman! I got a customer for ye!” A grunt and a clatter of metal would suddenly sound off the left as a being creeped out of the packrat’s nest. “64! What have I told you about bringing someone in without an invitation?!” The goggled creature cowered, sniveling as it did, “Yeah, Bossman, I thought if I saw a customer, I should bring them in and she really wanted a—“
“I don’t care what you thought!! I only care what I WANT.
Sixty-four, now completely cowering flat on the floor, would whimper as a taloned foot punted it against the door, “NOW GET OUT AND FIND MORE CUSTOMERS!” The assistant needed no more encouragement, as it fled the scene with a slam of the door. The six eyed merchant would sigh audibly before turning his attention back to Nieet, “Now — since you’re here… What’cha looking to buy?”

Playground of the Omniverse

After that long, long delay: behold! A post! Enjoy guys. :3

Playground of the Omniverse

~IN THE BEGINNING~

The Old Boar's Inn; Bar
Time: Third Hour of MiddleDay
[Missile/Pullo/Ganti/Kresnik/Locien]

A dark cloud settled over Locien’s face as he nastily snatched his flask back, muttering as he did. If someone managed to catch it, the message would be quite dark indeed, “A lot better, seeing that you’ll be dead in an hour.”

Regardless, the next words would be much clearer, “What’s wrong with you? Stealing an alcoholic’s booze?!” The once cheerful manner Locien carried himself with had suddenly vanished, the limping bard sweeping up the last of his alcohol with an angry swig. Turning his attentions back to Missile, he curtly nodded, “Sorry love - I’ll need a raincheck, aye?” Grabbing Kresnik’s arm (but then thinking better of it with a noticeable release of his vice like grip), the elf verbally beckoned the hunter, “Right - enough fooling around. Supplies. Let’s get ‘em, mate.” Without another word, the bard strode off to the left, hastily making his way to a thick doorway, left of the inn's entrance...

====

Kresnike/Locien

The Old Boar’s Inn was a social hub, no two ways about it. In the Lows, there were famous establishments scattered to the four winds: Garcon’s, Madam’s Fashionable Boutique, The Hole. However, The Old Boar’s Inn was the centerpiece of it all, if not for its booze and entertainment, then for its marketplace. Kresnik would soon discover it if he followed his newest comrade through the darkened box of a room, the shady booths hiding individuals that would stop speaking if looked on for a second. Beyond the thick door would be a room impossibly high, holding all manner of life and trinket. Easily, it would resemble that of Wall Street, voices calling out madly as sales flew fast and thick. Fingers and hand gestures waved as verbal communication almost seemed impossible, the merchant’s sign language the only way to communicate more than a whisper’s length away.

The bard would gesture to Kresnik, placing his beer-reeking mouth close to the hunter’s ear. The shouting would be barely audible as the question wormed its way into the dhampir’s ear, “What supplies do you need, mate?!”

However, if Kresnik chose to wait for his meal, Locien would storm off without him. No doubt, he would be back, sooner or later, but what would happen next would be up to Kresnik…

====

[Missile/Pullo/Ganti

With the bard’s departure, the remaining party members would be left to the sounds of the Old Boar’s Inn. Kresnik’s display of guts and gore had been enough for a small break in the stream of customers, but now the establishment was back in full swing. “Davey” would be soon from the kitchen, holding a platter of food that would make mortal salivate - the chicken was truly cooked to the perfection, the mashed potatoes creamed just right and Bruce’s own dessert would be piping hot and begging to be eaten…

Meanwhile, Fitz’s wife would feel fine at first. However, something would be apparently wrong soon, a heavy weight building in her gut…

++++

Old Boar’s Inn; Kuroda’s Quarters
Time: Third Hour of MiddleDay[/center]
[Chad/James]

Chad’s rather blunt narrative changed the kitsune’s face for a moment. The anger slowly melted into the expression of a blank slate, a slight air of befuddlement painted across her eyebrows and mouth. However, once the futuristic man was finished speaking (and demanding for his clothing and equipment), another slap found itself planted on his stinging cheek. “You really don’t know how this works, do you Chad Master Funk?” Asked his less-than-amused captor. The more traditional kitsune sighed before turning back to James as the younger kitsune continued to speak, “I ask the questions around here, and I get to decide when you get your stuff back.” She paused again, giving his face an up-down look before asking another question, “And why should I believe you about this—“ Her hands waved in mock-fright, “all powerful evil god? It’s not the first time I heard something like this, and it isn’t the first time someone claimed the next doomsday.” She snorted, “And the explanation was told with far more excitement and detail.”

++++

???
Time: Second Hour and Third Quarter of MiddleDay[/center]
[Alec]

A chilling, single laugh was issued into his ear as the beak disappeared over his shoulder. The figure walked all the way around now, seeing that there was no struggle left in Alec, the umbrella firmly planting its tip in the crusted ground with a wintery crunch. The icy gaze looked down at the demigod as the voice continued to speak, “A wise assumption. However, I am not a cruel god.” The glinted gaze slowly met Alec’s, the dark coated god squatting to look into the dying man’s eyes. “Yes, I am the reaper. Yes, you are dying - this feeling—“ A froze leather glove jabbed at Alec’s cheek, “This cold, numb, peaceful feeling is what death feels like. Do you like it?” Another single laugh, colder than the first, “Do you want to give in, Alec Drop Bass? Or do you want an escape?”

++++

The Wildwood; 10-5
Time: Third Hour of Middle Day
[Nihil]

The self-proclaimed god would find little resistance in the air - his travels would be light and easy, soaring across the skies like jet, leaving a white trail behind him as he cut through the blue sky. As he traveled however, more detail would begin to appear, here and there. Among the fields, he would see groups of peoples (1 2 3 4) and creatures. Some very large and imposing, even monstrous. However, as the spiral became larger and larger, something would catch his eye.

The landscape of The Crossroads rarely changed (at least from an aerial point of view). While colors would differentiate, they would also be similar in shades. However, this something would catch any flier’s attention, for from a forest it emerged and immediately, the grasses of the field it stepped upon would be darkened, as if by some great shadow or evil. In the same direction it would be traveling as the Malefane. Whether or not Nihil would feel its pull, he would have to decide.

If he chose to plummet downward to inspect the new source of power, he would find the suns’ light quickly fading and darkness quickly absorbing any source of light. Even the air itself would feel thicker as he touched the ground. The field he would himself in would a grass most unusual. Its color would be varying yellows, oranges, reds and browns, its texture smooth. The touch, it would make musical notes, depending on its color. It would be firm, yet delicate, like that of an wind instrument of some kind. However, all of this might be lost upon the god as in the eye of the shadowy storm stood a woman sitting on her legs, her stockings disappearing under her thin thighs. Her tall hat would wisp like smoke, as her thick, ragged cloak cover her shoulders and her much of her form. There she knelt, as if waiting for Nihil’s words or actions…

But, if the call of the spire was too strong, Nihil would find himself soon at its resting place. In person, The Spire was impossibly large, winding dangerously, wickedly, into the sky. Its structure tall and dark, its very architecture spiny and dripping of power, protruded from the twisted forest that wrapped around its base. However, the god would himself in a predicament - not a few miles (at least this would be a quick estimate), the Malefane would find himself suddenly plummeting to the earth, all magic ripped from his being - apparently, this was a no fly zone. Below him would be nothing but tree limb and foliage to break his fall, but even then, the material of the wood would be sharp and unforgiving to the Malefane.

If he managed to somehow land safely on to the ground, the self proclaimed god would find himself in a swap, without natural sunlight and very, very wet.

++++

The Lows; Umbra District
Time: Third Hour of MiddleDay
[Nieet]

Reckless as ever, Nieet would find herself in a perilous predicament. Easily, she would be able to avoid being run over by small wagons and racing bi-wheeled vehicles (and somehow miraculously she would be avoid being stomped on by a great beast of burden), but just as the deal of a lifetime seemed within grasp, a monstrous eighteen wheeled truck came barreling towards the young woman…

However, Fate seemed to smile upon Nieet. She would feel something - something metallic, long, and pointy grab her torso, roughly yanking her from the path of the truck. The outrageous woman would feel the air behind her whoosh by as she plummeted forward, more than likely falling to her knees (perhaps even worse if she truly wasn't paying attention). The metallic object ended up being a claw (if she looked to see what was currently reeling her in), grasping both boobs in its vice-like grasp. A series of gleeful chuckles issued from the from the vendor. "Heheheh. Glad to see you made it."

The Prophecy

At your earliest convenience is fine by me as well.