The Savant

Post deletion request

Can someone please remove this post from the character tab? roleplayerguild.com/posts/5469793 . It did not go through the steps of being processed and accepted like everyone else in the RP. It is not allowed to be there. The owner did not have permission to post it there and has not removed it upon my request.

I would really appreciate it. Thank you!

The Nameless City [Long-term, sandbox, flexible]

Is this still open? It sounds very interesting!

@Zariah

This role-play is still open and will always accept newcomers as long as it stands. We would love to have you!

~ Welcome to Sanctuary ~

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The auction ended up being quite a crazy time and Talie ended up winning the date with him —- a date only for charity. It wasn’t an actual date. She didn’t think it was, did she? Thinking about that, Thomas was not completely sure where Talie stood in those thoughts. It wasn’t an actual date. Just a fun time. It would be great finally hanging out with the woman outside of work. Only visiting her during lunch hours was probably strange. He wondered what her coworker Manny thought about that. Probably thought he was weird.

Sighing as he stepped down from the stage and he was going to thank her, but he got nervous. Jolts of nervous anxiety ran through his body and the negativity he has been stormed by all night seemed to cause him to implode on himself. “It shouldn't be a problem if aah thank her later, right?” Whispering to himself as he slipped into the crowd so he could try to make his way home. He was done with the festival. None of his friends tried to make plans. The only person to make plans ended up kissing him and bidding seven-hundred dollars on him for charity and he really didn’t know how to feel about that. It was a strange feeling. It made him feel warm and cold at the same time. Kind of shaky. Somewhat forcing a smile to his lips as well. Mixed emotions one could say but he couldn’t stay at the festival anymore. There wasn’t anything here for him, was there?

Thomas shook those thoughts away and he began to slowly make his way through the crowd, getting around people, and somewhat getting stopped by the occasional passersby that wanted to ask about the fourth of July — fireworks. When those were going to be. Where. How much money did they get for them this year? What type of show? Was music going to be synced with it? A whole bunch of questions from a whole bunch of people. The sheriff had an answer for each one of them.

Being able to break away from the crowd and the main parts of the stage, Tommy found himself on the outskirts of the date auction and listened to how others were beginning to bid on the next poor soul. I’m never doing that again… Was a thought that passed while he began to make his way through the rest of the festival. Games were still going on. Venders were still calling people to the stalls to get buyers. The man felt like he was in a twilight zone in a sense.

Almost a decade…

A decade ago was the last time the friend group ran around the festival like children. Playing games. Doing things their parents would have been angry about. Being of the age where the parents didn’t know if they should scold you, ground you, or do nothing about it. You were going to leave in a couple months for college or wherever you thought would be best for you. Practically an adult. Memories passed by his eyes while he looked over at certain games or physical locations. Remembering how Levi and him at fifteen somehow got a bag of weed from a party two weeks before the October bash. A dance the high school held. They tried it out.

The stinging in his lungs could be felt and he only tried it once and that was almost fifteen to twenty years ago. It dried his mouth and he went into a coughing fit. He couldn’t stop. Levi tried to give him a pop from the vending machine by the grocery store but it was only eating the quarters and nothing was coming out while his friend was dying by the chipped lamppost. Levi finally realized that most of the selection was out and he just had to press an unpopular flavor of pop that neither of them really cared for but he ended up getting three because of how many quarters he put in.

After chugging one and sipping another, Levi even drank the one. They had a laugh about it. Tommy told Levi that he was never trying that again and Levi was going to have to find someone else to smoke with him. He thought his friend understood with the smile that came back at him. Both of them were smiling like idiots. It was probably because of the small high that hit their systems.

That night, Tommy found himself in a rough position with his father. The man had a heavy hand and a sharper belt when his eldest son came home smelling like the devils plant was what he called it. That night, he rode his bike about two hours to the Serrano’s homestead and slept in their barn. He was too embarrassed to even ask Javier to stay in the house and didn’t want the man worrying or anything. Remembering how a young Estella found him broken and bruised in the morning. She was so worried. He remembered how her big doe eyes filled with worry, concern, care, and she instantly tried helping him in any way she could.

He told her not to tell anyone but being the good girl she was. She told her dad, most likely not on purpose, when she went into the house to get him something. Instead of meeting Estella at the barn door, Javier opened it up and Tommy felt fear rise in him. He didn’t know why he was scared or maybe terrified but he was. He felt like he was going to get in trouble by the man but he was brought inside the house instead and a few questions were asked. It was nothing. That was the most common answer he would give and he knew Javier knew he was lying. He was glad that the older man didn’t push too much.

Sighing at the memory, Tommy continued to walk through the festival and other memories were coming to light. Him and Levi did almost everything together and he did miss that.

---

Location Somewhere at the festival
Mentions @LovelyComplex (memory of Estella and Javier) @The Muse (memory of Levi)

The Nameless City

Working on a character!

Question though, would a Regia Guard player-character know much Iknomancy considering they wouldn't have studied at the Academy, due to them being two different career paths? You've described Ikonomancy as being pretty commonly used by all kinds of folks in the city, so I'm imagining they could at least have picked up some pretty frequently used symbols if not anything advanced like a trainee is learning to use

@musicway

Everyone starts out in the Wardana Academy in the third if they are Wardana, apprentices, or Regia Guard. If individuals want to legally practice ikonomancy, they have to do it under the eyes of the government, the Regia. That doesn't mean people don't practice it outside of those boundaries but the Wardana and Redia Guard work to stop that.

The Nameless City

🅔🅡🅖🅔🅝

&

🅚🅞🅒🅐

Pre-start RP Collab
Koca & Ergen
Current Koca
A memory of past Koca and Ergen
Koca's perspective

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Green eyes peered back at him and he reached out, tips of his fingers disturbing the image, and ripples ruined the face that was in his vision. The face of his brother turned to his face. Those eyes. The eyes they share. A gentle placement of his hand onto his cheek as the reflection matched the actions. “Why do I have to have your eyes?” Sometimes it felt like he could talk to him but he knew it was just a reflection. Deep down he felt like Ergen could hear him. His meek voice began to cloud with sniffling. It has been roughly six years since his brother was stamped a traitor and forever exiled, the Regia Guard wanted to hold the eldest child of the Ilkin family for his betrayal and force him into the Trials.

Ever since that day, many words have crossed the Ilkin family's path. Many words. Comments from his own family pierce the young boy's heart. Heavily. He never understood how to take any of them. Anything that had to do with his older brother was a distant memory but it felt so close and dear. Truly the boy cherished the fading memories that he had of his eldest brother.

Traitors!

Are your other sons going to be failures?

He looks a lot like him.

You have your brother’s eyes, Koca.

You have his face.

Koca’s expression faltered at the fountain and salty liquid began to stain his cheeks. I hate that I miss you so much, ” It wasn’t fair! None of this was fair. Why did he do that to himself? Why did he do that to us? Why did he do that to me? Smearing the clear liquid upon his cheeks, reddening them, and dampening his sleeves. It was upsetting. Every time he looked at his reflection, he was reminded of Ergen. Every time he did something… someone had to comment on how much he was like his older brother. How much he was like him. It was weird to have such a connection with a total stranger.

It was a strange feeling of euphoria and pure sorrow on the last memory he had of Ergen…

A smaller child looked up at his brother with wide green doe eyes and an expression that showed how enthusiastic he was. Ergen was home. “Up! Up! Please up!” Koca was bouncing at the door before it was even opened, and he could remember the light laugh that left his older brother’s lips. The smile crept around the door as it allowed light into the home. Pure bliss. “You do have to let me into the home if you want that,” Ergen nudged the door a little to show that he couldn’t fit through the opening without causing Koca to get pushed over.

The small child hopped over to another tile of the front entrance and the door opened wide. Within seconds, his feet left the ground, and he was swooped up with a padded — thump! —- to follow the action of his brother, who dropped his Academy bag by the entrance. Being held in the arms of someone so strong, Koca wrapped his arms around his brother as best he could. His little hands gripped at the shoulders of that white Wardana shirt. A groan could be heard when Koca put more pressure on his brother’s left shoulder, without missing a beat,

“Are you hurt?”

“Were you waiting here all day for me?”

Both of them began to chuckle with very similar smiles. “Don’t mind me. It’s nothing.” Ergen reassured his little brother with a warm smile and caring eyes. Koca responded by nodding his head — letting his brother go about his secretiveness and confirming that he has been waiting by the door all day.

“Is that a yes to waiting?” Ergen raised a single brow with a playfulness that crossed his smile and eyes. Such an expressive man. It was hard for him to hide his emotions with such control over his facial expressions yet there was always a blank mystery to the rest of his face.

Koca shifted in his brother's arms as he walked into the other part of the house, “Are you going to teach me another one? An i-i-k-kon.” They were plopped on the couch, and Koca found himself lying in his brother's arms with a yelp of fear but the quick realization that he was perfectly safe and fine. No harm. Ergen stretched out onto the couch while kicking his boots off. “I’m exhausted right now. Can I later?” Ergen whined while letting his head flop to the right side onto a throw pillow off the couch. Shooting up and sitting on his brother's lower chest and upper stomach, Koca’s brows furrowed, “You promised!” The little one protested with such a defeated tone. He promised. He would when he got home.

Ergen sighed with the realization that his brother caught him on his words, “Go get my bag,” Gesturing to what he left by the door and before he even finished his words, weightless, Koca was halfway to the canvas bag by the front door.

“Ergen, when did you get home?” A beautiful woman with amber eyes entered the room. She was middle-aged and had smile-enforced wrinkles. Showing a life of happiness while she crossed her arms, her shoulders accompanied by a salmon pink shawl, and Ergen sat up on the couch. “ Just a minute ago or two…” Groaning from the aches of his body. He trained a lot today. Trained a lot of people too. It took a toll on anyone, even the best, even him.

“You better not be teaching Koca anything new. He got in trouble last week because of you —” A sigh was let out with a long blink of her eyes, “— I’ll make you some tea. It should help.” Glancing over her shoulder, a mother always knows. She knew what they were up to. Koca was halfway into his brother's bag, digging for all the things he needed to learn something new.

A mischievous grin appeared on Ergen’s face, “I promise, I won’t mother,” That was an instant lie and they both knew it as he forced his weight onto the back of the couch and allowed his one arm to hang limply while watching the older woman disappear around the corner and hearing from down the hall. “Keep your promises, Erie. He’s already in your bag,” Her voice was stern but full of love and understanding. A chuckle could be heard from her eldest son.

Waving his hand from Koca to come to him, “ Come before she changes her mind,” A loud whisper could be heard only between them as Koca pulled the items out of the bag. This caused a few items to fall out and some papers to lightly scatter in the air on the tile floor before finding temporary destinations. Koca ran up to the back of the couch, and Ergen hoisted him up. Getting them into a position where he scooted up to the arm of the couch and found himself in that v-crook between the arm and the back. Koca was on his lap already opening the book with the many ikons his brother had created.

On the very first page, only this could be read. єгﻮєภ'ร ן๏ยгภคɭ ๏Ŧ เк๏ภร. “You cannot open that unless you tell me what that says. Do you remember?” Ergen’s chin rested on his little brother’s head as they both looked into the leather-bound journal.

Koca’s brows furrowed in thought. He knew it was his brother’s language to protect the ikons from others. Only Ergen truly knew what was in the journal and he somewhat knew the code that his brother created. “It’s… Your journal. Ergen’s Journal.” Koca seemed conflicted with saying these words and looked up to his brother who was smiling down at him.

Ergen's Journal of Ikons.

“Close enough. Open it up to a page you want to learn about,” Gesturing to the book as Koca begins to flip through the book of secrets and ikons and his brother's mind. Then he found a page. A page he wanted to learn from and pointed at it. That was when the magic began to happen. His eldest brother began to teach him the code of his journal and what the ikon(s) on that page did. Bringing over paper and ikonomancer’s chalk for him to practice and try to properly perform the ikons.

Then an explosion happened. Something went wrong. The whole room was covered in sludge. They were covered in brown to black sludge. It was as cold as mud and as gross a feeling as snot running down your face. It was everywhere. Ergen began to laugh loudly, and his laugh always carried. At first, Koca wanted to cry, but his brother let himself slip into a fit of contagious laughter that he followed. The young boy’s laughs were nervous giggles at first, but they turned into a similar laugh to the one he was hearing.

A shout from the other room could be heard from their mother, “What did you two just do!?” She was far from happy in her tone, but the boys couldn’t stop their laughter as she came into the living room to see it was all covered in an icky, slippery, sludgy material. “You better clean this up,” Her furious tone was directed only at her eldest son, who was covered in the substance. She set down the tea on a side table before shaking her head and walking away.

“I will be, mother! I promise!” Ergen called to the woman hoping she could hear him. “You better!” Was the last thing the two boys heard before they began cleaning whatever substance was created on everything.

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The Nameless City

Discord Link

Come join the discord! You do not have to join the role-play to be a part of the discussion. It is all about building a community and creating a creative space for everyone! Come hang out and learn more about the world, the lore, the characters, and more!

The Nameless City [Long-term, sandbox, flexible]

The OOC/IC thread is up! roleplayerguild.com/topics/191041-the…

The Nameless City

The head of the revolutionists

_{Ergen Ilkin}

Name Ergen Ilkin
Aliases Our Faith, Head of the Revolutionists, Asik, The fourths savior
Age Twenty-four

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Physical Description Because of his thin and slender body, some people may mistake him for a shadow at night or during the day. Ergen is second to none when it comes to physical activity, as he doesn't have the average or superior musculature that most Wardana exhibit. Dominant shoulders and a slender waist, these two traits of his might not associate him with the higher rings, but his skin tone and beauty do. The only scars that have kissed his body are his past as Wardhana and his childhood tragedies. His green eyes are rare in the city and eventually, link him with most families in the upper ring. Two families are known to have such pale green, lifeless eyes. The Ilkins are one of those families and cousins to the royals ​​who act as ships for the High King.

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Storm-touched His views on Stormtouch tend to differ from those of most high ringers. In his eyes, they are human, and in his youth, he was punished for thinking so. The Ilkin family is a noble family known for supplying most of the food to all rings. Naturally, they advance in ikons related to growth and food.
His resentment towards most of the higher rings began when he was a child, about 12 years old, and his father took him to the lower rings to do business there. They were in the fifth ring and met a girl, he thought was the most beautiful. She had big black doe eyes and silver hair. She looked like a porcelain doll. Then he touched her and she broke down and started crying. She was a child at the mercy of the storm. Her skin was like porcelain. He tried to patch the cracks he caused to her cheek with ikons and Ergen found himself alone with the girl. Fatherless. Foolish. Eventually, he found an ikon that healed her damaged cheek and he received a faint smile from her instead.

I'm Ergen.

I'm Ceren. You aren't afraid of me?

No. Why would I be?

I'm cursed from the storm...

Why would I care about that?

With that alone, Ergen felt a grab on the back of the collar of his shirt pull him away from the girl. He saw a gust of wind from an ikon pin her to the ground and split her hand and her arm from the pressure. Her skin began to burst like falling snowflakes. A storm of voices from her father rained down. He was dragged back to the first ring, smeared, ripped, and utterly battered. His father was angry for days, but Ergen didn't understand what he did wrong, why, and what the girl did wrong. He was locked in his room for a week, only healers coming to make sure he wasn't cursed. Ergen was a stubborn child, so he decided to eat very little. When he found out that Stormtouch is allowed to starve to death at someone else's fault. Because of his family. Because of him. The seeds of fate began to change his views.

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Ring Ergen came from the first ring and spent most of his life in the upper rings. After the incident, when he was twelve years old, he was banned from stepping into the third ring without a guard or chaperone. His father set a strict rule that no young man should ever give in to the fifth or fourth filth ringer. He also didn't want his son to have a bad life and thought he was protecting him.

Everything changed when Ergen entered the Wardana School of Ikonomancy at the age of fourteen. Since he had previously studied Ikons, he was at the top of his class and it seemed easier to move up the ranks. At sixteen, he became an active member of Wardana, living in the third ring. During his apprenticeship and academic years, Ergen sneaked into the lower rings to help his Storm touch peers with growing food and other necessities.

Problems arose late one night when another Wardana caught him sneaking into the lower ring. The alarm was raised, and the Regia Guard and Wardana were alerted. No one knew it would be Ergen. He only remembered the dismay of his cousin's voice when his name was called. Ergen. That was when Ergen had to make a decision. A quick one. One that would change his whole life.

Don't take this personally, I'm sorry.

He then cut his finger and deliberately misguided the ikon. Ergen knew that if the wind direction wasn't right, there would be explosive dust and debris storms. A dark cloud envelops the Wardana and the entire Regia guard. Ergen was not acquitted, as the leader of the Regia Guard at the time used his own symbolism to stop him. Disappeared through a tunnel that he knew very little about, and indeed only he used. Ergen found himself in the Forgotten City beneath the Ringed City.

He spent two weeks there, mostly eating oddities and trying to recover from what the Regia Guard leader had done to him. He was in excruciating pain, vomiting blood, and his body continued to bruise. Without enough knowledge to further weaken the ikon's effect, he would die, and could not remove it from his skin. Then he found his way to the gray market and someone helped him. Since then, Ergen has been hiding somewhere in the Fourth Ring.

The ikon used on him was so evil and complicated that it took the people who helped him a whole week to get it under control. They unraveled it, but it scarred his left ribcage and a beautiful geometric pattern was kissed to his body. Beauty and suffering. The scars caused not only physical pain but also emotional pain that made it impossible to return home. He would never see his siblings again. If he wanted to, he would have to be tried for being a traitor to the Upper Ring.

Then there were moments when he didn't walk away from the gray markets protection and didn't go out at all. In the end, he decided to go for a face changer. A person who takes advantage of a false understanding of ikons to change his face. The woman in charge of the procedure was sad to ruin such a beautiful face he gave her a present, but he paid her full price. Sometimes it was difficult to get money. She had to take it, but she kept frowning throughout the process. She bleached his hair. She changed his countenance. It hurt. The pain of change was immense, but it was worth it, but she warned him nonetheless. Only his will can keep the change from fading, but the body will change over time to know the truth.

After a while, he no longer wanted to hide or hide his face. He will fight. He will fight for what he thinks is right. Ergen removed the façade with an ice storm, ripping his skin apart and ripping the falsehood from him. Another painful change occurred, but only a reminder of what he was fighting for. Who was he protecting. He would never feel a quarter of her pain and suffering.

Notable NPCs for this character

Family

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Gunhan Ilkin, 54 years old, head of the Ilkin Family and in-law brother of the Regia.

Gunhan is an advanced Ikonomancer who specializes in creation and growth. Food production is what the side of the family advances in.

---

Asya, 19 years old, is the only daughter in the Ilkin family.

Asya joined the Wardana Academy to follow in her older brother's footsteps, she wanted to be like Ergen, even though she struggles with Ikons. She is not at the top of her class, but she is a wonderful student. She has been a part of the Wardana Academy since the ripe age of fourteen and has dedicated her life to protecting the city.

---

Kadir, is 14 years old, and the second eldest son of the Ilkin Family.

Kadir has recently come of age and has joined the Wardana Academy to learn Ikons like his ancestors before him. He is not as fluent as his eldest brother Ergen though he is learning quicker than his older sister Asya. Quickly becoming an apprentice to a Wardana leader.

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Koca is the youngest child of the Ilkin family and is only 12 years old.

Being the only family member except for his mother who has not participated in the Wardana Academy. Koca finds himself being a mischievous trouble marker around the second and third rings. Only in the third when he can sneak out of the second and away from everyone who is trying to "ruin" his fun. His parents worry that Koca is following in Ergen's footsteps and have applied strict boundaries for this child's life. They don't want him to follow Ergen and go by his own fate.
Through the basic and advanced schooling that he is provided as a second ringer, Koca has shown that he is almost on par with learning Ikons and Ikonomancy like his eldest brother Ergen was at his age. Koca might not be the closest to his eldest brother out of all his family members, but they share the same eyes. Those pale green lifeless eyes like their father.

Yₒᵤ ₕₐᵥₑ ₕᵢₛ ₑyₑₛ.
Wₕₐₜ bₑₐᵤₜᵢfᵤₗ ₑyₑₛ.

Wₕₒ ₐᵣₑ yₒᵤ?

Yₒᵤᵣ bᵣₒₜₕₑᵣ cₐₙ ₕₑₐᵣ ₐₙd ₜₐₗₖ ₜₒ ₘₑ ₐₛ wₑₗₗ.
Wₕₐₜ ₐ bₑₐᵤₜᵢfᵤₗ fₐₘᵢₗy.
Wₕₐₜ ₐ bₑₐᵤₜᵢfᵤₗ cₕᵢₗd ₒf ₘᵢₙₑ.

Wₕₒ ₐᵣₑ yₒᵤ? Yₒᵤ dᵢdₙ'ₜ ₐₙₛwₑᵣ ₘₑ.

Yₒᵤ ₖₙₒw wₕₒ ᵢ ₐₘ.
Wₕₐₜ ᵢ ₐₘ.
Wₕₐₜ ᵢ cᵣy fₒᵣ.
Dₒ ₙₒₜ ₚₗₐy ₖₒᵢ!

Another Prodigy in the Family

_{Koca Ilkin}

Name Koca Ilkin
Age Twelve

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Physical Description Unlike the middle children of his family, Koca, and Ergen share the same eyes and very similar faces. If they were not over ten years apart, they would most likely be mistaken for twins. These two brothers share the green eyes, darker skin, and raven black hair of the Ilkin family. Their siblings however sport the maternal genetics of the line of the Regia. Sun touched skin most call it.

Koca is the youngest child of the Ilkin family and like his brother is on the slightly taller side of the average height for his age. Standing about one inch over five foot and weighing approximately ninety pounds. He has that similar slender build that will grow in a beautiful maturity when he is older. Most could describe Koca as scrawny because of how slender he is. It allows him to fit into smaller spaces.

---

Storm-touched being young allowed his influence of the storm touch to be negative. His parental influences along with his two older siblings influenced fear into the young man. He has never come across someone who was storm-touched and if he did, he didn't know they were. Koca is young enough that his view isn't necessarily negative or positive yet curious, cautious, and fearful.

The partial influence from his eldest brother, Ergen, kept the young boy's mind open to possibilities but he doesn't want to be exiled from the family like Ergen was. Fear drives his caution and motives. There is truly no answer to how Koca would respond to a storm-touch individual.

Let go of me Kadir!!!

You keep wanting to run off and wander without father! I'll bring you to the fourth ring so a storm touch can curse you!

You wouldn't! Father would be mad! Let go!

Then behave yourself and get back to the second ring!

---

Ring being the youngest child of the Ilkin family causes quite a weight to be put on your shoulders. He is the last child and the last son of this specific line and was born to the second ring. The second ring is where he calls home and tends to sneak off from it. That be up to the first ring or down to the third. Koca has never been to the fourth and none of the children have been on casual terms after the incident with his eldest brother and a storm touch child years ago.

Being born into the royal line, into the second ring, and being close family members to the Regia has allowed Koca to have a wonderful and easy upbringing. Everything has been handed to him for his natural advancement in ikons and ikonomancy even at the young age of twelve. Two years too young to participate in the Wardana Academy though he will continue to harness his skills. Maybe one day get as good as his older brother.

An aristocratic child with a bond to adventure and mischievousness. Koca can be found getting himself into everything and anything. Mainly places where he is not allowed and can face consequences for even going near. Again, his parents fear that he will become another Ergen, and they try their best to restrict him from most things especially activities they allowed Ergen to participate in. They don't' want their youngest son to go down the same path.

Notable NPCs for this character

Family

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Gunhan Ilkin, 54 years old, head of the Ilkin Family and brother in-law to the Regia.

Gunhan is an advanced Ikonomancer who specializes in creation and growth. Food production is what the side of the family advances in.

---

Asya, 19 years old, is the only daughter in the Ilkin family.

Asya joined the Wardana Academy to follow in her older brother's footsteps, she wanted to be like Ergen, even though she struggles with Ikons. She is not at the top of her class, but she is a wonderful student. She has been a part of the Wardana Academy since the ripe age of fourteen and has dedicated her life to protecting the city.

---

Kadir, is 14 years old, and the second eldest son of the Ilkin Family.

Kadir has recently come of age and has joined the Wardana Academy to learn Ikons like his ancestors before him. He is not as fluent as his eldest brother Ergen though he is learning quicker than his older sister Asya. Quickly becoming an apprentice to a Wardana leader.

---

The Nameless City

Placement

Notable NPCs

Royal Family
Prince Zavala Zeras

Regia Guard Leader Leonhart Astaros
Regia Guards [1/5]
Godric Argyle

Wardana Captains [08]

Leader of the Rebellion Ergen Ilkin
Rebellion/Activists

StormTouch
Dollface
Alora Lowell
Callina - Cult leader
Melori Astaros - Wife of the Regia Guard leader

Everyone Else
First Ringers
Second Ringers
Third Ringers
Jaina Vann - Apprentice to the leader of the Regia Guard
Fourth Ringers
Faylrie

Rules

۞ Character Acceptance - Only characters that have been through the process of being approved in DMs or through the OOC tab of this RP are only allowed to be posted in this tab. In-the-work character sheets and characters who have not received permission from a GM or Co-GM should not ever post in this tab. Thank you.
۞ Warning - Individuals who post character(s) and non-character content in this tab will find that content to forever be removed. The GM will request that content that is not allowed in this tab will be removed from the tab. Either by the willingness of the individual or the help from the site moderation.
۞ Leaving the RP - if you decide to leave the RP for any means. Please inform the GM. If you do not inform the GM and leave your character exactly where they are at. You willingly allow that character to become an NPC or find a fatal death. You will be allowed to willingly choose the course of your character(s) fate(s) if you work with the GM to write a post exiting your character(s) from the RP.
۞ Character Content - Do not "update" your character in any significant way without sending a note to the GM. If you want something changed, you can always have a discussion. Do not be afraid to do so! I try to be as flexible as I possibly can in change-of-heart situations. This does not cover what happens to IC. If something happens to your character IC, you are allowed to put that into your character sheet without permission.

The Nameless City

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𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖

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Centuries ago the storm was a darkness on the horizon if that, and in current times that same darkness filled the trembling terrors of the citizens of the Nameless City. Everything has been dead quiet for the past month and this has not only put the Wardana on Guard but the Regia, the royal council, and the Regia himself. Naturally, small storm surges happened frequently (difficult to figure out if there was a pattern to the chaos) but they were there unlike the current situation. Nothing for a moon cycle and it was causing everyone’s skin to crawl.

The occurrence was causing prayers from the fourth and third rings to sound more throughout the city while darkness was lit by their ikon-lanterns and it has been the discussion of the second ring. Individuals have been discussing everything and anything. What was happening!? Why were the storm surges delayed and who could possibly remedy this? No one. There was no hope for anyone.

A storm of chaos never shrunk in time and never tried to crawl closer to the center of the city. This should have been considered a time of peace but it was a time of more fear than usual. People were at each other’s necks, surprisingly, the royal council was probably outbursting emotionally the most. A few of the council members were becoming irrational in their thoughts and discussion. Pure devastation. Concern. Sadness. Greed. All the spectrum of emotion could be seen within only a few hours of the council meeting. The Regia, a husk of what the once prince was, had the golden sun-touched eyes of their prestigious god. The Great King. As he spoke, thousands of voices could be heard at once. Children. Men. Women. Everyone as it focused on a booming voice of confidence and reassurance. We will succeed. There were many different missions to figure out why the storm was so still of late but no one could come to a conclusion.

No one has heard the spine-chilling thunderclap-like howls that echoed into the city and bounced against the great stone walls for too long. The fourth was the most shaken when it came to this occurrence. Not one storm surge in a moon cycle must mean they were going to face a giant one… Some individuals could be heard talking throughout the city and explaining that it was more comforting when the beasts were rampaging through the fourth, wrecking buildings, leaving a path of destruction, displacing their families, and shredding their faith. This emptiness was unexplainable for most.

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