Transience — Roleplayer Guild

K i ' i r a

"Oh shit!" the first bandit exclaimed, taken aback by the sudden display of power. 

"Oh, not good!" the second screamed, jumping away from the searing heat that emanated from their target. The mud upon Ki'ira's slender frame was baked with such intensity that it had immediately dried out, breaking away from her skin in great dusty clumps. She had even demanded their clothes as compensation for disrupting her so. One of the bandits looked to the other, both of them shielding their eyes to avoid being blinded by the heat and brightness of the magical flames, and they shared a mutual glance of understanding. They definitely didn't want to be eaten, and they were sure this wild woman was more than capable of making a meal of them. 

"We was' just... just tryina' feed our families," the second bandit whimpered. "Please miss', you can 'ave ur clothes. I don't know what kinda' power that is but... just don't hurt me or 'im, okay?" he said, gesturing to his friend who was still in a state of shock about the events that had transpired. His eyes were flitting between an astounded wideness and a protective avoidance of the heat. Both men were slowly backing away slowly.

They had both managed to strip down faster than lightning after Ki'ira's insistence that they donate their clothes to her cause. They were left shivering, standing by the pathside, entirely exposed for the world to see. They did not understand why she wanted both sets of their apparel, but they gave them up in favour of living to see another day. It was not until several hours later, after a heavy rain had set in over the forest, that the first bandit, Dass, had realised the note he had left in one of the quilted pockets in his tan coat: a hand drawn map leading to a small village a days walk from where they had come, with very clear instructions on how to get there. Whether the village described in the note was a hideout or home for the bandits... Ki'ira would have no way of knowing. Not without following the map and seeing where it lead. 

Feel free to journey either to the location in the note, or to anywhere else in Ansus. You could 'stumble' upon another legend in the same general area as you, or actively seek out this village and see what is going down. Entirely up to you!

E l l a r i a n

"Absolutely, My Lo-" the captain stopped himself mid sentence. "Um. Sir. Absolutely, sir,"

The captain nodded to Ellarian, and led him through the great wooden gates that led from the armoury. A small group of armed and armoured soldiers, all donning their polished steel plate, followed suit a few steps behind the Captain and the newly awakened Ellarian. Pushing through the gates brought the group into a dazzling sunlight, so intense that it momentarily blinded the captain and him men, who all shielded their eyes for a moment as the world came swimming back into focus. They were stood upon the lower fortress walls –certainly restored from when Ellarian was buried there– behind the parapets. Before them was the dizzying expanse of the Northern sands, with the Mountains of Dust looming on the horizon, and a vast scrawl of rocky outcroppings veering off into the distance. However the beautiful vista was marred and ruined by the presence of a barbaric host surrounding the perimeter of the fortress. 

"Sub-men, my lord- I- I mean, sir," the captain began, pointing to the force below. "They come from the Deep North Wildlands, technically beyond Ansus' reach. They weren't around in your time, I don't think. They're a sort of... how do I put this? A lesser group of men. Ones who still feast upon flesh and find pleasure in killing innocents. They started pouring in from the wildlands about ten years back, but we've never had such a big problem with them before," he started. The captain waved his hands apart, signifying the entire force that was before them. "Then this came with no warning. Nobody saw it coming. Every night they attack anew, they fire catapults at the walls and they scale the heights like crazed madmen. They'll get atop right here and they will just kill and kill."

The captain lowered his head, before turning it behind him to catch a glimpse of a screaming man being carried across the span of the wall. He had a massive gash in his right shoulder, though it was not currently bleeding. They were taking him to an overworked doctor so that maybe his life could be saved. 

"We lost thirty men last night. The number keeps rising," he said to Ellarian, desperately trying to convince him of their plight. "The King won't send reinforcements or... or even anything. He doesn't believe that this is really happening. And they are only getting stronger, as though empowered by some dark force. Maybe they have a leader now?"

He shook his head. "Either way, our situation is dire. The suns will fall below the horizon soon and they will be upon us again. I estimate there are at least two thousand of them down there, so a pre-emptive attack has been out of the question for us so far. Maybe you can lend us your expertise? Maybe you can lead us to repel them for once and for all?"

You can make use of any strategy you can think of in this situation. The soldiers and the captain will heed Ellarian's command and do as he requires. They will adapt. Feel free to control enemies as you come into contact with them, as well as the Captain and his men.

N o r c o  K h a n

The Chief found the Wolf King in his own private hut come the crisp, wintery morning. His fire had died down long before dawn, but the Chief hardly imagined such a thing would bother the fearsome warrior. At least he now had a proper set of clothes, produced with what could have only been love by the clan's sewing woman. 
Walking into the hut was more than a surreal experience. The Chief had been raised on stories of the Wolf King, hearing tales of his exploits and valour over so many years was the sole reason he himself was able to become the man he was today. He was starstruck and still rather nervous. He knew not what to make of his return, and he hid a terrible embarrassment over the loss of the Wolf King's axe.

"My King," said the Chief in his characteristically low grumble. "Dawn is upon us. Shall we take the the mountains and slay this beast?"

He did not wait for Norco Khan's response. 

"I have already planned our route to the Dragon's lair," he said with enthusiasm, laying down a quilt upon which a map had been scrawled in black Ice Fish blood. He took to his knee and traced his finger through a winding series of lines and crosshatches. "This is the simplest route, and the fastest. We will take to the basin of the old river and track it through to the caves. Once there, we can climb back to the surface," he poked a certain point on the map. "Once we are there, it is only a two hour trek through the outskirts of the forest and we will come upon the lair of the beast. We kill the creature, and we retrieve your weapon of legend,"

The Chief looked upon the Wolf King, hoping he had planned to the standard of the most legendary Kulgan. He wrapped the map into a roll, fastened it to his furs with a strip of leather and a rudimentary iron buckle, and gestured for Norco to follow suite. 

"Let us leave before the snowfall becomes to heavy for us to make the journey,"

Feel free to take this opportunity to actually undergo the journey. The Chief is all yours to control and use as an NPC. When you get the the dragon's lair (hindered or unhindered) I will then take control of your adversay and we can go from there.

P r i c i a

The winds howled high up in the castle tower. The forest seemed to span for miles upon miles, and perhaps on a brighter day, Pricia may have even been able to see the Bastion of Light. But alas, the world was growing dark and cold, and the sky grew more ashen by the day. Thick fog rolled in the distance, and the path she could see grew sodden with a continuous, light drizzle. Silence reigned for a few minutes following Pricia's contemplation. Far below, the door to the castle clanked and moaned, and the two grave robbers from earlier could be seen scurrying away, sacks full of old ornaments and trinkets. They had recovered such bounty that it almost spilled from their sacks. They had plundered the last of Pricia's family heirlooms for wealth and adventure. 

When they had disappeared into the trees and they could no longer be heard from atop the castle, another curious sound took the place of their mumbling. It sounded like a slow scratching and light tapping, all contained within a deep, heavy breathing. Closer it came to the tower, it's sound echoing through the empty stone walls. Closer.

Closer.

From the shadows emerged a creature with bright orange eyes. A wolf, it seemed. It's fur ruffled and matted with mud, scars lining its otherwise beautiful face. And within its jaws it clutched a dead Goeing Bird, a long established symbol of Goethia. It was once said that they were an avatar of the goddess herself, and could never be found dead in the wild. Yet here one was, very much lifeless, and with no apparent cause of death. 
The wolf timidly padded up to Pricia and placed the bird at her base. It immediately bolted back into the shadows. 

Make what you will of the bird, but there is a very clear hint ;) You have a wide array of options available to you from here: you can make your way to the Bastion of Light (and probably encounter Sikes or Altim), you can take the path that Pricia can see (which due to its anonymity could lead to the hamlet that Volkimir is in or lead to the village described in Ki'ira's section.) Or you can go nuts and do something totally unexpected. Let's have some fun!

A l t i m

The Priest had no words to say after this man, that had emerged from the crypt and claimed to be Altim, had performed a magical feat that none other than Altim himself could have done. The Priest immediately felt his stomach drop and he tried to chase after the man, but his youthful legs carried him too fast for the Priest to follow. He sat himself upon a rock and buried his head in his hands. He knew he had made a horrible mistake and alienated the man he had always looked up to in stories and tales. 

"Ahh..." he sighed. "Fuck,"

It had been at least an hour past since Altim had left the ignorant priest behind, and a rain was beginning to set. The dirt turned to mud, and the beaten paths that intermittently criss-crossed through the forest like winding snakes had turned sodden and soft. Each step of the foot would have been met with a surprising slip in the grasp of the wet earth. 
A young boy, no older than twelve, was sprinting through the brush and panting wildly as he went, as though he were crying and running all at the same time. His sniffles could be heard from all around, piercing through the blanket sound of rain hitting the canopy. 

The boy could not have been paying attention to his surroundings, because one moment he was fleeting on his feet, and the next he caught his foot in a particularly stubborn root and stumbled and fell almost directly into Altim's path. He met the ground with a satisfying squelch and was coated in a thick layer of mud from his fall. The boy laid there for a minute, his head still pressed against the mud. He was sobbing. 

For a minute or so he did not even realise he was in the presence of another. He was entirely too focused on being sad to pay any mind to who or what was watching him. He lifted his head slowly, still sniffling, though the majority of his tears must have already been spent. 

"I- i'm sorry mister," he began, in an effort to be polite. "I just- i was- I just was..." he could not force out the words through the lump in his throat, borne off too much sadness. "I can't go back. My father says I have to be a soldier! I don't wan't to be a soldier!" he shouted, almost enticing a second wave of tears. "I want to be a bard!"

You can take full NPC control of the boy to learn of his situation. If you so choose, you can have him lead you back to the village and you can confront the father in your wonderful, bardy way. Or you can ignore the kid and continue to the Bastion to find Altim's violin. If choosing the latter, it would be reasonable to assume that you can reach the bastion in your post. From there you would have to convince the guards of Altim's identity in order to get the violin. Your call, hot-shot ;)

V o l k i m i r

The farmers of the Western hamlets worked long, hard hours to supply the heartland cities with the food they needed to survive, but the coin they got in return was much more than they could expect in other regions of Ansus. This made the simple life for village-folk easy and comfortable, though occasionally they would have to suffer through the loss of livestock, and, very occasionally, people, through animal attacks and the very rare bandit raid. The people of the hamlets considered the trade off a fair one, and continued to live their lives in harmony as generations of farmers. 
Things were good for them, whether Ansus was unified or not. There was always need for the Western farms. Yet upon this encroaching dusk, something stood upon the roadside, looking in at the simple folk. It was as though it could feel their heartbeats; their fears, and it thirsted for for their lifeblood. 
The presence of such a creature would be cause for alarm for anything that would lay eyes upon it, yet in the darkness the men and women of the hamlet would not be looking for, nor would they be able to see an ancient vampire lord who had just risen anew. 

Moooooo came a sound from the fields. The presence of such an unnatural and unholy creature had stirred the farm animals from their rest, though they did not know why they felt so suddenly uncomfortable. Even though Volkimir was far, they could sense him. MooooooooOOOO roared one of the beasts again, stirring up the other, more docile creatures. It was only a matter of minutes before the fields were alive with the sound of crying animals, all yelping and grunting at a presence they could not pinpoint. 

The door to one of the hamlet houses creaked open, and a man carrying a dimly lit oil lamp slipped out. 

"Shhh!" he said, trying to comfort the animals. "What has stirred ye' so?" he asked them, not expecting an answer. He shot his head up, looking into the bleak darkness beyond the dull lights of the hamlet. "Who's there?" he asked the night.

Well, there's a villager. There are a bunch of animals. He's totally ripe for the harvest. What will you do? Kill, or no...? ;)
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