Vashonn

| Glimhollow | a Tale of Dust and Dissent

@Hero Thanks!

| Glimhollow | a Tale of Dust and Dissent

Welcome, traveler, to...

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_{Mood music}

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Deep in the core of the Dunes lies there a City – marvel of the world it be, as not such a magic as it exists. The stories which are told to you and I about this captivating oasis in the heart of the Ocean of Dust are true: I have seen it with my own eyes, though many years have passed since my great expedition through the great desert. For many long, sweltering days and deep, biting-cold nights we plowed our way through the sands, driven on by the peculiar kevol who drew our carriages across the Dunes. Twice we encountered the accursed, colossal sandstorms of the desert, whirling as high as the very heavens, and spreading from horizon to horizon. After a month’s journey – and what felt like an eternity – we finally saw the glimmering point of a great tower: Paragon Keep, of the Mirage City. I blinked one-thousand times and shook the sand from my eyes until my neck was sore, but in spite of my disbelief we were soon upon the phenomenal city gate, and I knew then for it to be true.

There is no greater mystique in all of Peylor than the City of Glimhollow.

--Boris Nirloff, Annals of Peylor

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Here you stand at the Gateway of Glimhollow, the Lone Oasis at the heart of the great desert known simply as the Dunes – a monumental blemish within the center of the world of Peylor. The City of Sand is widely regarded as myth to those who live beyond the Dunes, as the connection to the outside world is nearly non-existent, save for the monthly visits from the Kevol Caravans. A nation built within a single city, Glimhollow has survived for centuries thanks to the mysterious energy of the spark crystals that it lies atop of, as these peculiar jewels fuel every fire, enrich every crop and power every machine within the city’s sandstone walls, as well as the civilization below the nation’s mines in what has been dubbed Deepwell – an immeasurable, blackened ocean, extending in every direction but upward for as far as any sparkboat has been able to venture, and return.
You are here for whatever reason it may be: your elfen grandfather sought refuge from the genocide of his people; your dwarfen ancestors were among the first to mine the gemstones that were discovered here, so long ago; or you’re a simple human caravaneer, looking to prove the city’s existence to yourself, and discover what secrets it may hold. But alas, you have been snatched into the clutches of the greatest political feud that has ever occurred within this desert metropolis, as the populace has been forced under near-militaristic rule by the Paragon – the council of nobility that dictate every significant action within the city. Beware, as there are dangers lurking behind every corner, and even the sand beneath your boot is more treacherous than it seems…

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_{Join the Discord!}

https://discord.gg/m5wmHBR

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Hello, and welcome. I'm glad you've made it this far, if this has caught your attention. As you may have guessed, this RP will be focused on the strange happenings in the city-nation of Glimhollow: a beacon of civilization set in the middle of a monumental desert. The events that brought you here are undoubtedly varied, but one thing is for certain - you are a member of the Dusthawks, a gang of thieves and cutthroats holed up in the depths of the city, and against your best wishes, have become enthralled in the midst of a conflict that has been brewing in this oasis for years.

Any and all are welcome to join the Discord server, where much more information regarding the city and world lore is stored. While it may feel overwhelming, the intention is for a story to be told of one group's perspective on the events that will soon be ensnaring the whole of the city, and their individual roles in it's resolution.

Though a starting date has yet to be selected, I plan on getting something set up this month, and as such will hope that your involvement in its development shows your dedication and investment to the idea presented. As such, I'm hoping for this to be a very long-running RP, and wish to have the participation required to keep it going for as long as intended.

Thank you for your interest, and I hope to be speaking with you soon!

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City Information

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Though it seems that the world is limited to only the confines of the city, let this not deter you – Glimhollow is a gargantuan oasis in the sands, with well over a million citizens presiding within its walls, all of them spread throughout the great height, width, and depths of the city. Glimhollow is split into five primary Districts, with each District housing essential sectors that support the entire metropolis.

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Set at the highest region of Glimhollow, Hallivarr is predominantly housed by the upper-class members of society – nobility, military officials, and wealthy businessmen alike. Amongst themselves, the residents of the Sky District refer to each other as the most sophisticated, well-mannered, and well-dressed members of the entire city. To the rest of the populace, these same characters are regarded as the most pompous, arrogant, and deceitful snobs which recoil at the sight of sand on their boots. Frequently, the large towers and theatre halls of this district are tenanted by an array of festivities and feasts, which all are invited to attend – though whether you can pay your way in is entirely another feat.
Access to the Sky District is practically hopeless for those born below a noble stature, as there is a notably high price on placing your name on the selection ballot for access into the district, let-alone the purchasing of one’s license to ride the drop-ferry up after you’ve been deemed worthy of admittance. This impregnable restriction is truly in place so as to keep the ‘common rabble’ from disturbing the Hallivarrian community, though the members of this society would never admit such prejudice in mixed company – heavens forbid they have to face the reality of the growing poverty sweeping across the populace beneath their very feet.

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Appropriately dubbed the Pale District, Wid is home to the largest concentration of elfenkind in all of Peylor. After the attempted genocide of the elfen peoples at the end of the second era, an exodus of elves flocked into the Dunes so as to find refuge in the city of Glimhollow; a decision considered to the rest of Peylor as an assurance of their demise. Surprisingly enough, the elves were able to brave the Dunes for a long three-month journey – now referred to as the Burning Egress – and even assimilate into the predominantly human culture upon arrival; and as a consequence, most of their culture was either lost or integrated into that of the general populace.
Notably opulent when compared to the other districts – with the exception of Hallivarr – Wid is set just below the Sky District, illustrating the pyramid of wealth that Glimhollow is established upon. Though it isn’t entirely uncommon to see dwarves or humans sauntering about this district, the residents of Wid pride themselves in their elfen heritage, believing themselves to be the last remaining symbol of elfenkind – despite the evident diminishment of their language and traditional lifestyle. However, Wid has recently come under severe hardship, as the divulgence of the Pale Plague has the entirety of the elfen community in disarray, worried that such a contagion cannot be suppressed.

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The first level of the city visited by travelers and geographic center of Glimhollow, Brenson is the most populated and busiest district of the entire metropolis, appropriately named the Gold District for its economic significance and distinct golden colors. Experiencing the heaviest traffic at all times of the year, Brenson is built upon a thick level of sandstone, iron, and rock mined from the Pits to ensure that it can withstand the sheer weight of the city above it. The Gold District is split into a Northern and Southern precinct, separated by the Bazaar stretching to the east and Roberham Hall to the west. Both precincts are housed by the city’s human population, making this District the heaviest populated of all the city’s sections, as well as the previous seat of the old government when Glimhollow was still primarily a mining community.
The Southern precinct is predominantly populated by engineers, artisans, builders, and craftsmen of similar trades, whereas the Northern precinct is home to the majority of the city’s human scholars, orators, alchemists, and clergymen; though such a divide becomes less prevalent the closer one gets to the District’s central latitude, where the majority of the merchants and shopkeeps set their stores and boutiques.

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As the site where the first pick struck the stone that would later widen out into the bottom half of Glimhollow, Shenul is a region of heritage and history, despite its modern charge as a colony of thugs and degenerates. Upper Shenul fortunately has the higher esteem of the two districts: previously a natural deposit of the enchanted spark crystals, this district was entirely carved out of the landscape for its coveted jewels over the span of two-hundred years, carefully etched and mined away to leave the rocks shaped so they could support the weight of the growing community above them. Now colloquially the Red District, Upper Shenul is given such a crimson title in reference to both its scarce glow from the sun and as the seat of the Bellows, giving the entire district a distinct vermilion hue by day and a deep maroon shade by night.
Populated by predominantly dwarfen families, Upper Shenul is built like a funnel, with the highborn households dispersed across the upper rim in the August Estates, and the laboring tribes scattered throughout the slanting cone. While it isn’t unheard of for humans and half-breeds to inhabit this region, such individuals are typically to be found along the lowest levels of the district, falling in-line with their social standing.

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In stark contrast to its brother district, Lower Shenul embraces the connotation of abhorrence often belittling the underground portion of Glimhollow, being populated almost entirely with lawless lowlifes, impoverished outcasts, and apathetic addicts. The Gray District is dimly lit with the greenish-glow of sparklamps, allowing for the frequent infractions that plague the Underfolk. There’s notably a minimal Juggernaut presence here – save for the dense guard patrols inside the Pits – as the elite police force seems only interested in pacifying the populace enough to keep them from acting on anarchistic ambitions.
As the Gray District was dug away, a sharp decline in the amount of spark crystals harvested from the stone brought with it a concern that the entire city would have to be abandoned, though with the breakthrough to Deepwell, as well as the discovery of a giant deposit in what would come to be known as the Pits, hope for the continued growth of the city grew as the population rose upward into the sky far above. However, this expansion left behind a despondent community of those Glimhollow cared little to remember – particularly half-breeds, as the children of these bastard unions of man, dwarf, or elf have the deplorable affliction of sterility, making these scorned souls appear as little more than mules in the eyes of the pure-bred living above.

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Beneath the mines of the city lies a vast, pitch-dark aquifer with no known edges – Deepwell. Discovered during a tragic mining accident when the Pits were still active quarries, Deepwell has since become a major role in the preservation and development of Glimhollow, acting as the city’s primary source of water and continuous provider of the marvelous spark crystals – the very lifeblood of the city’s energy. Stemming from the base of the Drop-Ferry to the air just above the aquifer’s waters is the masterfully crafted Cranelift Marina, where the numerous sparkboats tie anchor after their journeys into the Deep. While most within the city regard Deepwell as a foul, accursed sea, few would dare discount it’s necessity as Glimhollow’s sustenance.

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≈ Nihayat—Sehten, Beginning of an End

Just thought I'd set this here, though it's a bit messy at the moment.

Majrah-Nābhid

Majrah-Nābhid

☩ _{''With thine cup doth tip to lips} ☩
<sub>And to ring's center doth arrive
Trust to lay away thine wish
And from His heart shall pour reply

For eve's delight come forth song
For grievances, a longing sigh
But for those thou would do wrong</sub>
☩ _{Come screeching forth a piercing cry''} ☩

_{-- Excerpt from Rites of Ma'hājh-nket}

_{Majrah-Nābhid, depicted drinking from the Pool of Sorrow}

ℬasic ℭharacteristics

_{“ℭharacter motto here”}

☩ ℕame--

Majrah-Nābhid,

☩ God of--

Festivity, Inebriation, Merriment, Sorrow, & Trickery

☩ Gender--

♂

☩ Ѻrientation--

Has been known to take interest in mortal women.

Ⱥppearance

_{خدایان فریاد می زنند}

☩ ℘ortrayal--

⒈ Facial features

*Smooth face above the mouth, flat where there would instead be eyes and a nose
*In place of nose rests an amber jewel, which is sometimes replaced with an amber-colored eye in older artwork
*Blood-red lips encircle a wide maw, filled with countless sharp ivory points in place of teeth

⒉ Body features

*Cracked, dry ivory-colored skin & flesh
*In depictions of trickery or misdeeds, is often engrossed in a mass of tendril-like appendages, many of which appear to be acting on their own accord
*Has been portrayed both standing and floating
*Hands and feet stained dark red

⒊ Clothing

*Gray-colored garments similar in fashion to a celebratory dress
*Is occassionally veiled in depictions of sorrow, mourning, etc.

⒋ Equipment
*Usually holds a golden bowl or cup, often containing wine or a similar drink

☩ ℋeight--

1.98m//6'6"

☩ ωeight--

Weight in kilograms/pounds

☩ ℇyes--

None, though like most gods can make way of 'seeing' via omniscience.

☩ Ƀuild--

Extroadinarily lithe, though has been depicted with a protruding stomach in illustrations of festivals and feasts.

℘ersonality

_{و آسمان فرود می آید}

☩ ℘ersonality--

*

☩ Ⱥctive Ⱥbilities--

*Drink of the Festival: Can turn any liquid to any type of spirits, so long as contact is made with the liquid's chalice or container. This ability can cleanse most liquids of toxin or corruption, though can not be used on any liquids that are already alcoholic or have been turned in the past.
*

☩ Ⱥmbient Ⱥbilities--

*Joyous Contagion//Mournful Contagion: The cheer and gloom of this God have a peculiar effect on the emotions of the mortals, demi-gods, and lesser-willed gods he confers with, having some influence over their mood based on his own. However, gods who preside over extreme emotional domains (i.e. hatred, vengeance, etc.) are inherently resistant to this ability, as are the demi-gods and heroes of these same gods.

☩ Ⱥversion--

Mark down 3 key dislikes of your character

☩ Ⱥmbitions and ℱears--

Mark down long-term, short-term goals and (deep) fears for your character.

ℋistory

_{آخر الزمان}

☩ ℱamily--

* Child of At'uir, Sun of Balance & Consequence
* Brother to Al'tāh-Yihn, God of Wandering, Discovery, Oversight, & Mirages

☩ ℂharacter relations--

Details of significant opinions or relations with other deities, creatures, or mortals.

☩ Ƀiography--

*

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4/28 EDIT:
Here are even more bare bones, this time for Al'tāh-Yihn. I'll be elaborating on this later - just wanted to put the idea up.

Al'tāh-Yihn

Al'tāh-Yihn

☩ Quote ☩

_{Common depiction of Al'tāh-Yihn, fully robed with simple mask and blue flame burning beneath feet.}

ℬasic ℭharacteristics

_{Silent eyes stare curiously into the air, speaking only in riddles as a soft wind dances with a chilling sting.}

☩ ℕame--

Al'tāh-Yihn; the Wandering One; the Unforgotten Voice

☩ God of--

Wandering, Discovery, Oversight, & Mirages

☩ Gender--

Unknown//Depiction varies

☩ Ѻrientation--

Not known to take interest in any being, mortal or divine.

Ⱥppearance

_{خدایان فریاد می زنند}

_{If you have a different picture of the same faceclaim, put it here.}

☩ ℘ortrayal--

Written description of characters appearance, detailing closer upon picture, including;

⒈ Facial features
⒉ Body features
⒊ Clothing
⒋ Any equipment

☩ ℋeight--

Height in meters/feet

☩ ωeight--

Weight in kilograms/pounds

☩ ℇyes--

Color, shape, size

☩ Ƀuild--

Physical build of your character

℘ersonality

_{و آسمان فرود می آید}

☩ ℘ersonality--

Mark down the general personality of your character

☩ Ⱥctive Ⱥbilities--

Abilities drawn out through effort. eg. Storm weaving, shape-shifting, fire igniting.

☩ Ⱥmbient Ⱥbilities--

Abilities innate to one's existence and present. Do their tears turn to rainfall? Do flowers grow beneath their feet?

☩ Ⱥversion--

Mark down 3 key dislikes of your character

☩ Ⱥmbitions and ℱears--

Mark down long-term, short-term goals and (deep) fears for your character.

ℋistory

_{آخر الزمان}

☩ ℱamily--

* Child of At'uir, Sun of Balance & Consequence
*Sibling to Majrah-Nābhid, God of Festivity, Inebriation, Merriment, Sorrow, & Trickery

☩ ℂharacter relations--

Details of significant opinions or relations with other deities, creatures, or mortals.

☩ Ƀiography--

Mark down the (relevant and significant) life events of your character

No Turning Back - Surving the Abyss - Original Sci-Fi RP.

Color me interested. Though of course, a few questions:

Just for clarity's sake - the RP starts in the year 2216, then time-skips to 2221?

The Project Genesis synopsis feels contradictory. It states that each ship is "filled with the best and brightest humanity had to offer", but then later says "healthy young individuals were chosen at random". Which one is it? And how did they secretly board 7.2 million people onto these 12 ships, and how did they "hide" these 12 ships for ten years?

I read up on the Genesis Project and Genesis Ark pages, and it states that there are only 10,000 awake people, but still 500,000 cryogenically suspended individuals. I'd reckon that there have to be some wicked storage technology going on in order to be able to store, monitor, and maintain 500,000 people in a 7km sized vessel. How much of the vessel is taken up by the cryo vault?

If I come up with more inquiries, I'll be sure to let you know!

♠♥♣♦ Welcome to Wonderland (CLOSED FOR NEW REBOOT) ♢♧♡♤

Just slinkin' around in the corner, myself.

♠♥♣♦ Welcome to Wonderland (CLOSED FOR NEW REBOOT) ♢♧♡♤

@EchoicChamber Zihin would more than likely be a frequent subject to the twins' constant pranks, due to his spacey nature (I can imagine several instances where a misplaced pipe is really just Percival's swift swiping when the old silkworm isn't looking). Also, so long as they dont get bored of his long, drawn-out musings, the three of them could have had plenty of interesting discussions in the past - maybe he took it upon himself to be a sort of teacher when the twins were younger?

♠♥♣♦ Welcome to Wonderland (CLOSED FOR NEW REBOOT) ♢♧♡♤

@Akayaofthemoon not to pry, but is there an estimated start-date you were planning on? School will be starting back up for me next Tuesday, which may strain my availability a bit, as will the oncoming holidays.

A 1940's Pulp Adventure (Indiana Jones/The Rocketeer/The Mummy inspired)

I know I'd personally prefer an application process, even if I do turn out not worthy of whichever position I choose . Though, it really depends more on how much traction and attention this gets, after all. You have me intrigued, I can tell you that!

♠♥♣♦ Welcome to Wonderland (CLOSED FOR NEW REBOOT) ♢♧♡♤

@Akayaofthemoon

I gotchu:

Spangled Bobbin

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♠♥♣♦ Welcome to Wonderland (CLOSED FOR NEW REBOOT) ♢♧♡♤

Zihin Yavas

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Nickname: the Clever Caterpillar, Wise-Worm, Zane (among friends)

Gender: Male

Age: Despite his youthful appearance, Zihin has long since lost track of the days he can find worth remembering, and he certainly couldn't tell you the number of days which he couldn't remember having had at all. If you ask most Wonderlanders, they'd say they've always been taught a bit of the caterpillar's wisdom in their youth, but not many could tell you when he said most of the things that people still go around saying today. Of course, one could always ask him - yet he wouldn't outright tell you much of anything at all, regardless of whether it pertained to the question. You might even think it wise to confront him on his evasion, which he would respond to with "where is the respect in asking a philosopher his age?", or "I'm just as old now as I was every other now, and all the nows before those," and then he would head off again on one of his immaculate tangents, and you'd be hard-pressed to get so much as a word in for your own case.

Personality: The Great Zihin Yavas considers himself to be a student of the Mind, dedicating much of his time and energy towards the ponderings of the world and the not-world, as well as everything else in-between, all so that those who wouldn't want to ponder all of these things for themselves, shan't. He has come to many a conclusion in his extensive tenure as Wise-Worm, stating such insight as it shouldn't be a concern for the birds who nest in a tree's canopy to have to keep an eye out for falling snakes, and that if there should be a drop of rain, be keen to hold your parasol beneath you if you mean to keep afloat.
In conversation, the Caterpillar tends to drift from one thought to the next, letting off one subject just as quickly as it had been brought up, though he has on occasion found ways to tie everything together at the rambling's resolution. However, he can come across as being a fair bit spacey or forgetful, as he does just as well a job of leaving his thoughts open, leaving everything he uttered entirely up to the interpretation of the listener. Unfortunately for some, this can lead many discussions away from their original intention, so long as the other participant isn't doing well to keep the old Caterpillar on track. Further, he's absolutely horrible at remembering individual names, and will come across rather boorish and uncouth when asking one to identify themselves.

History: For as long a history as the Caterpillar may or may not have had, there still isn't a great amount to be told to any who would listen to the tale. For all that he could remember himself, Zihin has spent a majority of his life among the flowers and grasses of Katrina's garden, sleeping upon his pile of pillows at his private pad. Often, he would take walks about the bright and vivid cascades of color and life, spending a great deal of his time meditating among the Omberry bushes, or swimming near the banks of the flavorful waterfall, always transfixed in his wandering thoughts. Occasionally, Wonderlanders would come into the garden to seek his wisdom, and he would then sit and ponder with them, smoking away at his pipe and focusing his mind on the great issue at hand. Eventually, he would reply in kind, and his accomplice would swiftly thank Zihin and be off, oftentimes much faster than he could find the time to bid them a good evening, regardless of what time of day it would be then.
Sometimes, though, if he dwells on it, Zihin can recall a wonderful, faraway place, at a time when he felt much more spry and active. Though the details have all blurred in the back of his head, one distinction that he can always call to mind was how wonderful the warm sun felt against his skin, and the smell of foreign incense and oils.

Job: It would be fair to say on anyone else's behalf that the Caterpillar does very little of anything at all, beyond munching upon leaves and smoking from his pipe; but if ever accused of laziness, Zihin would fervently attest that he does a mighty fine job of tending to the garden during Katrina's absence, aside from the time he spends speculating on the realities of the world.

Crush: It's difficult enough to push through the haze of Zihin's mind, with how easily he allows his thoughts to drift from subject to subject. Rarely does he ever talk about any feelings beyond his love of nature or fascination with the mind, and even then it is never on the subject of attraction. Still, the Caterpillar does wonder every now and then if there will ever come a time that he should need a partner - perhaps, however, that time hasn't come yet.

Other: Zihin smokes a strangely potent, bright, and intoxicating herb from his long wooden pipe, with which he is able to craft eloquently colorful depictions of the characters or concepts he is talking about. Though he truly means no harm by it, he has a bad tendency to exhale into other people's faces as he speaks, which can sometimes make even the most resilient lungs hack and choke. Though he would be embarrassed to show anyone else, Zihin is extremely fond of singing, and delights himself with the melodies of classical poetry and song. In his speech, the Caterpillar has a tendency to over-enunciate certain words, or insert redundancies where they needn't occur - however, if questioned about this, Zihin will act clueless to the fact that those repetitions arose.

Played by: @Vashonn

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