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In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay








Velles 5th


Location: Au Boeuf Rouge - Ersand'Enise
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 4:XX HE
Characters: Ingrid @dragonpiece, Kaspar @Wolfieh,
Maura @Ti, Zarina, Zarra @BreathOfTheWoof
Anna, Au Boeuf Rouge's Staff, Carving Contestants







Au Boeuf Rouge, a renowned establishment that catered to the most wealthy in Ersand’Enise. Not quite a restaurant - the service industry had yet to truly blossom - but it provided chefs of considerable quality for households that sought to have feasts for the evening. Occasionally the building was used for events where servants would essentially serve as waiters with menus proposed to the rich. It was a first for Zarina, and she did take some time to absorb the many aromas coming from the kitchens.

A twig was given to her by Maura, prompting the young Virangish to blink rapidly whilst pinching it at the base, “... What exactly is it? Do I just snap it or burn it?” her eyebrows rose as she was left perplexed. Still, she stored the peculiar item into the pocket of her apron.

“Yeah, no, we’re going to get creamed by the competition.” confirmed Zarina as she adorned the fresh, white apron and tied her hair in a way that it’d avoid being a hazard for the coming challenge, “So we gotta be smart about it. Starting with our dish choice.” she peered over at Maura, “Apart from a singular Virangish pepper, the cost shouldn’t be too exorbitant, I reckon.” she then pulled the knives from the slots to inspect each one, nodding in satisfaction after a brief inspection of the equipment.

The Virangish lady’s attention then went to Ingrid, “Glad to see you’re not too shaken after earlier today.” she chuckled, “I’m going to have to insist that you don’t grace us with Eskandish delights - or anything Eskandish whatsoever - during this cook-off.” Zarina had plucked the last knife out and passed her digits over the surface of the blade. This was what she was going to use to carve the proper cut out of the carcass once she had properly treated it, “So, I propose A Boeuf Bourguignon. It’s like Beef stew, but with a specific Burgundy Wine you can buy in the winery here. Very Perrench.”

A few taps of her index to the tip of the blade left her with her lips pursed before she waved the blade in Ingrid’s direction, “I’ll leave you to decide what comes with the main meat and sauce.” her attention then went to Zarra and Kaspar, “The competition is a butcher and a chef,” the tip of the knife as pointed right at them, “So, instead I’d trust you guys to run interference on the other teams. They’re better than us, so we gotta play like dicks.”





The carving room. A very spacious set of rooms where the contestants could bring their creatures to slaughter and later butcher them. Zarina, being who she was, opted for the carcass of a perfectly average cow. Of course, as the rules stipulated, she had to butcher it, meaning the whole process had to be completed, from emptying, to skinning to carving out the perfect slice. She sighed at the sight, but winced at the sounds of hoofs and calls of animals that echoed through the rooms. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

”Hi! Food, yum?” greeted Anna as she pointed at the carcass.

“Well hey you,” Zarina replied back with far less enthusiasm, though she could muster a smile, “That’s mine, yeah.”

Kikimoras was with her and on him were various bags with supplies to prepare the meats, most likely. A convenient giant to handle dumb labour for this minuscule girl, ”Luck good! Win yes.”

“Hah! You’re on you little shit.” Zarina smirked right as Anna did the same. They didn’t need to speak the same language to understand their fiery desire to win.

Zarina’s Plan for the Carving:

❖ She is going to begin by cleaning her workspace, the carcasse and get some water boiling in the basin. The tail will be severed and the body will be dipped in the wanted to make the skinning easier.

❖ A marinade of soy sauce, rice vinegar, garlic, water and grated and dried Virangish pepper kept at a minimum to not burn some Perrench tongues!

❖ Once skinned, the animal will be emptied and the head severed along with the hooves. The carcass is ready to be carved. From there, she will show the world, after a good couple of months, what a dancer can do with a pair of sharp blades.

❖ Lacking a beat, she will lose her tempo. And so, she will snap the twig ...

In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay






Within the crevice Zarina had detected during the Halassa race, there was a trap door that revealed a chest containing ancient Darhannic relics. As always with lost treasures, there were traps as well with the Virangish adventurer nearly succumbing to a pitfall. The hole clearly led to something much deeper. Her attention was first on the contents of the chest she had bothered to find:

❖ One Half of a scarab with a left eye engraved onto its shell, representing the Seer of What Has Been. It is blue in colour.
❖ A six-pointed star.
❖ An old bronze hourglass with sands that start red and turn black as they flow through the middle.
❖ A Parchment Scroll with writing similar to what is inscribed on the nearby wall.


Zarina then peered down into the hole. It wasn’t too deep, as even with the dim lightning she could distinguish a floor a few feet down, Like fuck I’m going down there alone. with the newly acquired items stored in a leather bag she had brought, she set off to gather a few people she could trust to not completely mess things up as they snooped around.

❖ Ayla, someone I think I can trust with anything. If anything, she’ll keep our spirits up in these dank and lonely passages.
❖ Jocasta, a powerful person and someone I very much consider a friend. If things go south, she’s reliable to at worst get us out of the gutter.
❖ Ingrid, another powerful individual and someone that at least has a reason to not fuck me over. Decent person, no reasons to overthink.
❖ Desmond, I know the least about among the four. Said to be competent and can handle himself without magic. Probably has the skills to handle creepy undergrounds.


The team was gathered and they were now back where Zarina had left off, with Jocasta suggesting a translation of the parchment, which matched what was written on the wall. Zarina revelled in the fascinating goodies she had acquired. All of which would make fine additions to her future home. The parchment got her to raise a brow, “I uh, I can try to translate. Can't promise much, though.” her Zaqhory was rather underwhelming, let alone ancient Zaqhory. Nonetheless, they all shared roots to Inipori languages.

As expected, she wasn’t able to make out everything, but she noticed that the matching lines are prefaced by a word that meant something like, "read" while non-matching lines refer to the matching lines. They all have a word that she thinks essentially means, "respond." They were since down into the ruins where the walls held even more scriptures, and dangers lurked at every corner.














“There are Hundreds!”
























FIN.

In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Velles 5th


Location: The Proving Grounds - Ersand’Enise
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 1:05 HD
Characters: Abdel Saqqaf Aziz @Force and Fury,
Evander @RezonanceV, Khaliun, Leander @Creative Chaos,
Ymiico @Salsa Verde, Yuliya @Suicharte






Flames, left in the wake of Evander’s and Abdel’s furies, danced throughout the arena, progressively lighting the dark skies above with an orange tint that made the black flames more noticeable. Of course, the mild fire was not enough to get all eyes on the South-Western portion of the city, not with most of the patrols taken care of. With such powerful blasts, said to be the weakness of the Sanguinaire, it would be to the group’s horror that the shadow emerged, seemingly unscathed by any of it, and stood facing them, "Oooh," he teased. "ouch." he was toying with all of them.

A curved line of white teeth glowed in the darkness of his cowl. "My turn."

The bloodsucker played along with the kids’ attempts to get him. Illusions and superior speed allowed the monster to make the battlefield his stage, and only the Gods would be his audience for all the living were merely the instruments - vulgar cogs - to his catastrophic plan. The levity of it all was perhaps a good sign for them, until Yuliya caught his attention. The Sanguinaire larvae struck “true”, decapitating the “Sanguinaire” with “blood” squirting about. Of course, it was all but a farce. The consequences were not.



Something like a hand reached out of nowhere. Only, Yuliya could neither see nor stop it. It took her by the neck and slammed her face-first into the ground. With blinding speed, she was lifted and rammed into it again.

And again …

And again.

"Rule one, infant: do not underestimate your quarry."

An enraged Khaliun immediately intervened. An attempt to noose the vampire’s neck with a concentrated ring of pure force was tightened around his neck. There is no restraint, with the Tethered’s wide and refracting eyes painfully focused on her one enemy.
"Oops!" came a response. "Pop goes muh head!" it popped off cleanly, squirting a little blood, executing a turn in midair, smiling, and rolled to a stop before her. "Guess I'm ded." It stuck out its tongue before disappearing. Khaliun was left unimpressed, but did not waste time questioning it. Taking advantage of the creature’s taunting, she sought to employ her blood magic to tend to her royal better-

As Khaliun approached, Yuliya's prone form exploded, spraying bits of blood and gore everywhere. When Khaliun instinctively flinched, she found that she was losing feeling up past her midsection, her chest, and into her fingertips! "Hue hue hue," laughed the Sanguinaire. "Why so serious, girl?" Left shocked and distraught, Khaliun just stared at the puddle of blood as the creeping feeling spread through her.

Leander emerged from his hiding spot and helped, along with Evander snapping from his illusionary bindings. Still, despite their best efforts, they were not even grazing the revolting affront to life itself that taunted them so confidently. That was until …

The Sanguinaire had a very clear weakness: Hubris. He was very much stronger and held powers that even made his natural weaknesses less reliable. His provocations of the Nobleman and the Merchant child as well as having dealt with Yuliya made him oblivious to the growing storm occurring right next to him. Feeling the power of Eshiran and Vashdal coursing through him, Abdel called upon six perfect morningstars of light. They blazed in the night sky like so many moons.

"Be cleansed in fire, demon!"

The morningstars hurtled towards the Sanguinaire and he bolted from his place, recognizing the real and present danger. The air itself seemed to waver as he left the confines of the colosseum, but he proved too slow and the colossal attack crashed down on the sanguinaire's new position nonetheless. "Ejjiran akbar!" Abdel bellowed, bounding up onto the arena's lip. A great plume of dust and smoke rose from the Sanguinaire's landing place, but no signs of sound or motion. Flames blazed and heat rolled off of the area.

Buoyed by the furious spirit of Eshiran, the paladin called upon a lance of fire and thunder from the heavens. Leaping down for the finish, he found himself halted in midair. A deep, frosty laugh emanated from the wreckage and a tall lean silhouette emerged from it, wreathed in ghostly white flames. He seized Abdel by the neck and squeezed.

"Die."

"Это моя добыча. Отъебись!"

The young Sanguinaire, once predating on the captured paladin, was now his saviour. A massive swing was brought down upon him, enough to make him lose interest in his prey and simply drop him. Abdel was freefalling twenty metres down, bringing Khaliun to go for a last second save. Ymiico and Yuliya held their own, but Khaliun was busy rescuing her ally, and wasn’t ready for the Kinetic fist that plucked her out of midair. "If I break your back," the Sanguinaire wailed, hysterical with laughter, "will it even matter?" He drove her into the ground to act as a brake for Abdel.

It was now clear that this monster was not going to let another slip-up like with the Darhannic Fireblood occur again. And despite peak performances from Leander, Ymiico and Evander, they couldn't even scratch the shadowy figure. However, play time was about to meet its end.

Approaching them, at an impossible speed from the north, came a gargantuan energy. Those conscious enough reached for their temples, grimacing, staggering, and even retching into the dirt and the ruins. Even the Sanguinaire winced. But, after a moment, he smiled.

A great, toothy grin.





It had arrived within moments: a supernova of energy, burning and blinding. People had no choice but to flinch away, to shield themselves; they were compelled to. The Sanguinaire, busy making sport of biros, quickly found his smile fading and he snarled from beneath his cowl. Lips chapped and skin cracked. The water in the fountain and the lead coating on ruined roofs boiled away. So fantastic was the heat that timbers smouldered and fires flared spontaneously from nothing. Clearly audible was the hungry hiss and snap of the flames that wreathed the silhouette at the centre. It was a woman. Her presence was overwhelming - humbling - for, in it, night became day and demons turned to dust. She was the Sun.

“You will depart,” she commanded, “Or you will die.”

In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay








Velles 5th


Location: Torragonese Desert - The Dragon: Burdensome Beasts
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 2:XX HS
Characters: Ayla @Ti, Desmond @Th3King0fChaos
Isabella @Pantothenic, Jocasta @Force and Fury, Marceline
Nazih @Ziegenkonig, Woren, Zarina, Zeinab, Diego





“Let’s get this party rolling!”

Wailed a cloth-covered tall teen before a duo of desert Halassa that didn’t seem to mind her presence. On board one, the male of the two, was Woren with proper precautions taken that Zarina would forgo at the start of the race: She wanted it all to feel natural, with all the risks, until the final line. Their strategies were well-established with the Hegelan, an educated high merchant that embraced new ideas, attentive to his teammate’s experiences with animals and the biome. The Virangish beastwhisperer was going to handle coordination of the animals and lead the way, while Woren’s massive RAS served as a means to defend themselves and attack adversaries.

“Ah, the swimmers have started.” she remarked as a distant trumpet announced the beginning of the Dragon. Zarina approached her own Halassa and rested a gentle hand over the beak. The stubborn but generally docile beast closed its eyes, looking appeased, “You look nice and ready, Zeinab. Hmmm? Yessss,” she began giving scritches just under the eye of the creature, where the skin was particularly dry, “and you too, Diego. You pretty boy.” she seized a thick piece of cheap porc from a bag on her back and tossed it over to the male Halassa who promptly lunged his neck toward the treat and engulfed it entirely in its beak, “You too, love.” Zeinab was giving expectant eyes to Zarina with her mouth parting a little big. She too got a treat before Zarina hopped onto her new steed.

The first leg didn’t last long, with the winning teams getting a head start. Zarina pouted, “C’moooon Jomurr you slow turd.” six seconds in and finally they could go. A light kick on the shell and they were off. Well, Zarina was but Woren struggled a little. Diego ended up following close behind Zeinab. They were not going as fast as they could, of course, but they were going at a steady pace which was more than could be said about the vast majority of others. There were some like Jocasta that simply rushed with sheer power, and those were hard to sabotage for Woren. As such, he focused more on keeping the manageable ones at bay with properly aimed stones near the eyes of the beasts to scare them while keeping guard.



A Froabas descended upon them! But they were ready. Woren’s immense capacity served them well as the dragon would be completely repulsed by a kinetic blast from a singular palm strike. Nonetheless, both Diego and Zeinab instinctively recoiled into their shells. Zarina had to act. “Hey, babies. The big bad’s gone!” she whispered to her Halassa, eventually calming it and then extended that same treatment to Diego after a quick dismount. After that experience, Woren opted to conjure blinders to better shield their eyes from distractions.



Next was a tunnel, although before they got there, Woren began to draw from the heat and form a steaming ball of ice that cooled the air around the duo and levitated over them, “Ah goh me an idea! ” he exclaimed as he brought cool air to them, but this white ball of fresh goodness also had the perk of emitting light as they entered the dark and spooky tunnel. The Halassa were not as disoriented as a result, although they were not particular fans of the claustrophobic nature of such an area either. It’d take a lot of convincing from Zarina to get them to move at a regular pace!

Both participants had agreed that the tunnel section was their best bet to find treasure, and it seemed Nazih had the same idea in a nearby tunnel, “‘Ey, Firraz!” she shouted in crude Avincian before addressing him in Inipori, “لا تريد فتاة المدينة أن تدعي النصر على الصحراء ، أليس كذلك؟” (You don't want a city girl to claim victory over the desert, do you?) she laughed loud enough for it to echo through the cave. Her minor taunting was cut off when something caught her eye, however, “Calmate.” she ordered the Halassa to take a break. Within a fissure on a stone wall, she caught the lightest glimpse of something reflecting light from the ball of frost. It was a chest! Albeit the passage was a bit too narrow to get there quickly. As such, Zarina left a piece of cloth on a nearby stone as a beacon before heading getting back to the race.



Woren had also spent some time searching, and his effort would only be rewarded at one of the secret exits of the cave, further East from the one most found, “Zez!” he called out for his partner, “This’n ouh key t’win!” indeed, they had lagged behind and the one she had previously taunted was quite a ways ahead. As such, she took this opportunity and had her Halassa pass the gold-coloured flag that signalled a “Major Boost”. Upon seizing the flag, the stone under Zeinab began to levitate, surrounded by strange runes, and began flying at great speeds through the track. Passing by a large cactus at the optimal altitude for the Virangish rider to simply pluck it out via telekinesis, “Weeeeee!”

Zeinab was thoroughly unimpressed.



Consequently, this boost would make the cliff climb somewhat trivial for Zarina and her mount, although Woren would still be left behind to deal with it himself. This was fine, though, as he had the abilities and RAS to break the obstacles. Plus, he had the PERFECT position once at the peak to begin harassing those that were contesting Zarina’s position in the first place. A lot of kinetic blasts to flip the tortoises and blood-created obstacles. Ayla in particular would meet a giant, sandstone wall before her Halassa, “Seng less gurl, quit makin’yer audience fall asleep!” Zarina burst into laughter even from where she was.



Jocasta’s struggle was a sight to behold, “Hey, Jo! Think fast!” a piece of meat was hurled near the Tethered’s uncooperative mount. It immediately went for the snack with no desire to comply with her demands, “What a cutie! I hope you gave it a nice name.” Zarina stuck her tongue out as she continued to proceed with Zeinab. She was indeed putting herself at risk with a little bit of tomfoolery with Jojo, but then there was Woren who definitely had her back with a monstrous RAS of his own.

Zarina wasn’t finished with her reign of terror, however. Next was Isabella and her duo of Halassa, with one breaking off and consequently slowing her down, although with the lead her team had she still contested the first spot. And so, a little bit of tortoise tipping was in order! The same went for Desmond, although as a more mobile individual, he wouldn’t be as impaired as a Tethered. And finally, there was Nazih. Zarina was consistently fighting with his mount for the head of the race, “قد تعرف الصحراء ، لكنني أفضل صديق لحلاسة!” (You may know the desert, but I'm a Halassa's best friend!) she grinned confidently before really pushing her Zeinab in those last fifty meters. The dragons up above were no issue with Woren’s sacrifice of positions for assistance. The big beasts were going full-speed with their big, clumsy legs.



“Yes yes yes yes yes yes …”

So close! This was going to be tight. But with all the preparations she had made with Zeinab and her abilities as an animal whisperer of sorts, Zarina pulled through just enough to gain a second on her fellow Darhannic, “YEAAAAAHHHHH!” she screeched, arms ripped out of her stony safeties to wave in the air. After a brief celebration on the shell, she hopped off her beast and rewarded it with a yummy treat. Before long Woren would arrive with a modest but decent standing.

“Good game, Mister Firraz.” she smiled and winked at Nazih’s direction. Her attention, after mellowing from her victory high, was on the animal she had stressed for this race. Many pets and scritches followed with little worry given to the next race. Augusto and Talkhan were going to do just fine. The Dragon was fun and all, but only one thing was on her mind after finishing the race: The Treasure in the Cave …

Next up: The Secrets of Zaqhoria! Witness Zarina and her friends discover the dark past of Zaqhoria lost deep within the sands of Torragon! What they will find will shock them for life. Coming soon …

In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay











Velles 5th


Location: The Cathedral Square
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 5:30 HE
Characters: Brother Wolf, Silas @Tackytaff



The Cathedral Square was always a quiet district at the later hours of the day, and yet was one of the only places left open in Ersand’Enise that wasn’t a Tavern deep into the hours of Ipte. A sanctuary for all - That’s what the house of the Pentad was known for, and during the trials it served as a makeshift home for the envoys of the Holy Sees. In truth, they likely would not have denied hospitality to other teams in need, but the presence of two particularly intimidating groups inhabiting the otherwise relatively ascetic establishment left little to be desired next to the accommodations made by the Academy.

Silas had a unique talent that made positioning a luxury he could easily afford. The walls of the Cathedral wouldn’t hold many secrets from him, although the details of those within the confines of the building remained an abstract notion to him as was the colour of the walls right before him. He counted eight people, with three of them sleeping in distinct rooms in the upper floors of the Cathedral. One sat before a desk and busied themselves with scripture and one was content with sitting on a pew at the base floor. Two were also lying down on the roof of the holy building, their attention directed to the heavens - maybe they were sleeping too. A final one was pacing the halls whilst holding what appeared to be a candle.

It was all rather drab for a good twenty minutes. But then the young Icevein would feel a general numbness course throughout his body. It was like a flash, as if he had fallen asleep standing up but instantly woke up. He felt refreshed the same way one would feel after a power nap. Time did not appear to have passed, though, as the leaves being blown by the warm, Dorrad wind were still making their way from one bench to another. Maybe the Dragon had exhausted him a little too much?

And then suddenly he realised: There were only seven accounted for in the Cathedral. The one sitting on the pew had vanished completely. Looking around him, Silas would only see more silhouettes in different buildings and the occasional passerby. Then, he felt yet another numbness - a disconnect from the world around him.

“Good evening.” a masculine voice called to Silas’ right. It came from a tall silhouette that slowly approached him from the intersection behind the Cathedral, “Have you found what you were looking for, young Powergazer?” he entered the light cast by a nearby lamp. Arms behind his back and his attire unchanged since the trials. Silas’ blessed sight wavered ever so slightly, and only for a brief moment, as he distinguished the form and voice of the individual. He was smiling.

It was him. The man on the paper. The Dread Priest himself.



Velles 5th


Location: Merchant Dormitories
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 5:30 HE
Characters: Brother Lamb @Force and Fury, Colin the Mobster, Desmond @Th3King0fChaos, Trypano @A Lowly Wretch



The initial group separated, whether to get a bigger cut of the prize or to cover more grounds, it was hard to say with the specimens that would take this sort of clandestine job. Silas headed West for the Cathedral, while Desmond suggested East toward the Merchant Dormitories. He was accompanied by the prodigious scholar Trypano in this nightly search for the patrolling priest. The gunslinger’s status as a lamplighter would certainly help in the unlikely circumstance they would be caught outside during curfew. Although, even as the hours of Dami were drawing near, the streets still had quite a bit of traffic, many of which were foreigners visiting for the trials.

Both had to keep their eyes peeled, as it would be easy for a trained envoy of the Church to vanish in such crowds and narrow alleys, especially with what Desmond had witnessed it was clear that Brother Lamb was no pushover. Luckily for them, the herd of people milling about in the streets was growing thinner, allowing for them to get a glimpse of a piously dressed man looking up at one of the dormitories. He was just standing there, fixated.

Before the duo could do anything or get made by their odd target, a trio of men stood in their way. The one in the middle, an average-sized older man with a severely balding hairline, had his hands in his pockets whilst grinning at the sight of Desmond in particular. The other two were burly men with the hygiene one would expect from a mudville goon, both of which held metal pipes with one tapping his palm with the end of the weapon, “Ah, there y’are! Almost thought you’d skip town with all ‘em winnins’, Desmond.” he spat down toward the Magusyaeger’s boot, “Now’s time to pay, or my boys here will be takin’ our rightful pound o’flesh. Get me?” he tilted his head while giving the teen the stink eye.

”Hey, Colin, that’s the bet guy?” called out one of the nearby shop owners.

“That’s ‘em, Aster.” the business owner grimaced in anger as he came in to join the growing mob. Word spread quickly, and now Desmond was made to realise that the Zeno Bucks fight had taken place around this area. Some students emerged too, most shrewd merchant kids that wanted their rightfully earned winnings. Before long, they would be surrounded, with a few definitely capable with the gift, “Now, Desmond, give us the dough or we start by makin’ the big bitch squeal, yeah?” he nodded in the direction of Trypano.

Something bad was about to happen. They did not seem like the type to take any excuses as a valid defence for not getting one’s face bashed in. But just as an inevitable escalation was about to occur, a voice called out that appeased the tension.

“Enough.” Brother Lamb stood tall behind Colin the mobster, “Who d’you think you are, bu-” he froze. Even the locals knew who the hounds of the Holy See were. Colin swallowed his words and piped down.

“This is a matter that falls onto the duties of the Lindrian Order.” he stated calmly while stepping closer to the circled duo. The growing mob stepped aside to let the Dread Priest pass, “Please, return to your homes.” Lamb turned his head to address the general populace with a patient smile on his face, “I will make sure the aggrieved parties are properly compensated.” and the people complied with the head mobster leading the rabble by stepping away, “Reshta favour you all.”

Brother Lamb then looked down at Desmond with adamant and cold eyes, “Desmond Catulus. You are hereby ordered by the Lindrian Order and the Holy See of Varennes to surrender the earnings of those who participated in your bookkeeping services.” he ordered whilst giving Trypano a singular side glance when he finished, “As well as pay a fine of eight incantors.”


In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Velles 5th


Location: The Proving Grounds - Ersand’Enise
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 1:00 HD
Characters: Abdel Saqqaf Aziz @Force and Fury, Evander @RezonanceV, Khaliun, Leander @Creative Chaos, Leon @Animus, Ymiico @Salsa Verde, Yuliya @Suicharte





Muffled sounds of metal clashing could be heard progressively better as the scouting team roamed near the colosseum. Evander and Ymiico, having opted to climb for a better vantage point, would notice the conspicuous lack of lighting - not only in the arena but also the entirety of the streets surrounding the Proving Grounds. If the gluttonous nature of the Sanguinaire’s recent drinking spree wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the premeditated nature of this whole set up was a powerful red flag to those with any sense. Right over an awning, the two with the highground could witness two shadows going at it over the sands. The sounds remained unnaturally distorted and muffled.

Yuliya, Khaliun and Abdel remained at ground level, the former two out of caution while the latter was quickly convincing himself to barge through the opened gate. ”Wait.” ordered Khaliun to the fired up Abdel. The hooded Vossoriyan sentry turned her head to the left, down the road that circled the grand arena. With a snap of her fingers, she revealed three armoured bodies hidden in the darkness by a statue with a fleeting light ball. They were alive and without any sort of neck wound. ”It is trap.” Khaliun warned, But why all this? the brief silence was broken by Abdel, ”No more waiting, this fiend has hurt enough people!” he rushed into the tunnel. ”Do not follow him.” Khaliun ordered Yuliya as she slowly slipped on a pair of white fur gloves. She didn’t move from her spot.



The Two shadows that stood in the battleground were going at it with speeds that would be hard to follow even with perfect visibility. One was a cloaked figure whose features were hardly distinguishable. If anything, the air around that being appeared almost distorted and straining to the eyes of those that focused too long upon it. The other was an armoured and well-built man with a weapon that could easily be identified as a Langxian. The way he moved and the shape of his armour resembled the elite warriors from Engyu. His stance suggested a strong defence, but he never hesitated to seize the initiative against the being that danced with him. And such brazen offence awarded the Century a direct hit onto the shadowy figure. As visceral as the strike seemed, however, it only appeared to stagger it for a mere second before it moved as if nothing had happened.

With enough attention given to the entirety of the field, those with the vantage point or great reading skills such as Khaliun could pick up on the body left on the sand a good twenty metres away from the two fighters. The clash continued with the century’s armour saving him more than once from the speedy strikes of the alleged Sanguinaire, and in turn another strike was dealt. The mysterious being was repulsed a few feet back and brushed his cheek. Then, the Engyan warrior stomped onto the sand and bellowed a furious roar to blast his foe away. It was loud, but not loud enough for how powerful the blast was - strong enough to make the stone under Evander’s and Ymiico’s feet rumble. And then suddenly the figure was gone. As if they had never existed. There was no echo from the roar, only the crackling of dust and sand settling after the blast.



Behind the immovable warrior was a blurry mass of darkness that had merely tapped his shoulder. He became immovable even toward his own will, helpless to the inevitable drinking that was about to occur. Meanwhile, an exceptionally cold breeze of air brushed right behind Evander. It was as if he could feel a presence behind him the same way the Engyan warrior had just before succumbing to the Sanguinaire’s teeth. And yet the being they were staking out was down there, indulging. The Revidian High Noble would feel the lightest of taps onto his shoulder blade, and he was propelled right toward the arena where the fight had just taken place. Simultaneously to the fight’s unfortunate conclusion, Abdel, who had been keeping back with the bit of restraint he had left, snapped. ”أزله أنت الوحش!” (Unhand him you MONSTER!) the young, fiery paladin dashed forward with flames bursting from the soles of his feet and aimed to tackle the feasting creature.



There was one that wasn’t duped by the many veils that complimented the darkness of the night. Ymiico could see the world for what it was, whether by her own skills as a shinobi or by the will of the being that imposed this warping of perception she could not tell. However, while Evander and Abdel witnessed the Sanguinaire begin to syphon the fluid of life from the Century, she saw the cloaked being already dropping the body and looking straight at her. She could almost swear he was smirking. And then, with speed that greatly outshined even her’s, he was behind her high ground partner and simply shoved him into the arena. The entity, clearly male from his physique now that she could get a good look, stared her down, motionless with his arm still extended after the push.

The illusion had shattered the moment Evander was hurled and Abdel was at range to seize his enemy. It felt like reality itself literally shattered before them with only empty space meeting Abdel’s ire. The Revidian would end up crashing into the Firrazene boy, leaving both of them in the open, right by the unconscious body of the fallen Engyan fighter. ”اللعنة عليك! وحش قذر ...” (Blast it! Foul Beast …) Abdel groaned as he got back up, although Evander could hear none of it. He suffered a terrible case of tinnitus with his head ringing to a near-migraine. He was otherwise fine with Abdel and the sand softening his landing.

Wait, sand? There was no sand. There was no Abdel either. The armoured bodies of the fallen Century no longer appeared rugged and bloodied. No, they were dressed finely with an air of familiarity to them. His vision was still blurry from the landing as well as the incessant buzzing in his head. But as he slowly focused, he came to recognize the Duke Foscari, his own father, lying in a pool of blood with a Langxian planted in his back. Further away was another body, one wearing a traditional wedding dress that was tainted by a fresh layer of crimson. Staring right at him were the hollow eyes of Celestina, recently dead on a velvet carpet. The air around him felt stagnant - he was no longer outdoors. Evander was inside a home, not too different from his, although some of the architecture reeked of Perrench influence. There was also a conspicuous lack of furniture and the ceiling was abnormally high. There was a balcony right at the top with two figures, both looking down at him. One second the one to the left looked like his ally, Ymiico, and then the next it looked exactly like the other one: A hooded, black figure.

The fireplace was crackling and the heat, dull as it may be, could be felt by the young fireblood. It almost felt like a dream - It didn’t feel right, and yet the lucidity was lacking enough to make one willing to accept this as reality. A hand reached out to him, sliding over his shoulder. It was not the same touch as the illusionary foe that had hurled him. No, it was much more tender, ”Sebastian.” it whispered with a feminine voice.



The woman tilted her head as gazes met, and then flashed her hungry, white fangs at him. She was so close, he could feel her hot breath just ready to indulge in his coveted, fiery blood.

”Hey, you alright?!” Abdel had reached out for Evander’s shoulder, checking up on him after that rough landing.

”Sensemaster.” Khaliun kept herself in the shadows and looked up at Ymiico’s direction. Both the Sanguinaire and the Yasoi were up there, while both the Tethered and the Princess could keep discreet for the time being, ”Much stronger than yours.” she concluded, ”We should leave.”


In O R I F L A M M E → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Tales of Heroes - The Weasel and The Kitten

Battlefield at the foot of Mount Errant


INTERACTING: Queen Eleanor @Force and Fury Maerec @Dao Ma, Caelum @RezonanceV, Camille @Pirouette, Arsene @Th3King0fChaos, Hildr @jasbraq, Robért Bobignon @Suicharte
EVENT: Fields of Fire || LOCATION: Fields around Mount Errant




“Aller, prends-ça! (C’mon, take that!)”

Many wondered what Percival de Perpignan could truly do. Some speculated him to be the strongest man in Parrence, others called him out as a farce. Today he would display the extent of his skill. The Gehenna-class Monsigneus dragon had been left massively disoriented by a pinpoint essence strike from the noble pretty-boy, allowing for others like Maerec to gain ground in subduing the beast and offering a head start to the team, “Ne me décevez pas! (Don’t disappoint me!)” he called out to his troops, many of which died by the dozens, with only the more remarkable mages pulling through.

Percy’s long, blonde hair blew in the searing hot winds ushered in by the fiery breath of the dragon. It engulfed so much and killed so many. The slippery nature of the Stink Knight had saved him from the worst with little more than scrapes on his armour, and he even caved in to help Arsene in a time of need. The act of goodness to his fellow man had the universe give him the protection of his sister when the slime that had gotten him through the worst had run dry from the flames, “You did not need to do that, Eleanor!” he complains with an indignant look to his charcoal-stained face. The fight wasn’t over - Far from it, and their best troops were starting to fall.

It looked bad. The Queen’s defence was beginning to falter and mere men could hardly keep up with a force of nature. Even Percy in his delusions of grandeur began to admit to himself that this was potentially even beyond him. As things were getting worse, observant Thunder mages could begin to feel growing electrical tension in the air. Something was coming. Up above! A glimmer of golden light sparked above the thrashing Tyrannus and descended down upon it just as Maerec had been kicked off again. With a thunderous roar, it looked as though the very heavens had sent a yellow bolt of lightning as punishment to the Gehenna specifically. The creature was temporarily on the ground with electricity running through it, but the scales had clearly softened most of the impact.



A short, armoured Knight emerged from the intense smoke brought by the skyborn strike riding a comically large horse for their size that was also stacked with mail and armour. They bore a big shield on their left arm, and a spear on the other, the latter of which they would peer toward with a mere incline of their heavy helm, “Big and resilient.” they remarked in a metallic and deep voice, although not deep enough to make the sex behind the veil evident. The spear had been slightly bent and chipped from the strike which kept Sasha fixated for a moment whilst the beast rose back up and continued its onslaught.

Despite its growing aggression, its wounds were getting to it with Maerec de Solennes gaining significant ground on the beast. But as it stood, if they didn’t finish this quickly, the Parrench army was as good as dead even with the small reinforcements. Sasha intervened to save the one known as Caelum, hurling their spear toward the ground by the decommissioned paladin, prompting magnetic and blood magics to merge together and form a barrier to save him. Only a little more. Without a spear, Sasha could only help through Essence. And with just that, it would be enough to pacify the beast after a final, decisive strike from Hildr the Red to the dragon’s maw, giving a brief window of vulnerability for the squad to finish this.

What came after was the realisation of many that they had lost an obscene amount of manpower to stop this thing. There had to be a way to make up for it. The decision to tame the beast was made, with Maerec at the forefront. The survivors helped the best they could, with Camille, Sasha and Eleanor performing the final push to finally tame the beast, and Percy keeping a considerable chemical hold on it. The Gehenna was as tamed as a wild beast could be with Maerec as the one it recognised as the dominant human worthy of its respect. Still, that didn’t prevent Percy from indulging.

“Haha! A worthy steed for a dragon slayer such as Percival Perpignan!” Percy exclaimed as he hovered to the back of the beast with no resistance coming from it. After all, he had asserted himself very early on as a threat. Hildr had also earned particular recognition with her ballsy strike at the climax of the battle. The others, well, they had spoils to veer their attention toward. Sasha, without any hesitation or tact, immediately power walked in very loud metallic clangs toward one of the three eggs found in the dragon’s lair. They pocketed one, stared back at the group of men and women that had survived, and just returned among the group as if everything was normal. The same disconnect from others was noticeable when they just pulled the strange rod among the piles of treasure via magnetism before any sort of fair distribution could be made. It resonated well with their manas. They were going to keep it.

“Where is Asier?” the Kitten Knight, having the initial goal to find the King at Chamonix but got side-tracked by the dragon, addressed the question toward the most important person in the room: Eleanor. No introductions. No formalities. Just a loud, demanding voice. “How dare you, Tourrare!” Percival waved his rightfully acquired Scales of Dami to the horse rider whom he recognised the sigil of, “You are speaking to a Queen. Show proper respect, child.”

“Okay.” Sasha made a stiff turn toward Percy before they replied, and then turned back to Eleanor with the same, stiff awkwardness, “Where is Asier, Miss Queen?”





For the King - Thunderous Roar


INTERACTING: Ulfhild @Salsa Verde, Sweyn @Force and Fury, Rolfe Bobignon @Suicharte, Arcel
EVENT: Fields of Fire || LOCATION: The Plains near Chamonix


The Rearguard intercepts Hrothgar’s scouts, spearheaded by Ulfhild the Resilient, with Arnaud stepping up as the immovable wall of King Arcel. The clash is fierce, many of the executioner’s men die to repulse Ulfhild’s own. Ultimately, the seasoned ranger could barely even scratch the hulking man that is Arnaud. Slowly but sure, he gains the upper hand with indiscriminate and unrestrained force. Eventually, Ulfhild is brought to a knee and stares up at her inevitable fate. The axe is just above her with the shadow of Ahn-Eshiran herself cast upon her. But before the finishing blow could be dealt and Eleanor’s mistake rectified, a surge of lightning descends upon both as a form of divine intervention. A heavenly strike that came simultaneous to the one that befell the dragon many miles away.

Ulfhild is still hurt with a deep, bleeding wound on her chest, but it is neither fatal nor enough to subdue her. She is hanging by a string. And Sweyn Thunderspear entered the battle with Arnaud left to defend against the monster on his own. "I would say you had best retreat, big man," warns the eminent sorcerer, "but it would do you no good. This is where your story ends."

Arnaud snarls at the thunder wizard that interrupted his coup de grace. He doesn't move from his spot and stares down the much more powerful man straight in the eyes, "Le bras droit de Hrothgar arrive. (The Right hand of Hrothgar arrives.)" he bellowed as he stomped the pommel of his weapon onto the ground, causing the thick, red ichor on his axe's blade to drip down faster, "I have taken two of your elites already. Your words mean nothing, Thunderspear! You cannot stop me."

With malicious essence magic, Ulfhild is kept from healing for the time being and the two powerful men are left to clash one on one. Sweyn, with his immense power and speed, accomplishes what Ulfhild could not during the entire fight: Heavily wound Arnaud. And with a single arcane spear to the shoulder. Still, the Aheri doesn’t falter, but it allows for the ranger to recover without any hindrance.

"If you run now, to your pretty little king, I may let you live," Sweyn taunted, rising from the ground, arms crossed. The Aheri does not listen, and instead seeks to bury both of them with a powerful earthquake. An attack that both of them easily avoid, as Arnaud feels himself tired after the fiery impalement. "If you will not accept my mercy," Sweyn roars, "then you will die for your pride!" Eyes blazing with magical energies, he picks up the massive figure of Arnaud like a child's plaything and makes a squeezing gesture. Armour begins to crumple. Bones begin to snap. The agony is unbearable. A breath of fresh air entered her lungs. The pain was gone for the most part, still a bit delirious from the bludgeon. Thunderspear had bought her enough time to regain her composure and once again enter the fray. Seeing the Parrench soldier being squeezed like fresh citrus, bought her some joy. She unsheathed her sword and ran towards Arnaud hoping to deliver the finishing blow in the art of a skewer.

Ulfhild's strike is swift and sure. She dodges the roguish Rolfe Bobignon that had come to Arnaud’s rescue who emerges from the shadows and slices down towards Arnaud. By all rights, he should die. Then, her blade is yanked from her hand with incredible force and driven into the muddy ground a handful of yards away. Sweyn casts about immediately for another intruder, as does she, but none is to be found. It is as if the gods themselves have spared this man after having appeared to have condemned him.

He is ready to die. His duty is fulfilled. The Thunderspear is kept at bay, hopefully long enough for Parrench to regain an upper hand. But as the end was nigh, an inexplicable intervention stops this unceremonious conclusion. Arnaud chuckles at this turn of events. It wasn't the Gods that intervened. Or perhaps it was a God. Battered and weakened, he is on one knee and still facing down his enemies, "You will lose this war, Thunderspear. With or without me, Arcel will be victorious." he states with his strong accent, before ripping off the remainder of his armour and clothing on his torso, "Show me what you've got, little man." Rolfe de Bobignon rushes over to Arnaud after witnessing the miracle, and attempts to bind his broken bones back together. "Hold on, Ser! Je suis avec vous!"

Rolfe is severely burned by Ulfhild’s lava strike from below, nearly knocking him out. Arnaud roars in fury. Steam erupts from his being as he stares down the vastly more powerful side. There is little chance of him surviving, but upon seeing Bobignon being pushed to near death already for simply saving him, the Aheri removes all his restraints, "Now I fight as the Zuyr Aheri, Arun!" he growled, his axe tossed aside like it was disposable trash. No armour, no weapon, just his bare hands and incredible speed. He goes to finish what he started with Ulfhild, attempting to seize her with his bare hands.



Rolfe relegates himself to distracting Sweyn, while Arun goes to finish the job. With no armour and no weapon, he uses his hands to slash and smash through everything sent his way while taking any beating needed. Eventually, he does seize the battered woman and smashes her to the ground, readying her for a proper execution. There is no avoiding fate this time, and Ulfhild’s growingly notorious resilience could only go so far. As Arnaud readies his fist to obliterate the ranger’s chest and finish her, Sweyn comes to the rescue once more. His unfathomably massive power on full display.

The moment that he sees Arnaud pummel Ulfhild, Sweyn does not speak. He acts. Prizing her roughly from the giant's grasp, he sets her down on the round before bringing his hands together in front of himself. Seizing the man's arms and legs separately, the Thunderspear hoists him up into the air with naught but a gesture. Considerable strength: that is what the executioner fights his own execution with. It was this man who killed Olaf. It will be the old druid's former pupil who avenges him. Arnaud may be strong, but he is a bucket compared to an ocean when weighed against Sweyn. The sorcerer separates his hands and then it is Arnaud himself who separates. Ligaments and tendons rip and give way. Flesh pulls apart. Eyes bulge and blood gushes.

There is no smile on Sweyn's face, only a grim sort of satisfaction. The Aeresvaktr protect their own. His eyes bore into his victim as he stands there unflinching. Unflinching.... unmoving.

In fact, nothing is moving. The world goes still. Nobody and nothing budges.

For a moment, the only thing that moves it Sweyn's eyes. They narrow and he begins to strain. Another massive power starts to pull against his. Slowly, slowly, and then a little bit faster, the gaps between the five separate pieces of the king's executioner pull themselves back together. The figures in the background reset to earlier positions. Sweyn lets go and Arnaud, wounded but very much in one piece, collapses to the ground. The Eskandr's face looks panicked and he wastes no time lashing out with a colossal thunderbolt the very moment that swirling tear in the fabric of reality opens beside him. His target is none other than Arcel, King of the Parrench.

For all of the power in the bolt, it is absorbed and dissipated effortlessly by Arcel. "I will give you one chance: accept my mercy and leave this field to us now, or you will die here, Sweyn Thunderspear, butcher of Relouse."

Again, he was about to die, and this time in a fashion befitting an executioner and not a warrior. Arnaud was ready to let go, his body barely resisting the unfathomably powerful grip Sweyn had on him. As tough as he was, he screamed in pain from the tearing, but he kept an adamant glare on Sweyn.

Then, it all was undone. Somewhat. Arnaud was in terrible shape, but could still move with his whole body. His heart was killing him, very much tachycardic, but that wasn't going to stop this man, especially after being saved by his lord. Wordlessly, he stood by his king.

"Arnaud, good and faithful ally, you have more than done your duty," said the king. "But you are of no use to me dead or crippled. Take Sir Rolfe are join our army, posthaste. II trust a man of your caliber can still move. Alert them to this Eskandr trickery and send riders ahead to the city!"

Arnaud flinches, but then nods, "A vos ordres, votre majesté. (As you command, your Majesty.)" he wasted no time and Force-hopped to his destination with Bobignon carried along. His heart was about ready to let go, but he was going to at least complete this final order.

"Ulfhild!" called Sweyn. "Go join the Nashorn! I will hold this.... demon off for as long as I can. Bring our troops up. Send riders around to our King's force and we shall have him caught between us!"

"My turn," growled Arcel.

There was a blip: a moment when reality wavered. Nobody was quite certain what happened during it, but the two men stood there, locked in some sort of duel that nobody else could see, as other battles were fought and other people ran to prepare for something that this small action today was merely the harbinger of.
In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Velles 5th


Location: Merchants’ Quarters, Isabella’s Residence - Commoners' Dormitory
Day of the week: Lepdes
Time: 3:00 HS
Characters: Abdel, Isabella @Pantothenic

The Free City wasn’t just gorged with foreign students and their fierce supporters on this long week of intense trials, but also of many businessmen from around the world seeking opportunities and new trade lines. It was inevitable that Isabella’s budding endeavour would take this chance to get new fabrics with Abdel running as the errand boy while he could still make use of his legs. He had the rapport with his fellow tethered, allowing for an easy part-time job that paid well. With a set amount given to him by his boss, he acquired specific quantities and types within broad categories to carefully pack and deliver.

Snowsweeper wool from a Barthian trader and top Velvet from one of Carmillia’s own network of clothing lines, not that he knew this luxurious stall was run by a peer. The quantities were relatively restrained and fit in his messenger bag. Part way through the crowds eagerly waiting their turn to try out the foreign goods, Abdel stopped to rest his hand over his left calf to give it a little massage. The thought of participating in a race was not thrilling whatsoever, but he had to push through, at least for himself. He made it back to Izzy’s abode, finally, “Hello, Hola, Guten tag, I got it all!” he triumphantly waved his bag as he removed his shoes at the entrance and made his way to deliver the fabrics onto Isabella’s work table.

“Dude, there was this huge, sweaty beard guy holding out the wool.” he opened up as he laid out the white wool for his fellow Tethered to examine, “Guy just kept staring at me all off-like. So I stare back-” he illustrated the intensity of his glare. It wasn’t much. “So, he snarls ‘cause I’m not backing down. Give me the price of two magi for half of this! I was all like ‘Nah, Nah’,” he waved his hand in an exaggerated manner, “One Magi for four pieces. Final offer. We nearly duked it out but …” he rubbed his chin and grinned confidently, “Let’s just say he’ll know better than to deal with Abdel Varga next time.”

Obviously that never happened. Still, he did seem to get it for a decent price given the change he brought her back. There were likely other methods used, some not so brag-worthy, “So, meat. Why not just get regular meat from the butcher? You’d save yourself an Owl or ten.” he crossed his arms and half-sat at the edge of the robust table.
In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Velles 4th


Location: Merchant Dormitories - Zarina’s Quarters
Day of the week: Victendes
Time: 1:00 HD
Characters: Arlo, Riesco, Zarina



“Thanks, boys. I’d offer hot coffee but …” Zarina snickered at her joke as she waved the movers goodbye once they had installed the large, mammoth wool bed into her dorm “room”, which was more so a comfortable apartment, she had won in the auction. A lot had to be moved and the comfortable and oversized cushion took a lot of the living space, but it didn’t seem to perturb her whatsoever. There was also an unsigned portrait of Queen Eleanor made to hang on her wall, although it definitely came off as a placeholder.

The Virangish lass took some time to admire the new state of her temporary home with a glass of red wedged between her middle and ring fingers of her right hand. What a day it was, and she was feeling the exhaustion creeping into her for an early sleep. But before she could get too deep in self back-patting, a collection of clicks and calls directed at her came from the hanging bird cage she had near one of the windows. Arlo was frustrated - he did not get his evening snack! Fighting Yasoi and bidding massive coinage for beds and pieces of art would make anyone forget about responsibilities.

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed and put away her half-finished glass on the nearest surface, “at least say please, little man.” she stopped before the thin bars of the opened cage and shook her visage before it. Suddenly, a little, blue head emerged from the makeshift shelter inside of it. The chirping continued and wasn’t going to stop, “A kissie first.” she ordered. Arlo didn’t budge, not yet, “A kissie.” she tapped her nose and waited for a good minute. Like a cat, it seemed this little critter was taking his sweet time to be decisive. Eventually, he did crawl out and approached his master’s face, only to then rub his snout over the tip of her’s, and then go for a harmless bite on it, “There we go! Good boy.”

An already halved peach was seized from a cupboard and delivered to the reptile. It enjoyed its snack, and eventually returned to its abode for a scheduled sleep. Next, Zarina was reminded of her next child she had to tend to: Riesco. He had gotten proper treatment in the morning, but she could do better. A descent to the stables would have her meet with the Camargue horse, calmly resting over hay with his ears perking at her arrival. He recognized her steps and was quick to stand and greet his friend, “Hey you.” she cooed, hands quick to venture through his mane as she stepped into his pen. Riesco was well brushed and clean barring from the hay stuck to him. The pen, however, could be better with filth left at the back, “دعنا نجهزك للنوم ، أليس كذلك؟ (Let’s get you ready for sleep, yeah?)” she seized a broom and got to work.

The horse’s little home was cleaned and the old way replaced with a fresh pile for him to indulge in, “Noisy day, huh?” she kept speaking in Virangish, “Loads of new people. Kind of made me anxious at the start too.” Riesco shuffled about to give his rider some space to manoeuvre, “But that wasn’t so bad.” she passed her hand over his side and slowly brushed through his grey and white fur, “I got kind of scared today, though.” she confessed, and he turned his head at his friend’s change of tone, “I don’t have the best of feelings about what’s to come. Something just-” she reached out to Riesco’s snout and let him sniff. No treats, which prompted him to frisk Zarina a little with more sniffing and lip flapping, “doesn’t seem right.” he then made chewing motions while she rested her forehead on his, “Good night, my sweet.” and with a kissie good night, she left her horse with a clean pen.

Back to her residence, Zarina briefly paused to notice a good dozen of armoured individuals march through the bigger streets. Strange, and only increased her worry. She took a warranted bath given all that she had gone through that day. Afterward, a prayer. Her bedroom wasn’t too big with a relatively large wardrobe, a queen sized bed and a night stand. And, of course, an end table with both her Froabas eggs placed with custom-made incubation kits that kept them safe, warm and exposed to the sun during a good portion of the day. She prayed before the eggs over a carpet she unrolled from under her bed. A brief but important ritual, before she collapsed onto her bed from exhaustion.





Velles 5th


Location: Some Tavern
Day of the week: Lepdes
Time: 5:00 HS
Characters: Augusto, Desmond @Th3King0fChaos, Jomurr @Force and Fury, Kaspar @Wolfieh, Yuliya @Suicharte, Zarina, The Hegelans



“BLEEUUUGGGHHH!”

Zarina was sick as a dog, huddled in a corner of a tavern after having ingested one too many mana concoctions from their new teammates. It started fine with her capitulating to peer pressure and masterfully taking a prime shot. But the second … She never thought she could unleash that many fluids in such a small span of time. Still, in her zeal to not be one-upped, she went for another shot, and vomited the entirety of her half-digested breakfast and the manas in her stomach. Loads of wheezing and moaning could be heard as she continuously barfed out yet more bile.

”Never took you for a lightweight, Al-Nader.” teased Jomurr with a smirk. He had no issues keeping his shot in, and wasn’t foolish enough to go for more, “Fuck. You.” she turned her head and flipped him off, “Awh shit …” she quickly aimed for the bucket again and let nature do its thing. Waves became spittles and eventually she emerged. Sweaty, pale and seeing double, she stumbled toward a table and seized the first drink she could find.

It was a basic mana brew, accidentally left by one of her new teammates. It was too late to stop her, she was going to wash the awful taste out of her mouth one way or another. It was entirely downed before she could even process the taste. Everyone froze and just stared at her, ready to take cover. Zarina was standing stiff, eyes wide and her hands over her tummy. ”She’s gonna blow!” called out one of the bar patrons.

“Burp.”

She felt a tad refreshed. The foul, acidic taste was replaced by an equally foul but cool one that didn’t burn her throat. The energy that coursed through her from the increased mana count definitely helped too, “Okay. So!” she clapped her hands together to get her team’s attention as some emerged from their hiding spots. Her eyes shifted left, and then right, before an infantile grin took form, “Back to it.” she seized the nearest shot and offered it to Desmond.

Poor Desmond.





Velles 5th


Location: The Grand Plaza
Day of the week: Lepdes
Time: 2:00 HE
Characters: Arlo, Casii @Pirouette, Maura @Ti, Zarina



“What in Eshi’s …”

Zarina overheard quite a few fellow students pipe up over the news of a cooking contest of all things. Something about a Perrench Marquis, a rare meat and cash to be made. It was only when the Snowsweeper, a notoriously endangered species from the South, was mentioned that the Virangish businesswoman took interest in the notion. It was her break from the post-trial Zeno Bucks shift after all. She butted in and attempted to peek into one of the few fliers around, “Give me that.” she snagged the paper from the Perrench boy and took a read while giving her apron a few brushes with her idle hand.

“Rare and big game hungry assholes. Great.” she folded the paper and tossed it back over to the not-so-happy kid she took it from, “And wants us to do a cook-off. Sounds like broke nobility wanting to make a comeback.” she sighed as she reached over to her shoulder where Arlo, her Blueberry dragon, emerged from her mane and peeked out. Little scritches were graciously offered to the critter and in turn it responded with purr-like clicks and a few “Mep”s.

More students seemed intrigued by this news, and a couple of familiar faces could be distinguished from the crowd. Well, a face and a chair for one of them. “You don’t suppose either of you are qualified enough to be considered a butcher or a cook are you? Because that job is gleaming with opportunity”. inquired Maura as Zarina entered the small group with Casii being involved as well, “If you do, then we have the skill, and my resources to exploit this for all it is worth. Want to partner up?” the Virangish teen crossed her arms whilst Arlo took flight to circle over the group. He looked a little overwhelmed by the number of people gathering in the plaza.

“Opportunity? You wanna off and cook a Snowsweeper, Maura?” and then she squinted before leaning in a little, “Good on you to join the school, by the way.” no smile, no fluctuation in tone, just slightly pursed lips as she greeted the wheelchair-bound girl. Arlo would end up landing on Maura’s shoulder and sniffle through her hair, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve no desire to do that.” she peered over at the Yasoi and glared, “However I know she wouldn’t hesitate to grind and mangle creatures for obscene purposes.” she exhaled aggressively from her nostrils.

“Tell you what, though. As Ayla’s good friend, I’ll hear you out. If only to prevent this one from killing thirty animals for fun.” Zarina crossed her arms with a stiffer posture adopted, “I can do butchering - I’ve done that quite a bit when travelling. Just don’t expect me to slaughter all willy nilly.”

In O R I F L A M M E → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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