Rise of the Ascendants

Rise of the Ascendants


In a new beginning, you have a chance to ascend to the ultimate place: godhood. Do you dare rise to the challenge, and take up the crown?

389 readers have visited Rise of the Ascendants since Lobos created it.


The Court was silent, empty. Not even a breeze passed through the realm, the ornaments adorning the scene still, unmoving. Etherial mists swirled about the floor, caressing the empty thrones that belonged to the masters of the Court. It was eerie to behold the scene, for this was no mere court of mortals. This was the realm of the gods, one of the four Courts of the gods themselves, and yet, their keepers were absent. Gone, lost in the wars that had torn Jhenabackis for centuries now. Only the guardians aspected to each still remained, dormant, but ready to challenge those who would come. For they knew their masters were gone, tossed to the wind. But new ones were soon to come, and they would be challenged, to be proven worthy of ascending the highest mortals could ascend to: gods.

Jhenabackis was far from still and silent. The Ancient Wars had just ended, the elder races utterly destroyed. Now, the survivors are consolidating themselves, struggling to form new civilizations out of the wake of their slavery. While most are content to rebuild and dismiss the old times from their minds, some remain that were clever and cunning enough to note the absences in the pantheon. And these are those ambitious enough to see themselves atop the thrones, any throne, so long as it meant power.

Immerse yourselves in a world of strife and conflict, of alliances and betrayal. Magic and weapons abound, and you are the pawns in this game of chess. But as all pawns can, you can become much more, even more than the game usually would allow. For you can become king, can become queen, taking the highest throne of a Court for your own, and thus, becoming the gods and goddesses of the people. Do you dare to display your power, your courage, your wisdom, and strike for the thrones? Or will you be the pillar, the mortal power of those who ascend? Now is the time to decide, now is the time to become more than you ever dreamed.

Welcome to the rise of the Ascendants.


The Four Courts
There are four Courts of the panteon, each aspected in its own way, and each with its own unique structure. These are not restrictions to the magics of each, simply main paths from which the others branch. Each level is equal to the level of the same in another Courts, though only the first two places are true godhood. The last two places are ascendants, immortal to time and gifted by the power of the gods and goddesses. They are as follows:

Court of Light

Court of Darkness

Court of Air

Court of Earth

The Thrones
Mysterious Unaligned places of Ascendancy, these will be added when all places within the Courts are taken by those willing. If there are empty places within the Courts, yet they are unable to be filled, the Thrones will also be added.

The Mortal Races
The races of Jhenabackis are unique, each born of the area where they originated. They can now be found spread across the world, mixed in with the different races and cultural groups of the areas. While some are rather normal, others are wildly variant in their appearance.

Jhenans are quite basic, essentially human in all they are. The most common of the races, they are rather weak in comparison, with the unique benefit that the highest number of adept mages comes from their numbers.

Sercians are humanoid in appearance, but possessed of taloned hands and wings. Lightweight yet surprisingly strong for their slight appearance, they are the second rarest race of Jhenabackis. They produce the second most common amount of adept mages of the races, most of their magic wielders being no more capable than a few simple tricks.

Umbrals are shadow dwellers, pale skinned individuals with rodentlike qualities to their appearance. Shorter and squatter than other races, they are very strong, and masters of the arts of weapon and armor crafting. Rarest of the races, they produce the lowest among of mages, but these are the strongest of all the races.

Cronacs are the brute race of Jhenabackis. Heavy, large and crocodillian in appearance, they posses no ability for magic without using an enchanted item. However they are gifted with extreme strength and resilience, and rumor has it they were bred as such by the elder races. Third most common race.

The Sea Tribes are the second most common race, virtually human but for their webbed feets and hands, and gill system. Almost exclusively found in the coastal regions, they produce the second lowest number of mages, but their proficiency in the arcane arts is a variable thing.

Paths of Magic
There are 8 Paths of magic in the realm of Jhenabackis, each able to be drawn upon in forms of spells and enchantments. In addition, they can also be traversed as realms to move quickly throughout the world, but to enter these gateways into the Paths, you must pass through the correct aspect. For example, to enter the realm of fire, you must pass through fire. They are as follows:

Life - Death - Light - Darkness - Fire - Water - Air - Earth

Underlined Paths are aspected to the Court of Light.
Italisized Paths are aspected to the Court of Darkness.
Bolded Paths are aspected to the Court of Air.
Normal Paths are aspected to the Court of Earth.

1. Characters may NOT be created in a position of the Courts. You want the places, you work for them.
2. Only 1 Path of magic may be selected. Collecting another soul of a mage using another path, however, would allow you to access the other Path.
3. Please create a detailed character for the roleplay. Simple descriptions will not be approved.

Toggle Rules

1. Be respectful of your fellow RPers. Treat them with the respect that you expect.
2. Be literate, please. One paragraph is minimum, but it would be preferred if you wrote more in your answer.
3. Prolonged conflict and dialogue is to be done in chat if possible. Save logs and then post a summary of events that allows the rest of us to read what occurred. Exceptions will be made on a case to case basis.
4. Romance is to be expected in some forms. Keep it clean. Suggestions to steamier activities can be made, but explicit material is against both the rules of this RP and the rules of the site. You are warned.
5. No godmodding. Period. You will be removed and your character slain.
6. Have fun, people!


Characterization: Advanced Plot: Advanced Depth: Advanced Style: Advanced Mechanics: Advanced Overall: Advanced
Tiko wrote:It is too early in this roleplay to really see where this will be heading. However the introduction is well written out and eye catching. It serves to not be too over written while also capturing the feel and setting of the story in an almost inspirational manner. It doesn't just explain the story, it makes you want to strive forward to reach the conclusion. The initial posts that I have seen are of excellent writing quality and skill as well. With a bit more character activity and involvement this roleplay has the makings of an excellent story.

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 7 authors


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#, as written by Lobos
The dawn of the Second Age. Jhenabackis is a devastated wasteland, only beginning to heal from the centuries of strife and war. The Uprising had been a mixed success, freeing the mortal races from the tyranny of the Elders, yet sparking the earth shattering cataclysm of the Ancient Wars. The full powers of the old gods had been revealed, the cunning and hatred of the mortal races had been revealed. The Elders had been desperate in their defense, yet all that they could do was not enough. One by one, the old gods were dragged from their places and slaughtered, the Elders hunted to utter extinction, leaving behind only their legacies of sacrifice and slavery. Finally though, the chaos ended. And the mortal races, the numerous Jhenans, the aerial Sercians, the sunken Tribes of the Sea, the fearsome Cronacs, and the shadowed Umbrals have begun to recover, their decimated state giving way to the fervor of rebirth.

The Pantheon stands empty, vacant of the old, terrible gods that once claimed the thrones to reign their servants. Life, Death, Air, and Earth, their Courts were left abandoned places held only by the mysterious guardians of each. Etherial winds whispered through the abandoned realms, gifting their touch to the dark mists that marked their ruined states. Life was a palace who's light shone no more, Death a hell the fires of which have been extinguished. Air a cloud turned stormy, Earth a valley twisted into a nightmare. Faint wraiths tore through the Courts with reckless abandon, hissing and haunting the holy places turned damned. All of this, simply awaiting the arrival of new masters come to claim the thrones, come to stake their lives, their strength, their cunning, their very souls in the ultimate gambit to attain godhood.

And all was as such in the world...


A hammer struck hot iron, sparks flying to strike the heavy leathers of the workman. The cave was stifling, almost unbearable for any of the races, yet the master smith held to his post. Glittering eyes peered from the darkness, shrewdly noting every part of the forging, whispered words flowing from his mouth to invoke the powers of the Earth path. Slowly but surely, the blade took form, every detail refined and sharpened until one could simply feel the beauty and power that the finished sword would have. It was hours into the making of this weapon, and soon, the smith would be finished. There was but the chilling and consecration left.

The master smith took up the sword with tongs, taking it to the chilling vat. He squinted at the arcane regulators before him, twisting a valve to let the flood of chilled mountain wolf's blood spill into the vat. This sword was to be the blade of the king, and the smith knew the power that a blood-thirsted weapon held. He dipped the searing iron into the vat, speaking the words of magic that would harden the blade beyond comprehension. His pride came from his work, gifted with the title of Hood's Iron, that it's wielders boasted was better even that Felgrand Steel. The blade finished, the smith removed his workman's clothes to finish the consecration.

Pharon Hood revealed his rodent features as he shed his leathers, a hairless, skinny tail, long-fingered, clawed hands, a rat's face, mouth lined with dagger-teeth. He drew the blade before him, placing an etching tool on his right index finger, scoring the glyphs of the king along both flats of the sword. Yet, even as he worked, the master smith smiled with the knowledge he had come to possess. It was his skill, his mastery within his art and Path, that had shown him the target of his next great ambition. Like others no doubt awakening to their deepest, darkest desires, he had uncovered the vacancy of the Courts, and even now, he reached for the fabled place of Obelisk within Earth.

Ringing the bell overhead, Pharon called his runner, Gnaw. The young Umbral came sputtering up to him, earning his a sharp slap between his ears. Handing the sheathed and wrapped sword to the boy, the master smith hissed, his voice laced with the malevolent promise of a failed task. "Take thisss sssword to the king'sss chamberlin. Do not ssstop for anything or anyone, and do not fail me." The runner took off, heeding indeed the advice of his master. He would scuttle straight to the self-proclaimed Jhenan king, delivering what had cost a fortune to be made. Of course, his way would be guarded, Umbral assassins under Pharon's utter command ensuring the delivery of the package.Pharon smiled, entering his study. Before him lay the tools that would aid his ascension to godhood, and all that he waited for now was for the delivery to be made. And then, the journey would begin.


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#, as written by ElRey
The scene was quiet, early morning in a village to small to have a name. A vast, seemingly endless forest bordered the waters edge, a natural barrier against those that would seek to harm the peaceful community. After a weeks worth of threats, the clouds had finally dropped their payload last night, the river's clay banks struggled to contain the muddy brown water. Still, young sea tribe frolicked at the waters edge, diving below the surface and catching small crustacean which futilely attempted to hide in the rocky crags at the bottoms of the rushing water. Several adult sea tribesmen toiled in the minuscule fields and farms, though certainly Sea Tribe were new to the idea of farming and little produce grew well in the dense clay soil of their home.

In the midst of the stilted tents which made up the town, a character distinctly out of place. An old Sercian hobbled down the steps, leaning heavily on a cane. His lone wing at stark contrast to the crippled stump on the other side. He smiled kindly as he watched the children play in the water, thinking to his days of racing his fellows through the air, catching lightning bugs in the starry night sky. The mortal races weren't so different, he had decided, there would be peace, one day.

The grizzled Sercian turned his eyes skyward, drinking in the sunlight. Wishing he could swoop into the air and taste its rays up close one last time. It was beautiful here, and to perceive the scene would be to assume death was not so near at hand. The scattering of a large flock of birds would have been the first indication, followed by the dead silence of the entire forest. By the time the old Sercian was alerted by a harsh, frozen wind which surged through stilts, it was far too late.

Le'Shaa was the first to come roaring out of the dense foliage, a wicked grin on his face and a terrifying bellow emanating from his lips. Behind him, a mass of blades, claws, wings and magic. Every last beast yearning for fresh blood, and their commander's approval. Those nearest the forest were killed before there could be any chance of reaction. Some attempted to flee, only to be dive bombed and torn apart by Sercian's whom had thrown their lot in with the merciless Cronac warlord.

The enormous Cronac left the village to his troops, his wicked yellow eyes locked on the one winged Sercian. The brave elder made no attempt to flee, he knew better. The iron clamp of Le'Shaa's hand easily encompassed his entire neck and lifted the flightless Sercian into the air. The wooden cane fell to the ground beneath his dangling talons as the Cronac brought him close enough to his maw to feel the heat of his putrid breath.

"Where?" Le'Shaa snarled. Aside from the cries of anguish and the crackling of flames which filled the air around them, there was nothing but silence. "You'd do well to tell me what I want to know, Hector. I'd hate to have to claim your other wing."

"I'll tell you nothing, lizard." The Sercian responded, he made eye contact only for a moment. A mistake he lamented as soon as it occurred. To stare into the eyes of Le'Shaa was to look at the countless souls of the dead the Clan of Quetzalcoatl had left behind, unburied and unhonored. Beneath the scaled hand which suspended him, a lump formed in the throat of the Sercian. As if in cahoots with the reptile, the flames of the nearest huts flared angrily as the grip tightened.

"Here." With his free hand, Le'Shaa gestured to the river bank. From his cloudy peripherals, Hector could just make out the small form of a child.

"No. Don't." Hector said quickly, his eyes tearing up at the corners.

Taking the small sea tribe child by the arm, Le'Shaa laughed, causing an icy chill to run down Hector's spine. "What I do or do not do, Hector. Is dependent entirely on you, old friend." The reptile smiled at the helpless Sercian hanging loosely from his clawed hand, viscous saliva drooling from the corners of his daggered mouth.. "Now. Where?" He demanded again.

"I..." Hector trailed off as his green eyes strained to get a good look at the child next to him.

"Wrong." Le'Shaa's thick tail darted out, the cruel blade on the end burying itself in the innocent's chest. A nearly inaudible squeak pipped from the child's mouth before it slumped lifelessly against the muscular appendage. With another lightning fast flick he launched the boy's body like a rag doll into the growing flames of what used to be the village. The frightened cries of the other children filled the air.

Tears which threatened earlier now streamed from the corners of the eyes Hector had tightly clamped shut in an attempt to drive the image from his mind. "I can't tell you." He pleaded, his tear fogged eyes cracking to search for the poor child's soul in the eyes of his reptilian captor.

The toothy line of Le'Shaa's smile burst into a full grin, strings of the saliva stretching from roof of mouth to long tongue "Bring the next one."


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#, as written by chris45
The sound of a hammer rung in the air. This sound loud enough to wake a sleeping Jhenans boy from his sleep. The boy got up from his bed and let his feet touch the cold hard floor. He walked through the dark room, the darkness in this room was heavy, hard to see through. Yet the boy had no trouble navigating through it. He walked to the door of the room when he opened it the light of a roaring flame shined into his eyes. The boy shielded his eyes trying to let them adjust to the light. The boy blinked a few times and saw a rodent man pounding away at piece of metal. This man was a Umbral, he looked at the boy and asked “ shouldn’t you still be sleep?’

the boy responded “ I can’t sleep with the sound of your hammer ringing in my ears.” the Umbral smiled showing his rodent like teeth and said “ well come give me a hand if you can’t sleep than.” the boy smiled and grabbed a hammer, he than asked “what are you working on?” the Umbral responded “ I was working on new weapons for you, but I think you can handle that yourself.” the boy nodded his head and said “ ok father.” the boy grabbed some of the moldings he had created a few days ago. He grabbed the smoldering melted metal and poured it into the molding, he did this for three moldings. These moldings were small blades allowing for quicker cooling time. So after waiting for the molding to set the boy started to hammer away at the hot blade, the blade started to spark making the boy back away from it. He than went back to hammering. After much hammering and frustration the boy was able to see his creations laid out on his table.

Three small knives, the knives looked as if they were designed to be thrown. The boy smiled at his creations. He was no master weapon smith, but he was good enough to create weapons that he would be able to use. The boy looked at his father, the Umbral, still hammering away. The boy said to his father “ I am going to go test these, I shall return soon father.” the boy picked up his knives and headed toward the door when he was stopped by his father saying “ Geoffrey be careful. I don’t want you hurting yourself again. I may need you to do some work later and if your injured you will be no good to me.” Geoffrey chuckled and said “ I understand father.”

he than left out of his dark home onto the dark shadowy streets of the Umbral city, he walked along the path that lead to the small training grounds he used to test out his weapons. As he walked he passed the work shop. Of Pharon Hood, the Umbral master smith, that Geoffrey always wanted to receive a weapon from or train under. Yet he knew that was just an impossible fantasy, he soon arrived at the training grounds. He stood in the middle looking at the rocks, these rocks were all marked with an X, he liked using the rocks as targets because they allowed him to test the strength of his weapons.

Geoffrey took the knives and threw them at a single rock the first stuck inside the rock holding firm, the second bounced off and landed on the soft ground, the last hit the rock and it’s blade snapped under the pressure. Geoffrey walked over to the broken knife and picked it up. He looked to see what could have went wrong, he than sat down on the rock trying to think if he did anything different with the broken knife that would have caused it to be so weak.


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Plush pillows lined the walls touching the couch on which Lacricia reclined while gazing at herself in the mirror. Inside the mirror the other Lacricia crackled with a dark energy proving that she was not a mere reflection but some thing much more dangerous. Over the years Lacricia had learned to focus her terrible deeds into her reflection, bringing the image into almost a life of it's own as long as Lacricia was the one gazing into the mirror. This special mirror had been created as a beautiful gift from a suitor who had been allowed to stay as long as he had proven useful or entertaining, just like every other suitor, and he had lasted the longest by far. Knowing Lacricia's beauty he had had the mirror made by the finest craftsmen before even meeting the hand he proposed to make his wife. He had been the first to look into Lacricia's mirror and he had been the first to die from Lacricia's mirror.

"Beautiful one," the image said, "there is bloodshed on the air. Feast on the treachery."

"Yes, my dark beauty," Lacricia replied, her voice like burning silver. "Even after the wars have gone the barbarians of this world cannot let go of their killing, but they may be of some use to me later."

"Things are falling into place," the mirror cooed. "Before long you will take your first steps into forever and I shall serve you until eternity." Lacricia giggled a terrible, chilling giggle that could have been ripped from the very throat of a blushing girl child. Waving a hand at the mirror the image faded away leaving the mirror with a true reflection on it's surface.

Falling back on her cushions, Lacricia sighed in boredom. She had sent the letter out almost a week ago and yet there was still no answer. It couldn't take that long to get to the other side of the city and back, not even at the peak of the war, and she was becoming very impatient. If he weren't so important to her than her wrath would be strong but as it was he was protected by being useful with the Path. The Darkness obeyed Lacricia's every whim but Death... Death was something she needed to have another to deal with. Thus far it was proving difficult to keep someone talented enough in the Path that they could control it unharmed but still effective.

A curtain on the other side of the room was pulled back and a man in shackles was pushed to the middle of the floor by two lowly guards. The man was old, shaking and hardly worth Lacricia's time but if he was the one who was able to walk into the Path and emerge again un-harmed this was the one she had been searching for. She didn't hold much hope for him, however, as he looked too near death to be able to control Death enough to survive.

"Kneel before me," Lacricia murmured. The old man was pushed to the ground by one of the guards after a few seconds refusal. "You know not of what I can do for you if you merely submit to my word. Once you prove yourself you may even join me in the comforts I enjoy while the rest of the city fights itself for a crust of bread." The old man looked up at Lacricia through shaggy, un-kept hair and a smile crawled across his face. "There's the right idea. All you need to do is walk down your Path and return to me without a scratch upon your lovely form." The smile sank from the man's face to be replaced with a grimace of terror as one of her guards swung the huge battle ax he carried. The old man's head rolled across the floor to stop at Lacricia's feet and grin up at her for a moment before the life faded from it's eyes. "Damn it! Find me another one! A better one!" she screeched, sending the guards scampering toward the door with the old man's body.

Glaring down at the lifeless head, blots of black lightning shot from Lacricia's finger tips to incinerate the skull within moments. "Idiots! There is nothing but worthless imbeciles in this god-forsaken city!" After a moment the expression on her stunning face could have killed anything as Lacricia began to laugh, "but it won't be forsaken long."


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Bronze wings flashed the orange gold of fire in the sun as the Sercian turned mid air, aiming down at his prey carefully. Today he shot with the cross bow, in league with the other hunters of his village. Younger hunters, or less accurate shots were carrying rope and poles, to haul the prized meat back to the village through the air.

It was the work of a moment to release the bolt from the crossbow. The elk had no chance against Rani Flamewings' bow. No animal or being did, and he prided himself on being death from the sky. The bronzed Sercian accepted the cheers from his fellow hunters as two of the less capable, but still strong, hunters flew down to truss up the corpse and take it to their home village.

This fools. They had no clue of his ambitions. Let them cheer for their Flamewings, their greatest warrior. Had the food not bee so scarce closer to home, he would be out hunting on his own, without these great crowds.

But still, he knew what was required of him, to maintain his path. With a hearty laugh, Rani gave a wave to the other hunters, acknowledging their cheers.

“It was nothing!” He called out, loud enough most could hear him. They were high enough above their prey, they didn't need to worry about scaring them off. “Any of you could have done the same, I am sure!”

At the others, denials, and gestures of comraderie, Rani's eyebrow twitched, ever so slightly, but he returned the teasing seemingly wholeheartedly. Charming, graceful, a wonderful hunter, and handsome Sercian. He was the idol of the village.

The fools.


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#, as written by Tiko
Sanina's manor stood ravaged by war amongst the outskirts of the city. At one time the Lessard manor had been an impressive sight, the envy of many and the Lessard family itself a strong political figure within the nearby city. But those times were gone. Only Sanina remained of the Lessards, the family torn asunder by war.

Where once there stood an impressive structure of glittering limestone, expensive glass windows, extravagant gardens and stone walkways there now stood a broken husk of a building. Shutters hung broken, windows boarded up and the lawn was overrun with an eerie tangled jungle of weeds and plants that concealed untold horrors waiting for those foolish enough to venture onto the grounds.

Not many dared to wander their way onto Sanina's property however, so ominous and oppressive was it. An unsettling chill hung over the place, the chill of death. Haunted some said, cursed others claimed.

Sanina was a changed woman and scarcely recognizable as the time wore on. The disarray of the grounds was only the first sign of something gone ill within the property for Sanina herself had often been seen within the windows of the building, or taking evening strolls within the overrun gardens carrying the lifeless remains of a small child. The child had been her daughter, a year old when disease struck and stole her life away. With the loss of her family already weighing heavily upon her, it was the final blow to Sanina's sanity and she turned fully to her path and as time wore on her moments of lucidness grew less and less frequent.

Occasionally she ventured out from her manor into the city itself, but all avoided her passing, skirting the woman and the morbid remains she cradled within her arms, crooning over as if the child still lived. Hushed whispers and averted looks followed Sanina wherever she went. Driven mad by her path people said. The path of death.

However Sanina took no notice of such matters. In her mind the manor still stood strong, the grounds as lively and beautiful as ever, with her daughters musical laughter filling the air. Through her delusions and insanity however, the dead whispered to her and filled her mind with warnings of times changing. There was power, power for the taking for those with the skill and resolve to claim it. Soon not even death would take from her those she loved. Soon she would rule over death, and never again would it rule over her.


On this particular day Sanina's evening stroll carried her through the gardens of the manor grounds, her footsteps light and unhurried. She had been beautiful once, and perhaps some would still think as much if they looked past the remnants of what was at one time rich finery that was beginning to show the telltale signs of wear and disarray. Or if they could overlook the dead skeletal remains cradled within her arms, as well as see past the distant look of insanity within her eyes.

An eerie melody piercing the air as she hummed a gentle lullaby over the remains of her daughter. "Sleep my child, and peace attend thee. All through the night, Guardian angels the gods will send thee. All through the night, soft the drowsy hours are creeping. Hill and vale in slumber sleeping. I my loving vigil keeping. All through the night." came forth her words, soft and musical.

The melody though pleasant enough by nature held an unsettling chill to it, tainted by the insanity that infected the woman's mind. As the words died off to a gentle humming she turned her gaze down towards the remains in her arms with a gentle smile. As she spoke her words held the musical note of a mother speaking to her child. "Soon Jezebell dear. Soon. Soon not even death can take me from you." she crooned.


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Selecs'Drah grunted, hefting his cleaver onto his shoulder as he lumbered down the trodden path towards a village of the Sea tribes. His wicked mouth formed a shockingly gentle smile as he visualized the village in his head. But it wasn't the village itself whom the Cronac was interested in, but it's residents. It had been long since he had laid eyes on Syilene, and he could only minorly recall her features. His heavy footsteps caused the ground beneath the large feet to shake whatever lie in the general vicinty. The charms around his neck jingled as well as his armor when her lurched forth each time. His scarred face would retake it's regular pitch, as he came upon the revelation that he was still a good week's travel from the location. There were roughly eight villages between his current location and his destination, and he'd probably have to make a stop at each one.

As he neared the next city, he would view it with an eye of scrutiny, as most people viewed him. The town wasn't perfect, but in all, still a town. Tad shaggy and ragged, but he had stayed in worse places. As he neared the place he could see that it was perhaps a Sercian town. At this, Drah groaned. Loudly. "Juuuust whaaat IIIII neeeeed. Biiird braaiiins." He said agitatedly. He had faced a few in his arena days, and they had brought nothing but trouble. Not to mention annoying. Their shortbows and hand crossbows left wounds that weren't leathal, but were painful and annoying. Like getting shot with a splinter. But he pressed on. Shelter was better than none. As he drew closer still, he could now see a few of them flying overhead. He secretly wondered what it was like to fly. But then he remembered that he weight about four-hundred more pounds than they probably did.

He finally reached the gates of the town, and peered around. He was right about one thing: most houses were shacks, and looked just a step above poverty. Others stared at he has he walked through the town, large cleaver resting on his shoulder. He would present to them a fake smile. It's not that he didn't like them, it was simply that he assumed they didn't like him. He would wonder around the place for a brief while, before finally stopping and asking a few Sercians.
"'Scuse me.... But do you know where I might get something to eat. Perhaps a place to stay, as well?" he asked kindly, dispite towering over the two.

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Jhenabackis by Lobos


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Character Portrait: Geoffrey Silver
Character Portrait: Selacs'Drah
Character Portrait: Lacricia Nox


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Character Portrait: Rani Flamewings
0 sightings Rani Flamewings played by DemiKara


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Character Portrait: Geoffrey Silver
Character Portrait: Selacs'Drah
Character Portrait: Lacricia Nox


Character Portrait: Lacricia Nox
Lacricia Nox

Cold hearted Dark Witch with aspirations to be the Mistress of Darkness and rule over all.

Character Portrait: Selacs'Drah

A Cronac warrior, whom competed in his homeland's gladiatorial arena for a large portion of his life. Fighting is everything he knows.

Character Portrait: Geoffrey Silver
Geoffrey Silver

"Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway, at least not while i'm around."


Character Portrait: Lacricia Nox
Lacricia Nox

Cold hearted Dark Witch with aspirations to be the Mistress of Darkness and rule over all.

Character Portrait: Geoffrey Silver
Geoffrey Silver

"Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway, at least not while i'm around."

Character Portrait: Selacs'Drah

A Cronac warrior, whom competed in his homeland's gladiatorial arena for a large portion of his life. Fighting is everything he knows.

Most Followed

Character Portrait: Lacricia Nox
Lacricia Nox

Cold hearted Dark Witch with aspirations to be the Mistress of Darkness and rule over all.

Character Portrait: Geoffrey Silver
Geoffrey Silver

"Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway, at least not while i'm around."

Character Portrait: Selacs'Drah

A Cronac warrior, whom competed in his homeland's gladiatorial arena for a large portion of his life. Fighting is everything he knows.

Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Rise of the Ascendants: Out of Character


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Most recent OOC posts in Rise of the Ascendants

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Hey I sent in a character to Rise of Ascendants a few days ago, and was wondering if you could tell me if you accepted it or not because I haven't got a PM. Thank you

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Oh thank's another thing what about money do they use coins or paper money or is it a barter system.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Spells work in various ways, from spoken words to guide the magic of your path, to simple gestures to direct how you want it to flow. Unless your character is very, very adept at magic, I suggest spoken words or some sort of ritual to shape and direct the magic.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

So how does the magic work do we make up our own spells. As long as they have some relation to our paths.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Ok, I just want to apologize for my substantial lack of posting so far. I am working on my post at the moment. Seems every time I sit down to work on it someone wants me for something or other x__X either offline or online.

And to top it off now I'm sick. But I shall have it up before the day is done, one way or the other.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Cryovizard, if you need anything to happen just say so and I'm sure there are enough of us on here competent enough to make it happen for you. Sometimes it just takes a little excitement for people to actually participate, most want to have the fun without having to do the work.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Honestly Cryovizard, I wouldn't beat yourself up about it. Just because of people flaked out doesn't mean it had anything to do with you.

If this Vio-Lance cat is any indication then peeps on here apparently need a lot more guidance/cut and dried objective/location in order to be creative.
Which is silly, imo, but whatever.

Lemme know what you plan to do, I know myself and a couple others are interested in this RP, as it is a fantastic premise.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Le sigh. Lack of post is disappoint.

Over the next day or so I'll be PMing people to get their asses in gear for first posts. Hopefully everyone can get their start, and then we can move on to meeting up. Sorry I've been neglecting the OOC, I'm new to GMing and trying to decide where I went wrong. Between that and my internet dying randomly, I've been absent.

Again sorry, but later and tomorrow people are getting messaged. I do not want to have to throw up an RPers wanted so soon due to lack of posting.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Same here.

If nothing else maybe we can give it a little momentum and hopefully we'll attract some people. I like my character too much to let this fizzle and die so quickly lol

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

I keep checking back to see if anyone else has posted, not giving up hope quite yet. Though RPG.com is not helping at all with the 503 errors

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Who all is still willing to RP this mutha?

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Well... this is just a hoppin' RP isn't it.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

So is this dead already or what?

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Right, and I'm saying that in the next post its entirely feasible that we won't be as "unmeetable", so it doesn't really matter, so you should just post.

Don't worry about what other characters are doing right now, the RP hasn't even hardly started.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

I'm not saying we need to all jump in all on the first post, I'm just saying, be to where you're not unmeetable. Drah wouldn't venture down into some unknown, for all he knows forsaken cave. And I hate putting him out in the middle of nowhere, like, ... "In that particular village that Le'Shaa was just causing mass distruction and murder." It'd be Deus Ex Machina. A bad plot device, essentially.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

Its an opening post. Our characters won't be interacting until we're all vying for godhood, I assume. Don't worry about what other people are doing.

Le'Shaa is actually tracking down that particular Sercian because he had information about becoming an ascendant. I'm not going to reveal all my secrets OOC, but yeah.
& I mean, Le'Shaa has Sercians in his army, he's sort of an equal opportunity employer. He might think Cronacs are the best, but all the other races are equally worthless in his eyes. hahahaha.

I think complaining there is no place to "jump in" is silly. Its not like we all have to meet up in the first post.

EDIT: That being said, I'm sort of confused as to what Geoffry is doing in the boiling heat of the Umbral cities too.

Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

I think the reason we haven't been getting any posts, and why I myself haven't even posted, is because there are no places to "jump in". Everyone's doing somthing only their character would do. Pharon is smithing in cave where other races would unable to tollerate it. Why go somewhere where I have trouble breathing.

Le'Shaa is off slaughtering people, Sercians. Now, while I've decided that Cronacs and Sercians don't get along to well, I can find no graceful way to join Le'Shaa. Besides. Drah isn't keen about genocide.

And Geoffrey is in the cave with Pharon....


Re: [OOC] >- Rise of the Ascendants -<

First off, I'm back like I said I would be. And I did not go back on my promise to get the ball rolling. ;)

The RP is officially started, feel free to begin posting whenever. My first post is already made, I'd highly recommend reading the first part if you're looking for any more backstory. Otherwise, have at it, ladies and gents!

As a sidenote, though, I would ask that you talk with your friends to see if their interested. We got a rather sad amount of joiners while I was gone, only two additional people since I left. If we can get anymore people, I'm going to still be accepting characters for a while. Possibly, characters may be accepted throughout the RP.

Comments on OOC Posts:

Elrey: I will work on those statistic things you asked about, I realized that I should have to start with. Thanks.

Steppin': Thank you for providing the basics of what I based the RP off of, it should help those that join with figuring out how everything works.

Final Words: Have at it, people! ;)