Setting
Default Location for The Chronicles Of Galeia | Ballad of Calraida
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
Planet of Galeia | Continent of Calraida is a part of 
The Chronicles Of Galeia | Ballad of Calraida.
4 Places in Planet of Galeia | Continent of Calraida:
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It was the dead of night somewhere in the Serenian countryside, the only light being that cast from the stars high above, which gave very little illumination to the landscape. To anyone else, that little bit of light wouldn't be near enough to see in the pitch blackness. To Mizzirilian, it was more than enough. Night time was the only time of day Mizzy could finally let her hood down and look upward past the horizon. All around her, the land was lit up for her to see everything in detail. Such was the advantage of Drow eyesight, though she could stand without the sizzling her eyes did during the daylight hours.
She currently sat atop a grave stone where many more stood around her. Located somewhere outside of a small village or hamlet or something, Mizzy played with a lock of her stark white hair while reading the black tome that lay bare on her knee. She'd already read the damned thing numerous times, and could pick out the exact spots she needed on memory alone. Still, it was better than watching the alternative. Nearby, there was a soft rattling, followed the the sound of a shovel biting through the graveyard dirt. It wasn't like she was gonna do the hard work, after all.
The rattling came from a pair of skeletons, one with a rusty sword hanging from a leather lashing, the other a mace. "Shh!" she demanded, "I can not even hear myself read!" she hissed, though the skeletons didn't seem to notice. Because what could they do? They'd lost their skin and muscle long ago, and they had to carry their weapons somewhere. It was not as if Mizzy was going to carry them. Mizzy simply smiled to herself and returned to her reading.
Eventually, the sound of dirt bring moved shifted to a dull thunk, and that too caught Mizzy's attention. She closed the book and held it under her arm. As she approached the skeletons, the sound of wood being ripped apart hit the open air, and she hissed again. "What did I say! At least try to be quiet." Of course, if she truly cared, she could have always just cast a spell to erase any sounds that the skeletons would make. That wouldn't be near as fun, though, and it wasn't like anyone was going to find them in the dead of night in a graveyard.
The skeletons pulled themselves out of the grave to make room for Mizzy to descend into it. She hopped down into the deep hole, careful not to fall directly on top of the newly excavated corpse. "Ooh," she cooed, "You were a big one, weren't you mister..." she began, glancing upward to see the name on the gravestone. "Keren." The corpse was tall, she could tell even in his coffin. Typical of the Serenian elves. By the decomposition, Mizzy estimated that mister Keren had only been dead for a year or so. He still had his skin, and brown tufts of hair still graced the top of his skull. He was emancipated, of course. A corpse could only stay fresh for so long.
She took a seat on his chest and began to finger through his pockets. There was nothing of value there, only a love note from his family. She discarded it easily, and searched in fingers. She was in luck this time, as the man had been buried with all of his jewely-- three rings of fine make. Chuckling to herself, she pocketed the rings, and opened the black book, expert fingers moving to the exact excerpt she needed. Mizzy began to read in an unknown language, and for a time, the world around them slipped into silence.
Upon completion of the recitation., nothing happened for a moment. But Mizzy had done this a hundred times before, and she patiently waited. Moments later, the corpse she sat atop shuddered and its eyelids snapped open, revealing eyeless sockets. "Welcome back mister Keren," Mizzy said mischievously. It was like the corpse understood her. It was just a mindless tool now. "If you'd please?" she said, pointing out of the hole.
With that, the corpse stood and rose, Mizzy in its skeletal arms, to set her atop the edge of the grave before climbing out after her. Pointing at the next grave, Mizzy snapped her fingers. "Go on, mister Thom is next. Quickly now, we're done after him. I'd like to leave before the sun comes up and blinds me," she cooed, returning to her perch atop the earlier gravestone. In a few days time, she expected to be in Skysong city.
She had to unload her ill gotten gains somewhere, after all.
She currently sat atop a grave stone where many more stood around her. Located somewhere outside of a small village or hamlet or something, Mizzy played with a lock of her stark white hair while reading the black tome that lay bare on her knee. She'd already read the damned thing numerous times, and could pick out the exact spots she needed on memory alone. Still, it was better than watching the alternative. Nearby, there was a soft rattling, followed the the sound of a shovel biting through the graveyard dirt. It wasn't like she was gonna do the hard work, after all.
The rattling came from a pair of skeletons, one with a rusty sword hanging from a leather lashing, the other a mace. "Shh!" she demanded, "I can not even hear myself read!" she hissed, though the skeletons didn't seem to notice. Because what could they do? They'd lost their skin and muscle long ago, and they had to carry their weapons somewhere. It was not as if Mizzy was going to carry them. Mizzy simply smiled to herself and returned to her reading.
Eventually, the sound of dirt bring moved shifted to a dull thunk, and that too caught Mizzy's attention. She closed the book and held it under her arm. As she approached the skeletons, the sound of wood being ripped apart hit the open air, and she hissed again. "What did I say! At least try to be quiet." Of course, if she truly cared, she could have always just cast a spell to erase any sounds that the skeletons would make. That wouldn't be near as fun, though, and it wasn't like anyone was going to find them in the dead of night in a graveyard.
The skeletons pulled themselves out of the grave to make room for Mizzy to descend into it. She hopped down into the deep hole, careful not to fall directly on top of the newly excavated corpse. "Ooh," she cooed, "You were a big one, weren't you mister..." she began, glancing upward to see the name on the gravestone. "Keren." The corpse was tall, she could tell even in his coffin. Typical of the Serenian elves. By the decomposition, Mizzy estimated that mister Keren had only been dead for a year or so. He still had his skin, and brown tufts of hair still graced the top of his skull. He was emancipated, of course. A corpse could only stay fresh for so long.
She took a seat on his chest and began to finger through his pockets. There was nothing of value there, only a love note from his family. She discarded it easily, and searched in fingers. She was in luck this time, as the man had been buried with all of his jewely-- three rings of fine make. Chuckling to herself, she pocketed the rings, and opened the black book, expert fingers moving to the exact excerpt she needed. Mizzy began to read in an unknown language, and for a time, the world around them slipped into silence.
Upon completion of the recitation., nothing happened for a moment. But Mizzy had done this a hundred times before, and she patiently waited. Moments later, the corpse she sat atop shuddered and its eyelids snapped open, revealing eyeless sockets. "Welcome back mister Keren," Mizzy said mischievously. It was like the corpse understood her. It was just a mindless tool now. "If you'd please?" she said, pointing out of the hole.
With that, the corpse stood and rose, Mizzy in its skeletal arms, to set her atop the edge of the grave before climbing out after her. Pointing at the next grave, Mizzy snapped her fingers. "Go on, mister Thom is next. Quickly now, we're done after him. I'd like to leave before the sun comes up and blinds me," she cooed, returning to her perch atop the earlier gravestone. In a few days time, she expected to be in Skysong city.
She had to unload her ill gotten gains somewhere, after all.
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This is meant to be posted in the Training Field.
Titan wasn't too keen in defending himself, reason being that the Aedillonian method of combat was to avoid and evade. As graceful as an elven dancer, he was confident not a single blow would land successfully on him. Knees bent, and eyes trained on Neirin, he only hoped the elf didn't discover his weakness. In truth, Titan was blind in his left eye as long as long as the sun was up. He could only use his dark crimson red hue in the dark, the cause being something Titan wouldn't even think about. The whole ordeal was rather embarrassing, which made him an oddity in his own society. Fortunately, he was one of only two people still alive who knew anything about it. "How I solve any problem such as that. I teleported him far away enough so that he wouldn't cause us any more issues. For now." He was still quite proud of the fact that he was teleported Torcus to Shore's Haven City. Albeit a temporary fix, it still did the intended job. Now he only had to worry when Torcus's search turned nothing up, which it surely would. The lycan wouldn't be too happy on his return. Titan still needed to round up this Lathaim fellow and take him into protective custody.
“I’ll make you a deal. If you can land but a single blow on me, you win.” Being that Titan had no intention in using any of his abilities in this fight, he was fighting as straight as an arrow. Stepping forward with his right foot, he quickly swung with his left, aimed to cleave the man’s head. Just as he did so, he pulled an uppercut with his right, targeted at the underside of his chin. “I’m thinking of taking on a squire. Her name is Gaele. I met her in a tavern earlier today.” Perhaps making small talk would distract Neirin. “The Queen is running off on me to go on some adventure with this fellow named Patch. I don’t like him at all. She seems to trust him however. They seem to be old friends, of sorts.” What Titan wouldn’t give to teleport Patch off a cliff somewhere. Stealing the Queen out from under him, how rude. How was he meant to protect her if she was always running off into some kind of trouble?
Titan wasn't too keen in defending himself, reason being that the Aedillonian method of combat was to avoid and evade. As graceful as an elven dancer, he was confident not a single blow would land successfully on him. Knees bent, and eyes trained on Neirin, he only hoped the elf didn't discover his weakness. In truth, Titan was blind in his left eye as long as long as the sun was up. He could only use his dark crimson red hue in the dark, the cause being something Titan wouldn't even think about. The whole ordeal was rather embarrassing, which made him an oddity in his own society. Fortunately, he was one of only two people still alive who knew anything about it. "How I solve any problem such as that. I teleported him far away enough so that he wouldn't cause us any more issues. For now." He was still quite proud of the fact that he was teleported Torcus to Shore's Haven City. Albeit a temporary fix, it still did the intended job. Now he only had to worry when Torcus's search turned nothing up, which it surely would. The lycan wouldn't be too happy on his return. Titan still needed to round up this Lathaim fellow and take him into protective custody.
“I’ll make you a deal. If you can land but a single blow on me, you win.” Being that Titan had no intention in using any of his abilities in this fight, he was fighting as straight as an arrow. Stepping forward with his right foot, he quickly swung with his left, aimed to cleave the man’s head. Just as he did so, he pulled an uppercut with his right, targeted at the underside of his chin. “I’m thinking of taking on a squire. Her name is Gaele. I met her in a tavern earlier today.” Perhaps making small talk would distract Neirin. “The Queen is running off on me to go on some adventure with this fellow named Patch. I don’t like him at all. She seems to trust him however. They seem to be old friends, of sorts.” What Titan wouldn’t give to teleport Patch off a cliff somewhere. Stealing the Queen out from under him, how rude. How was he meant to protect her if she was always running off into some kind of trouble?
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