Introduction
It is now Spring of the year Three Hundred and Seventeen, During the Age of Peace.. The people of Valria, or more precisely, their monarchs and governors, have thus named every year after the end of the Great Valrian War, or simply the World War to the commoners. With the armies of Calris beaten back across its border, and the loss of the nation’s monarch, the end of the war sparked a new age of peace for the allied nations..
As the years went by, and the Age of Peace persisted, the nations began to disarm, no longer needing the staggeringly sized militaries the years past had demanded. Warriors were forced to put aside their weapons, children grew up not knowing the horrors of war, crowns were passed on to younger, more peace-minded rulers, nations expanded as their populations regrew.. The world of Valria had truly become a paradise for most.
Still, there are always those who cannot find a place in such a world.. There are those who need battle, who knew that peace could not last indefinitely.. Those who knew the world would need to be ready for the coming of the next age, when it would need heroes more sorely than the age before. As the nations settled into their peace, they left, seeking new parts of the world to explore and hone their skills as well as that of those who would follow them. They sought places of legend that would bring adventurers from around Valria, the restless who could become the heroes of the next age.
It is in such a place that we begin our story…
The isles of Ilyamorra… The eyes of Maliusya have turned upon this cluster of isles that lay just beyond its western coast line. It was said, long ago, that the isles were once part of Maliusya, a place of great magics and production… It was said that ancient magics had been weaved into the soil of these isles, causing everything to grow on a truly grand and expeditious scale. Grand forests with trees nearly a hundred feet tall occupied nearly half the islands, while nearly the entirety of the other half were covered in farm lands that produced more than the great nation truly knew what to do with… The isles had once been the reason for Maliusya’s great wealth.
However, such treasures tend to draw the wandering eyes of the greedy…
Over ten centuries before the Age of Peace, the conquering nation of Calris, under the rule of the Emperor, Cale, sought to conquer the isles and take the great lands as their own. The isles were poorly defended… They had little defense against the grand navy that Calris sent. The isle was abandoned as the ships came, its citizens evacuated.. All save one man. Refic Ulisa, chosen steward over the isles, and former Archmage of Maliusya, would not see his isles taken by such scum and villains.. He would not let his islands see a day that they would be used against the great nation that he so loved. Rufic poured all of his malice, all of his great wrath towards the enemy, and every shred of his love for his lands, into one spell.. One that would mean the end of his life, and the end of all human life on Ilyamorra. Magics changed the lands.. The trees grew ever taller and the forests consumed the old roads and pathways, the animals changed.. grey larger, more violent; few becoming monsters that rivalled those of legend. The island was surrounded in a heavy fog that only the strongest of magics would pierce, and the seas around the isle began to attract the most fearsome monsters from the deep. The ships of Calris arrived at the isle, expecting to find a paradise and treasure that would easily be won.. But instead found their ruin. Much of the fleet was destroyed by the abominations of the deep, or were broken upon the island’s shores, unable to see past the heavy fog. Those that managed to survive long enough to make it onto land were slaughtered by forces still unknown.
Thus it was that the Isles of Ilyamorra became known as the Cursed Isles, and for ten centuries none dared to look upon its wondrous shores again..
Until one day, a curious king stumbled upon the legends of old…
An expedition! Yes, that is what it was called by the king… Though the commoners, and even the nobles that frequented the castle that sat upon Mount Selithia, would call it nothing more than a suicide mission. The old king, a man who’d won his legend through the wars of the past, believed that retaking the isles would be the greatest achievement of the age, one to rival even Atramentia’s inventing of electricity, and set forth a new initiative that would shape the lives of adventurers for centuries to come.
Gold.. Yes, that is what he offered.. Gold and land.. To any and all those who would go to the Isles and once again make them habitable, the king offered enough gold to buy a barony.. To those who colonized the island, who were willing to move their families there and make new lives upon the hallowed and magical isles; he would give reward worthy of the knights of his circle, as well as much land as they could possibly manage.
These promises of reward drew the eyes of more than one stray adventurer or errant farmer.. Indeed, they drew droves of young adventurers, seasoned warriors, experienced magicians, and hopeful farmers. At first, the expedition went poorly… Ships full of wistful explorers and colonials disappeared.. As more ships disappeared, as more people were eradicated from this world of Valria, the people began t despair.. Perhaps their King’s expedition was merely a mad venture by a man who’d reached senility? Perhaps the Cursed Isles would stay lost forever?
The expedition continued to see such loss and the number of those willing to volunteer themselves for it dwindled to the point that only the truly desperate were willing to make the journey. It was not until the crown passed to King Frederic that the expedition saw its first bits of success. The day after Frederic’s crowning, a large number of ships set sail for Ilyamorra, and for nearly three seasons they were not heard from… But on the fifth day of the Winter of the year three hundred and fifteen, a single ship returned to Maliusya. Its crew, a group of now hardened sailors and adventurers, were brought before the king to tell them of all that had happened. They told of the journey there, of the sea monsters that berated them as they attempted to reach the island, they told of the dense fogs that protected it.. But they also spoke of the men who led them, of the man whose magic broke the fog, of the man who slew a hundred sea monsters of unbelievable size, of the man who held their spirits together as they made the hard journey. They then spoke of how these men protected them, how they fought and slew the monsters that waited on the land, how they brought heart to all those who looked upon them. They spoke of their success in clearing the lands on the isle, and of how they managed to make one of the isles safe for all those who wished to live there. Still, they spoke of how inhospitable the other isles were. The other two islands that joined to make Ilyamorra seemed to spawn new monsters to greet the adventurers and warriors that sought to retake them.. Of how much more organized the beasts upon them seemed to be, and of how the monsters only became stronger with the passing of time. Lastly, they spoke of a monster greater than others, a beast that commanded the others, that resided upon the third isle. It was assumed by the greatest of their warriors that the monster was the center of the curse, the embodiment of the magics of Refic Ulisa.
Now, here is where your story begins…
The expedition started with new fervor… The rewards were now obtainable, and the promises of a new life inspired many to make the journey… And so the adventurers and colonists once again made the journey in droves, arriving at the Isles of Ilyamorra safely now to find the island of Acker, the first of the isles, safe and inhabited partly by those who had braved the last, truly dangerous journey. Upon this large isle, a town had been set, one by the name of Ebonblut.. It had been surrounded by the growing farms of those colonists who’d braved the journey, arriving there to find soils fertile beyond belief that bore strong crops at a rate far more expeditious than even the legends told of. However… The cruel lands had taken their toll on these new inhabitants.. The attempts to take the second isle, the isle of Admeta, ended in the deaths of many.. And those few courageous souls who had ventured to the isle of Adair, the isle covered entirely in trees hundreds of feet tall, to face the great beast never returned.
Still, the new adventurers were welcomed to the isles by their precursors, and the colonials were welcomed by lands that could provide for them and their families, so long as there were still those alive that could protect them.
So, now there is only one question to ask.. One answer that will start this tale of how the Cursed Isles once more became the paradise of legend…
Who are you?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Character Sheet:
Name:
Age:
Race:
Class:(no techonological classes anything else is fine...no Doctor whos)
Weapon(s) of choice:
Personality:
Height:
Weight:
Bio:
As the years went by, and the Age of Peace persisted, the nations began to disarm, no longer needing the staggeringly sized militaries the years past had demanded. Warriors were forced to put aside their weapons, children grew up not knowing the horrors of war, crowns were passed on to younger, more peace-minded rulers, nations expanded as their populations regrew.. The world of Valria had truly become a paradise for most.
Still, there are always those who cannot find a place in such a world.. There are those who need battle, who knew that peace could not last indefinitely.. Those who knew the world would need to be ready for the coming of the next age, when it would need heroes more sorely than the age before. As the nations settled into their peace, they left, seeking new parts of the world to explore and hone their skills as well as that of those who would follow them. They sought places of legend that would bring adventurers from around Valria, the restless who could become the heroes of the next age.
It is in such a place that we begin our story…
The isles of Ilyamorra… The eyes of Maliusya have turned upon this cluster of isles that lay just beyond its western coast line. It was said, long ago, that the isles were once part of Maliusya, a place of great magics and production… It was said that ancient magics had been weaved into the soil of these isles, causing everything to grow on a truly grand and expeditious scale. Grand forests with trees nearly a hundred feet tall occupied nearly half the islands, while nearly the entirety of the other half were covered in farm lands that produced more than the great nation truly knew what to do with… The isles had once been the reason for Maliusya’s great wealth.
However, such treasures tend to draw the wandering eyes of the greedy…
Over ten centuries before the Age of Peace, the conquering nation of Calris, under the rule of the Emperor, Cale, sought to conquer the isles and take the great lands as their own. The isles were poorly defended… They had little defense against the grand navy that Calris sent. The isle was abandoned as the ships came, its citizens evacuated.. All save one man. Refic Ulisa, chosen steward over the isles, and former Archmage of Maliusya, would not see his isles taken by such scum and villains.. He would not let his islands see a day that they would be used against the great nation that he so loved. Rufic poured all of his malice, all of his great wrath towards the enemy, and every shred of his love for his lands, into one spell.. One that would mean the end of his life, and the end of all human life on Ilyamorra. Magics changed the lands.. The trees grew ever taller and the forests consumed the old roads and pathways, the animals changed.. grey larger, more violent; few becoming monsters that rivalled those of legend. The island was surrounded in a heavy fog that only the strongest of magics would pierce, and the seas around the isle began to attract the most fearsome monsters from the deep. The ships of Calris arrived at the isle, expecting to find a paradise and treasure that would easily be won.. But instead found their ruin. Much of the fleet was destroyed by the abominations of the deep, or were broken upon the island’s shores, unable to see past the heavy fog. Those that managed to survive long enough to make it onto land were slaughtered by forces still unknown.
Thus it was that the Isles of Ilyamorra became known as the Cursed Isles, and for ten centuries none dared to look upon its wondrous shores again..
Until one day, a curious king stumbled upon the legends of old…
An expedition! Yes, that is what it was called by the king… Though the commoners, and even the nobles that frequented the castle that sat upon Mount Selithia, would call it nothing more than a suicide mission. The old king, a man who’d won his legend through the wars of the past, believed that retaking the isles would be the greatest achievement of the age, one to rival even Atramentia’s inventing of electricity, and set forth a new initiative that would shape the lives of adventurers for centuries to come.
Gold.. Yes, that is what he offered.. Gold and land.. To any and all those who would go to the Isles and once again make them habitable, the king offered enough gold to buy a barony.. To those who colonized the island, who were willing to move their families there and make new lives upon the hallowed and magical isles; he would give reward worthy of the knights of his circle, as well as much land as they could possibly manage.
These promises of reward drew the eyes of more than one stray adventurer or errant farmer.. Indeed, they drew droves of young adventurers, seasoned warriors, experienced magicians, and hopeful farmers. At first, the expedition went poorly… Ships full of wistful explorers and colonials disappeared.. As more ships disappeared, as more people were eradicated from this world of Valria, the people began t despair.. Perhaps their King’s expedition was merely a mad venture by a man who’d reached senility? Perhaps the Cursed Isles would stay lost forever?
The expedition continued to see such loss and the number of those willing to volunteer themselves for it dwindled to the point that only the truly desperate were willing to make the journey. It was not until the crown passed to King Frederic that the expedition saw its first bits of success. The day after Frederic’s crowning, a large number of ships set sail for Ilyamorra, and for nearly three seasons they were not heard from… But on the fifth day of the Winter of the year three hundred and fifteen, a single ship returned to Maliusya. Its crew, a group of now hardened sailors and adventurers, were brought before the king to tell them of all that had happened. They told of the journey there, of the sea monsters that berated them as they attempted to reach the island, they told of the dense fogs that protected it.. But they also spoke of the men who led them, of the man whose magic broke the fog, of the man who slew a hundred sea monsters of unbelievable size, of the man who held their spirits together as they made the hard journey. They then spoke of how these men protected them, how they fought and slew the monsters that waited on the land, how they brought heart to all those who looked upon them. They spoke of their success in clearing the lands on the isle, and of how they managed to make one of the isles safe for all those who wished to live there. Still, they spoke of how inhospitable the other isles were. The other two islands that joined to make Ilyamorra seemed to spawn new monsters to greet the adventurers and warriors that sought to retake them.. Of how much more organized the beasts upon them seemed to be, and of how the monsters only became stronger with the passing of time. Lastly, they spoke of a monster greater than others, a beast that commanded the others, that resided upon the third isle. It was assumed by the greatest of their warriors that the monster was the center of the curse, the embodiment of the magics of Refic Ulisa.
Now, here is where your story begins…
The expedition started with new fervor… The rewards were now obtainable, and the promises of a new life inspired many to make the journey… And so the adventurers and colonists once again made the journey in droves, arriving at the Isles of Ilyamorra safely now to find the island of Acker, the first of the isles, safe and inhabited partly by those who had braved the last, truly dangerous journey. Upon this large isle, a town had been set, one by the name of Ebonblut.. It had been surrounded by the growing farms of those colonists who’d braved the journey, arriving there to find soils fertile beyond belief that bore strong crops at a rate far more expeditious than even the legends told of. However… The cruel lands had taken their toll on these new inhabitants.. The attempts to take the second isle, the isle of Admeta, ended in the deaths of many.. And those few courageous souls who had ventured to the isle of Adair, the isle covered entirely in trees hundreds of feet tall, to face the great beast never returned.
Still, the new adventurers were welcomed to the isles by their precursors, and the colonials were welcomed by lands that could provide for them and their families, so long as there were still those alive that could protect them.
So, now there is only one question to ask.. One answer that will start this tale of how the Cursed Isles once more became the paradise of legend…
Who are you?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Character Sheet:
Name:
Age:
Race:
Class:(no techonological classes anything else is fine...no Doctor whos)
Weapon(s) of choice:
Personality:
Height:
Weight:
Bio:
- 7 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 7 authors
The sun rises on the fourth day of the three hundred, seventeenth year of the Age of Peace and bathes the world of Vaalria with its morning light. As the world's lone, truly immortal conqueror rises, the creatures of the day begin to stir within their homes and take their first steps out into the light of the new day, as the creatures of the night find shelter from their one, true enemy. Across the world, the people of Vaalria prepare for another day in a world of “peace”.
In Atramentia, the street lamps are just being put out by the magic sensors that operate each and every one of the public lights in every major city. The people of its capital rise and prepare to work in the grand markets and public works of the great, mechanized city. The members of the council already setting into their chamber, paper work already flooding in from every corner of the republic, and the council members already cursing their choice in career.
In Alionya, the inquisitors have been awake since before dawn, already out on the training field and performing their morning routines. The people wake to see the holy warriors in their shining armor practicing their drills in the fields just outside the Palace gates. The Wolf King stirs in his chambers, woken yet again by the incessant yelling of the Inquisitors and their Knight Commander as be barks orders at the devout sods. For the fiftieth time in the last season, he prepares to yell at the thick-skulled commander to find a better place to scream at the poor men.
In Calris, the people remain indoors, not daring to stir, even as the Sun rises into the sky. The curfew remains in effect, and all those bold enough to step outside before its end would only be met by the sight of the patrolling platoons of soldiers, and the gleam of the morning light on the pike that would promptly find a home inside of them. Not a soul, not even the sun, knows what goes on inside of the great fortress that houses the Emperor and his kin during these mornings...
In grand Maliusya, the sun's first light is blocked from the land's view by the great mountains that protect the kingdom's eastern border, but the shadows are overcome soon. Like the rest of the world, the magical citizens of Maliusya rise and quickly begin their days.. Either with the preparing of their morning meals, the rise to begin their day's work, or the stepping out to once again begin their routine practice of the mystical arts. The citizens of the royal city wake early, like their King, and begin their bustling about before the sun can even reach the tip of Mount Selithia. The King has been awake for many hours already, seeing to every issue, demand, and minor inconvenience that the citizens of his land report. He enthusiastically goes about his work, eager to prove himself to his predecessor.
No one really knows what happens on the flying isle of Artisama as the sun rises into the sky. The people of the isle still remain much the mystery to the people of Vaalria, having only begun relations with the mainland again during the War of Vaalria, after having stayed an enigmatic and secluded entity for little over ten thousand years.
Upon the Isle of Acker, the first of the Isles of Ilyamorra, the people greet the the morning light in ways that can only be described as “different” by any citizen of the now peaceful nations of Vaalria.
As the sun rises, the warriors that patrol the islands borders, walking atop the unstable, crudely built, wooden wall built by tired and care-worn adventurers and colonials, let out a great sigh of relief as they are finally able to climb down. The magical torches along the wall sputter out as the guards walk away, their bodies still shaking from the cold and the fear as new, well-rested warriors take their places, smirking their way up the wall at the plight of the poor rookies they'd conned into taking the night watch.
The farmers rise from their beds and greet the morning light issuing forth from their windows with a smile and a thankful heart, as their prayers for another day amongst the living have been answered. The fear of not surviving the night prior disappears as they ready for their days, preparing to tend their fields while making another, silent prayer to their gods for just another day without a monster attack, or perhaps for the return of a loved one that had gone to challenge the other isles of Ilyamorra.
The more experienced adventurers are already awake by the time that the sun shows its face, and are already in the training field near the smithy, practicing with their various tools of the trade; sparring against each other, or mangling a poor, defenseless straw dummy. The less experienced adventurers wait outside the smithy's doors, waiting for the blacksmith to come out and show the poor sods how to defend themselves; the man having been strong-armed into training the wet-behind-the-ears welps that had come to the islands without so much as a clue as to how to fight the monsters that occupied Ilyamorra.
The owner of the general store, the young Rowen Velric, still sleeps, his windows magically tinted so that the sun may not ruin his rest. His life amongst the nobility of Maliusya obviously still guides his actions and his habits continue to annoy his colleagues amongst the other shops and businesses that make up their small village. Still, a few amateur adventurers sit outside his doors, waiting for the young man to rise and take notice of them. Many of them need supplies or enchantments.. Few others wait so that they may watch the man ply his trade and perhaps learn a thing or two.
As the other citizens of the small town of Ebonblut might just be getting about to their morning tasks (the general store owner, and perhaps the blacksmith being the only known exceptions), the owner of the Inn has already been awake for hours. In the Crow's Song Inn, the massive, sturdy building seated upon a lone hill set on the edge of the village, nearest the harbor, the owner has been busy dealing with his usual, morning business.
“Come now, get up...” The voice of the Inn Keeper could be heard saying from inside of the Inn. “It's time for you to sober up.. I can't have a pile of drunkards tripping up everyone...” The sounds of shuffling, like bodies being forced upwards and being dragged could then be heard, accompanied by the sounds of rather large men groaning and gurgling, their minds still a pile of stew after the night before.. The doors to the Inn would suddenly swing open, the metal framed, wooden doors slamming against the sturdy walls of the building's entry way as the Inn Keeper walked outside, barren of all clothing save his sleeping trousers, accompanied by the in-comprehensive bodies of his nightly patrons. With three men hanging off of the Inn Keeper's back, their bodies being held aloft by a single hand wrapped around the collars of their tunics, and a body dragging behind him on the ground, held by his other hand, he greets the morning with a rather warm smile. “Well, this is a rather fine day to sober up, isn't it?” He'd ask the drunkards in a rather good-hearted way before casually tossing them over his shoulder, off the side of the large, wooden porch that lined the top of the hill like a crown, and watched them fall into a strategically placed pond below. With sadistic glee, the Inn Keeper would watch as the men would writhe and scream as the cold water woke them rather suddenly and brought upon the pains of a hedonistic night before they were really due. The Inn Keeper would then turn, dropping the man he'd been dragging along into the pond with his compatriots as he did, and walked back into the Crow's Song, stretching all the while.
The Inn Keeper, the infamous but respected Sage, walked back to his own, private room that was housed in the fore-section of the Inn, making up roughly a fifth of the large building's construction. He sat atop the large, soft bed that he came home to each night and rubbed at his eyes for a few moments as they tried to adjust to the growing brightness that the sun brought each morning. Today would be yet another busy day; the townspeople and perhaps even the farmers would come by for their morning meals, the poor rookies from the night watch would come back for some ale and a bit of rest, and his short staff would complain rather abundantly about their daily tasks. To add fuel to that fire, Sage would also have to make a trip to the Smithy to collect the new tankards and dining ware that his old friend was supposed to craft for him, and would naturally be met with yet another excuse about how it couldn't be done that day.
Sage heaved a great sigh as he ran his pale hand through his long, pitch black hair, moving it away from his crimson eyes. As was his daily custom, Sage asked the world why he'd gone to such trouble to come and stay on the isles, why he stayed and watched as others came and perished on the cursed isles as he simply supported them as nothing more than an Inn Keeper. “I'm sure he will remind me again today, if I ask...” Sage would say as the thought of confiding in his friend arose in his mind as he pushed himself from his bed, ready to clothe himself and begin his day.
In Atramentia, the street lamps are just being put out by the magic sensors that operate each and every one of the public lights in every major city. The people of its capital rise and prepare to work in the grand markets and public works of the great, mechanized city. The members of the council already setting into their chamber, paper work already flooding in from every corner of the republic, and the council members already cursing their choice in career.
In Alionya, the inquisitors have been awake since before dawn, already out on the training field and performing their morning routines. The people wake to see the holy warriors in their shining armor practicing their drills in the fields just outside the Palace gates. The Wolf King stirs in his chambers, woken yet again by the incessant yelling of the Inquisitors and their Knight Commander as be barks orders at the devout sods. For the fiftieth time in the last season, he prepares to yell at the thick-skulled commander to find a better place to scream at the poor men.
In Calris, the people remain indoors, not daring to stir, even as the Sun rises into the sky. The curfew remains in effect, and all those bold enough to step outside before its end would only be met by the sight of the patrolling platoons of soldiers, and the gleam of the morning light on the pike that would promptly find a home inside of them. Not a soul, not even the sun, knows what goes on inside of the great fortress that houses the Emperor and his kin during these mornings...
In grand Maliusya, the sun's first light is blocked from the land's view by the great mountains that protect the kingdom's eastern border, but the shadows are overcome soon. Like the rest of the world, the magical citizens of Maliusya rise and quickly begin their days.. Either with the preparing of their morning meals, the rise to begin their day's work, or the stepping out to once again begin their routine practice of the mystical arts. The citizens of the royal city wake early, like their King, and begin their bustling about before the sun can even reach the tip of Mount Selithia. The King has been awake for many hours already, seeing to every issue, demand, and minor inconvenience that the citizens of his land report. He enthusiastically goes about his work, eager to prove himself to his predecessor.
No one really knows what happens on the flying isle of Artisama as the sun rises into the sky. The people of the isle still remain much the mystery to the people of Vaalria, having only begun relations with the mainland again during the War of Vaalria, after having stayed an enigmatic and secluded entity for little over ten thousand years.
Upon the Isle of Acker, the first of the Isles of Ilyamorra, the people greet the the morning light in ways that can only be described as “different” by any citizen of the now peaceful nations of Vaalria.
As the sun rises, the warriors that patrol the islands borders, walking atop the unstable, crudely built, wooden wall built by tired and care-worn adventurers and colonials, let out a great sigh of relief as they are finally able to climb down. The magical torches along the wall sputter out as the guards walk away, their bodies still shaking from the cold and the fear as new, well-rested warriors take their places, smirking their way up the wall at the plight of the poor rookies they'd conned into taking the night watch.
The farmers rise from their beds and greet the morning light issuing forth from their windows with a smile and a thankful heart, as their prayers for another day amongst the living have been answered. The fear of not surviving the night prior disappears as they ready for their days, preparing to tend their fields while making another, silent prayer to their gods for just another day without a monster attack, or perhaps for the return of a loved one that had gone to challenge the other isles of Ilyamorra.
The more experienced adventurers are already awake by the time that the sun shows its face, and are already in the training field near the smithy, practicing with their various tools of the trade; sparring against each other, or mangling a poor, defenseless straw dummy. The less experienced adventurers wait outside the smithy's doors, waiting for the blacksmith to come out and show the poor sods how to defend themselves; the man having been strong-armed into training the wet-behind-the-ears welps that had come to the islands without so much as a clue as to how to fight the monsters that occupied Ilyamorra.
The owner of the general store, the young Rowen Velric, still sleeps, his windows magically tinted so that the sun may not ruin his rest. His life amongst the nobility of Maliusya obviously still guides his actions and his habits continue to annoy his colleagues amongst the other shops and businesses that make up their small village. Still, a few amateur adventurers sit outside his doors, waiting for the young man to rise and take notice of them. Many of them need supplies or enchantments.. Few others wait so that they may watch the man ply his trade and perhaps learn a thing or two.
As the other citizens of the small town of Ebonblut might just be getting about to their morning tasks (the general store owner, and perhaps the blacksmith being the only known exceptions), the owner of the Inn has already been awake for hours. In the Crow's Song Inn, the massive, sturdy building seated upon a lone hill set on the edge of the village, nearest the harbor, the owner has been busy dealing with his usual, morning business.
“Come now, get up...” The voice of the Inn Keeper could be heard saying from inside of the Inn. “It's time for you to sober up.. I can't have a pile of drunkards tripping up everyone...” The sounds of shuffling, like bodies being forced upwards and being dragged could then be heard, accompanied by the sounds of rather large men groaning and gurgling, their minds still a pile of stew after the night before.. The doors to the Inn would suddenly swing open, the metal framed, wooden doors slamming against the sturdy walls of the building's entry way as the Inn Keeper walked outside, barren of all clothing save his sleeping trousers, accompanied by the in-comprehensive bodies of his nightly patrons. With three men hanging off of the Inn Keeper's back, their bodies being held aloft by a single hand wrapped around the collars of their tunics, and a body dragging behind him on the ground, held by his other hand, he greets the morning with a rather warm smile. “Well, this is a rather fine day to sober up, isn't it?” He'd ask the drunkards in a rather good-hearted way before casually tossing them over his shoulder, off the side of the large, wooden porch that lined the top of the hill like a crown, and watched them fall into a strategically placed pond below. With sadistic glee, the Inn Keeper would watch as the men would writhe and scream as the cold water woke them rather suddenly and brought upon the pains of a hedonistic night before they were really due. The Inn Keeper would then turn, dropping the man he'd been dragging along into the pond with his compatriots as he did, and walked back into the Crow's Song, stretching all the while.
The Inn Keeper, the infamous but respected Sage, walked back to his own, private room that was housed in the fore-section of the Inn, making up roughly a fifth of the large building's construction. He sat atop the large, soft bed that he came home to each night and rubbed at his eyes for a few moments as they tried to adjust to the growing brightness that the sun brought each morning. Today would be yet another busy day; the townspeople and perhaps even the farmers would come by for their morning meals, the poor rookies from the night watch would come back for some ale and a bit of rest, and his short staff would complain rather abundantly about their daily tasks. To add fuel to that fire, Sage would also have to make a trip to the Smithy to collect the new tankards and dining ware that his old friend was supposed to craft for him, and would naturally be met with yet another excuse about how it couldn't be done that day.
Sage heaved a great sigh as he ran his pale hand through his long, pitch black hair, moving it away from his crimson eyes. As was his daily custom, Sage asked the world why he'd gone to such trouble to come and stay on the isles, why he stayed and watched as others came and perished on the cursed isles as he simply supported them as nothing more than an Inn Keeper. “I'm sure he will remind me again today, if I ask...” Sage would say as the thought of confiding in his friend arose in his mind as he pushed himself from his bed, ready to clothe himself and begin his day.
The night air was crisp to say the least, uneventful to elaborate. Though the isles at the best of times seemed temperate, the nightly curse of cold winds and dreadful feet on your doorstep cut through the comfort of the strongest flames. The unlucky, damned, or otherwise stupid tended to get the night watch; Bulfor fit the first two exceptionally well. Tonight though he was far from the idiot taking a night watch without reason. He'd coined out of two men enough that he would buy a feast come morning, and no encroaching monsters could hold back the satisfaction of a full meal for the bear of a man. Hunger seemed a constant problem with him, what with the bastard inn keeper being so stingy about tabs.
The whistling fire of the magical torches seemed to stay strong throughout the night, but finally one by one they began to be extinguished as the night watch had ended. Bulfor heaved out a great stretch and yawn to welcome in the rising sun and bid ado to his post like an old friend. As every inch of him vaulted from the center rung of the ladder to the ground his bulk shook the earth beneath his feet, startling the two that came to replace him. New ones again today. Bulfor hummed in his mind wondering why less and less of the veterans went to the walls. It wasn't as though the nights job was particularly hard, nor was the days; however to leave the lives of the settlement, no matter how grizzled its inhabitants were to some fresh blood looking to make a coin or two was in Bulfors mind dangerous.
"Uh, Sir, where's the other watchmen with you?" The taller of the two men asked. His face was freshly shaven and he couldn't have been much older than twenty. The other with him, though shorter seemed to have a better grasp of the situation as his eyes were already looking atop the wall for any signs of a battle that went unwarned in the night.
"Gone."
The two 'boys' as Bulfor would consider them seemed bothered by this, so he elaborated.
"H'int dead, I jus' got some coin fer bein' up all night."
A slow nod from the taller of the two had the veteran rolling his eyes and stepping past the two of them as they clambered up the shoddy ladders to the top of the even shabbier wall. As it tapered off in the distance Bulfor made his way with heavy coin purse in tow to the inn for a well deserved breakfast. Breaching the crest of the hill in time to see the nightly drunks being ushered out he sighed feeling that this morning would be a tedious one filled with missing food, annoyed servers and a disgruntled owner.
The heavy doors opened wide as Bulfor stepped into the room. One of the first from the night watch save for a few who'd likely left duties early he found himself a large chair and took a seat in the corner. The inside of the inn was warm and welcoming, even after a cool night. The light pooled in the center of the room and long shadows hung in every corner for the weary to sleep beneath. Awaiting a server to come and take his order Bulfor began to nod of, his head aggressively jerking up and down as he fell in and out of his stupor.
The whistling fire of the magical torches seemed to stay strong throughout the night, but finally one by one they began to be extinguished as the night watch had ended. Bulfor heaved out a great stretch and yawn to welcome in the rising sun and bid ado to his post like an old friend. As every inch of him vaulted from the center rung of the ladder to the ground his bulk shook the earth beneath his feet, startling the two that came to replace him. New ones again today. Bulfor hummed in his mind wondering why less and less of the veterans went to the walls. It wasn't as though the nights job was particularly hard, nor was the days; however to leave the lives of the settlement, no matter how grizzled its inhabitants were to some fresh blood looking to make a coin or two was in Bulfors mind dangerous.
"Uh, Sir, where's the other watchmen with you?" The taller of the two men asked. His face was freshly shaven and he couldn't have been much older than twenty. The other with him, though shorter seemed to have a better grasp of the situation as his eyes were already looking atop the wall for any signs of a battle that went unwarned in the night.
"Gone."
The two 'boys' as Bulfor would consider them seemed bothered by this, so he elaborated.
"H'int dead, I jus' got some coin fer bein' up all night."
A slow nod from the taller of the two had the veteran rolling his eyes and stepping past the two of them as they clambered up the shoddy ladders to the top of the even shabbier wall. As it tapered off in the distance Bulfor made his way with heavy coin purse in tow to the inn for a well deserved breakfast. Breaching the crest of the hill in time to see the nightly drunks being ushered out he sighed feeling that this morning would be a tedious one filled with missing food, annoyed servers and a disgruntled owner.
The heavy doors opened wide as Bulfor stepped into the room. One of the first from the night watch save for a few who'd likely left duties early he found himself a large chair and took a seat in the corner. The inside of the inn was warm and welcoming, even after a cool night. The light pooled in the center of the room and long shadows hung in every corner for the weary to sleep beneath. Awaiting a server to come and take his order Bulfor began to nod of, his head aggressively jerking up and down as he fell in and out of his stupor.
Dawn, in all it's glory, shone upon once more upon these cursed isles bringing to the light that which the shadows had hid. The sights and sounds of the locals going about their short lives had the half breed Davian Aeruion silently laughing. They were so ill equipped to deal with the darkness of night, so helpless before it's omnipotent presence. Instead seeking the bottle, the feasting tables, the embrace of sex, and whatever crutches got them through the darkness of the time of shadows. And those condemned to the night watch lit their lights, which only earned them scorn from him. After all the shadows were as easy to see in, why bother with the light? But the shadow blind fools only made his job easy, well more like his training really. For he was pickpocketing those upon crude walls and walking around the streets careless of what their own shadow hid.
This is far too easy, even a dark blind fool should not be this easy to steal from He thought as he shadow jumped from his hiding place between two of the lamps. The Shadowdancer always found it ironic that the deepest shadows were always between two lights. That the sliver of shadow created was so dense that a novice could clad themselves in it with so little effort. Appearing in the well of his mark's shadow Davian left the man poorer for his lack of caution and knowledge of what his own shadow hid.
Deciding that he had trained enough for this night, he had amassed enough coin to keep him going, the half elf strode into the light of the dawn. The Shadowdancer did wish briefly that he was in one of the royal cities of the various realms. Not only was there more coin to steal there were was always a contract to fulfil. Assassination was a far greater test of his ability then mere petty theft, not to mention it paid far more. But mere coin was not his only goal, he had in his sixty one years had earned more then enough. Then again he had a lot of life ahead courtesy of his elven blood.
But Davian's real reason for having set forth to these isles was not the paycheck. No it was the chance to succeed beyond the judgement of his clan. Sure the life of an assassin had it's perks but even his grey elf kin would not recognize those accomplishments. No he was here to truly make a name for himself beyond his infamy, and unknowingly trying in some sort of convoluted way prove himself more elven then human. The Shadowdancer would never admit to such a thing...even to himself.
Counting out the night's take the half elf decided he had enough to justify a stop at the local gathering. For he could use a glass of green nectar wine , his preferred crutch of choice. For it's taste reminded Davian of the lands his clan were wont to wander. He however never had drank more then three half glasses for at the same time it woke once more that desire to return home. And homesickness had no place in his shadowed heart at the moment.
The streets filling with people as dawn moved towards early morning and burned off the mists blowing in from the ocean the Davian unconsciously showed a slight sneer. If asked he might have passed it off as the scent of the unwashed masses offending his elven senses. His flowing and graceful stride marked him out amongst them and so might have backed up such a claim. But he was both broader of shoulder and features then his slender and delicate kin. The Shadowdancer was also a handspan taller then most of his clan. Those that pointed out such things were doing so at their own risk though. For he refused the human blood in his veins and had killed one woman who went too far in pointing out his human blood.
Stepping through the doors Davian eyed with approval the shadow draped sections of the place.
This is far too easy, even a dark blind fool should not be this easy to steal from He thought as he shadow jumped from his hiding place between two of the lamps. The Shadowdancer always found it ironic that the deepest shadows were always between two lights. That the sliver of shadow created was so dense that a novice could clad themselves in it with so little effort. Appearing in the well of his mark's shadow Davian left the man poorer for his lack of caution and knowledge of what his own shadow hid.
Deciding that he had trained enough for this night, he had amassed enough coin to keep him going, the half elf strode into the light of the dawn. The Shadowdancer did wish briefly that he was in one of the royal cities of the various realms. Not only was there more coin to steal there were was always a contract to fulfil. Assassination was a far greater test of his ability then mere petty theft, not to mention it paid far more. But mere coin was not his only goal, he had in his sixty one years had earned more then enough. Then again he had a lot of life ahead courtesy of his elven blood.
But Davian's real reason for having set forth to these isles was not the paycheck. No it was the chance to succeed beyond the judgement of his clan. Sure the life of an assassin had it's perks but even his grey elf kin would not recognize those accomplishments. No he was here to truly make a name for himself beyond his infamy, and unknowingly trying in some sort of convoluted way prove himself more elven then human. The Shadowdancer would never admit to such a thing...even to himself.
Counting out the night's take the half elf decided he had enough to justify a stop at the local gathering. For he could use a glass of green nectar wine , his preferred crutch of choice. For it's taste reminded Davian of the lands his clan were wont to wander. He however never had drank more then three half glasses for at the same time it woke once more that desire to return home. And homesickness had no place in his shadowed heart at the moment.
The streets filling with people as dawn moved towards early morning and burned off the mists blowing in from the ocean the Davian unconsciously showed a slight sneer. If asked he might have passed it off as the scent of the unwashed masses offending his elven senses. His flowing and graceful stride marked him out amongst them and so might have backed up such a claim. But he was both broader of shoulder and features then his slender and delicate kin. The Shadowdancer was also a handspan taller then most of his clan. Those that pointed out such things were doing so at their own risk though. For he refused the human blood in his veins and had killed one woman who went too far in pointing out his human blood.
Stepping through the doors Davian eyed with approval the shadow draped sections of the place.
The sun shone in through the half-open shades causing the girl in the bed to seep striped. She turned and one of the striped of light covered her eyes for a moment. She groaned and turned the other way in order to try and gather more sleep from the already late time. She sighed and opened her eyes slowly as if it was painful and she squinted and raised her hand to her head to rest her forearm over her forehead. She untangled her legs from the sheets that had somehow wrapped around her like a toga and sat up. She reached her arms around her back and her hands touch as she stretched, groaning softly.
The soft sounds of Ebonblut could be heard through her window now, and she stood quickly, ready to face the day. She was caught off guard by a sudden head rush, and staggered to the window to steady herself. Once she had regained her sight and didn't feel like vomiting, she opened the shades that covered the window so that the light in the room brightened and small specks of dust could be seen floating in the air. She turned to the large doors that were on the opposite side of the room and opened them, breathing in the cold air as she stepped outside for the first time that day.
Juliette heard a ruckus from a bit off and turned her head only to the the innkeeper throwing several men over his back into the cold waters below. She chuckled to her self, she wouldn't want those drunkards coming to her bathhouse. She shivered, and wandered back inside, shutting the french doors behind her and turning towards her dresser to get dressed. It wasn't too cold out, she thought and so decided to wear her light cloak if she went out today. She left her silk gloves off and stuck them in a hidden pocket in her dress in case she needed them later. She slipped on her boots and grabbed her staff from its holding case, slipping it in her belt and heading out of the shouji-like door that entered to the hallway from her room.
Making her way passed the small private upstairs kitchen, she decided to eat breakfast later, since there was much work to do today. She dashed down the stairs quietly, hearing the people who worked for her standing around in the downstairs kitchen, it seemed as though they had just come in.
"Good morning," she smiled at everyone and then turned to the empty fireplace. With a tap of the staff that she wore on her side the fireplace danced to life, immediately warming up the room. "We have a busy day ahead, so everyone get your uniforms on and get to your posts." she smiled around and everyone began to bustle around and get their uniforms. Juliette turned and headed towards the front entrance of the bathhouse and grabbed a broom on her way. She stepped out onto the front of the bathhouse, with its wrap-around porch. She nodded at people who looked her way as people started their days and began to sweep the front side of the porch. the sun was bright today, she noticed and smiled up at the sky for a moment before turning around to face the person who had just opened the door behind her. It was one of her workers.
"We're just lighting the bath's fire now, miss," she said to Juliette.
"Thank you, Clara," Juliette said, smiling still. "I'll let you know if their are any picky customers today." The girl turned and slid the door closed behind her. Juliette moved closer to the door and unlocked it with a touch of her staff. She turned the sign that hung on the edge of the door with a flick of her wrist. The Celeste Siren was now open for business.
The soft sounds of Ebonblut could be heard through her window now, and she stood quickly, ready to face the day. She was caught off guard by a sudden head rush, and staggered to the window to steady herself. Once she had regained her sight and didn't feel like vomiting, she opened the shades that covered the window so that the light in the room brightened and small specks of dust could be seen floating in the air. She turned to the large doors that were on the opposite side of the room and opened them, breathing in the cold air as she stepped outside for the first time that day.
Juliette heard a ruckus from a bit off and turned her head only to the the innkeeper throwing several men over his back into the cold waters below. She chuckled to her self, she wouldn't want those drunkards coming to her bathhouse. She shivered, and wandered back inside, shutting the french doors behind her and turning towards her dresser to get dressed. It wasn't too cold out, she thought and so decided to wear her light cloak if she went out today. She left her silk gloves off and stuck them in a hidden pocket in her dress in case she needed them later. She slipped on her boots and grabbed her staff from its holding case, slipping it in her belt and heading out of the shouji-like door that entered to the hallway from her room.
Making her way passed the small private upstairs kitchen, she decided to eat breakfast later, since there was much work to do today. She dashed down the stairs quietly, hearing the people who worked for her standing around in the downstairs kitchen, it seemed as though they had just come in.
"Good morning," she smiled at everyone and then turned to the empty fireplace. With a tap of the staff that she wore on her side the fireplace danced to life, immediately warming up the room. "We have a busy day ahead, so everyone get your uniforms on and get to your posts." she smiled around and everyone began to bustle around and get their uniforms. Juliette turned and headed towards the front entrance of the bathhouse and grabbed a broom on her way. She stepped out onto the front of the bathhouse, with its wrap-around porch. She nodded at people who looked her way as people started their days and began to sweep the front side of the porch. the sun was bright today, she noticed and smiled up at the sky for a moment before turning around to face the person who had just opened the door behind her. It was one of her workers.
"We're just lighting the bath's fire now, miss," she said to Juliette.
"Thank you, Clara," Juliette said, smiling still. "I'll let you know if their are any picky customers today." The girl turned and slid the door closed behind her. Juliette moved closer to the door and unlocked it with a touch of her staff. She turned the sign that hung on the edge of the door with a flick of her wrist. The Celeste Siren was now open for business.
Despite the bright light entering his room, Gavin continued to sleep. He had never been an early riser, which greatly grated on the nerves of Eden. It was difficult for him to rise before the sun only to work in the fields or herd the cows. Thankfully, he didn't have to show up until late today as he decided to find a master to teach him the ways of the sword.
He finally stirred in his sleep as he heard the footsteps of travelers pound in the hallway. With a great sigh, he pulled himself up, revealing his naked chest. He could already tell that today would be a bad day. Though, he always felt that way when he first woke up.
He struggled to get dressed and get down the stairs as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He thought about asking around about who would teach him swordsmanship, but then he decided that he was too tired. No one would find him approachable in his current state. Eventually, he found himself at the outskirts of Eden's farm.
"EDEN!" He shouted, calling her from the crops to which she had been tending. As she approached him, he struggled to keep his thoughts away from how beautiful she was, but he failed miserably.
He finally stirred in his sleep as he heard the footsteps of travelers pound in the hallway. With a great sigh, he pulled himself up, revealing his naked chest. He could already tell that today would be a bad day. Though, he always felt that way when he first woke up.
He struggled to get dressed and get down the stairs as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He thought about asking around about who would teach him swordsmanship, but then he decided that he was too tired. No one would find him approachable in his current state. Eventually, he found himself at the outskirts of Eden's farm.
"EDEN!" He shouted, calling her from the crops to which she had been tending. As she approached him, he struggled to keep his thoughts away from how beautiful she was, but he failed miserably.
The dawn; Soki had been up a couple of hours before, putting the finishing touches on the tankards as well as the dining ware he had promised Sage he'd finish at some point of course. Once he finished a couple of sets of both, he could only sigh with a bit of relief. The looming shadow of Sage no longer hanging over his actions each day would mean he could spend less time on the forging of simple things, and focus on the forging of swords and such. He didn't much enjoy having to train the newer generation of adventurers. They weren't really ready to fight anything on this island, they barely knew how to hold the blade the right way let alone know which part of the weapon to stab their enemies with. Well maybe that was to harsh of an observation.
He sighed softly leaning lightly against the wall near his anvil. He was stuck here fixing weapons, then again he choose this life making swords forging blades for rookie warriors and fixing farm gear for farmers. This wasn't exactly what he expected he'd be doing once they got here. Though here he was, sun beginning to peak through his windows. It wouldn't be too long before his door would be pounded on by the young-lings for some training. He moved towards the stair case leading upwards towards the foliage of the tree his forge was built into, his room simple, nothing elegant a simple bed and dresser his armor in a chest located at the foot of his bed. with being so close up to the tree top the window was carved through the bark; leaves woven into blinds blocking out the sun. He enjoyed the shadows more then the light, a roguish past giving him the habit.
After a quick change from his usual forging outfit into a more relaxed fitting outfit from his island home. The bracer; a gift from Sage, placed cleanly over his right forearm. He moved down the stairs, to the sounds of pounding. "I'll be there in a minute!" He called out pulling a few simply made swords from the wall as he pushed the door open and tossed them to the first few of the adventurers at his door. "You all still need more training then I'd like take turns on the dummies, they've been reinforced with steel, and enchanted make a mistake those wooden blades in their hand will let you know." He said with a wave of his hand to shoo them off. "The rest of you, place your blades near the door and I will get to them when I've the time"
The men needed no persuading doing as he said right away without so much of a complaint. He could only smile with a bit of pride with the reputation he had earned from their arrival on the isle he was respected as the best swordsman on the isle. He usually spent the day watching over the progress of the younger swordsman, but for now he figured it was about time to pay Sage a visit. He retreated a moment back into his smithy to retrieve two crates; Sage's orders from the smithy, and then he was on his way.
A simple nod, or a wave was given to all that he passed as he made his way towards the Crow's Song. The walk was relaxing, the chill of the night slowly fading with the warmth of the sun, and the breeze filled with the smell of the ocean. A relaxing scent that helps keep your mind off the fact that they live on an island part of an archipelago that's filled with creatures and monsters that don't care who or what you are, they just want to eat you. Though now it was on his mind a shrug and a simple shake of the head he had his mind back on the task at hand. A deliver of the goods requested by the Inn owner.
Once he finally arrived at the Inn, he moved on inside towards the front desk placing the crates on it as he looked around. "Hmm, he's usually up by now, guess I'll just wait around for him.." he mumbled a tad to himself leaving the crates where they were. He made his way into the Tavern part of the Inn, moving his way to the bar and reaching behind and grabbing a bottle of; well he didn't much pay attention just opening it and taking a quick swig. If Sage was gonna make him wait, he was going to treat himself without worry of paying.
He sighed softly leaning lightly against the wall near his anvil. He was stuck here fixing weapons, then again he choose this life making swords forging blades for rookie warriors and fixing farm gear for farmers. This wasn't exactly what he expected he'd be doing once they got here. Though here he was, sun beginning to peak through his windows. It wouldn't be too long before his door would be pounded on by the young-lings for some training. He moved towards the stair case leading upwards towards the foliage of the tree his forge was built into, his room simple, nothing elegant a simple bed and dresser his armor in a chest located at the foot of his bed. with being so close up to the tree top the window was carved through the bark; leaves woven into blinds blocking out the sun. He enjoyed the shadows more then the light, a roguish past giving him the habit.
After a quick change from his usual forging outfit into a more relaxed fitting outfit from his island home. The bracer; a gift from Sage, placed cleanly over his right forearm. He moved down the stairs, to the sounds of pounding. "I'll be there in a minute!" He called out pulling a few simply made swords from the wall as he pushed the door open and tossed them to the first few of the adventurers at his door. "You all still need more training then I'd like take turns on the dummies, they've been reinforced with steel, and enchanted make a mistake those wooden blades in their hand will let you know." He said with a wave of his hand to shoo them off. "The rest of you, place your blades near the door and I will get to them when I've the time"
The men needed no persuading doing as he said right away without so much of a complaint. He could only smile with a bit of pride with the reputation he had earned from their arrival on the isle he was respected as the best swordsman on the isle. He usually spent the day watching over the progress of the younger swordsman, but for now he figured it was about time to pay Sage a visit. He retreated a moment back into his smithy to retrieve two crates; Sage's orders from the smithy, and then he was on his way.
A simple nod, or a wave was given to all that he passed as he made his way towards the Crow's Song. The walk was relaxing, the chill of the night slowly fading with the warmth of the sun, and the breeze filled with the smell of the ocean. A relaxing scent that helps keep your mind off the fact that they live on an island part of an archipelago that's filled with creatures and monsters that don't care who or what you are, they just want to eat you. Though now it was on his mind a shrug and a simple shake of the head he had his mind back on the task at hand. A deliver of the goods requested by the Inn owner.
Once he finally arrived at the Inn, he moved on inside towards the front desk placing the crates on it as he looked around. "Hmm, he's usually up by now, guess I'll just wait around for him.." he mumbled a tad to himself leaving the crates where they were. He made his way into the Tavern part of the Inn, moving his way to the bar and reaching behind and grabbing a bottle of; well he didn't much pay attention just opening it and taking a quick swig. If Sage was gonna make him wait, he was going to treat himself without worry of paying.
The rays of the rising sun signaled the end of Eden's household chores and the start of her day outside. The isle had been cleared of monsters for quite some time, but her father had instilled a schedule regardless. They would awake before dawn and tend to the house, as soon as the sun rose, it was safe to go outside and plant, harvest, weed the crops. This routine had been in place for as long as Eden could remember, but over the years it became harder to keep. As time passed, her sisters were married and moved on with their lives, Eden was lucky to hear from them more than once a year. Her parents grew older by the day and she had to take on more of the responsibilities. Unfortunately, her father passed away and the farm rested solely on her shoulders. While the help had grown smaller, the farm had grown larger. What was once a small farm that barely sustained the people living there grew into a much larger plot of land that grew enough crops for a half of the town. Eden had added a small section dedicated to herbs and ingredients that she could use in potions and healing.
Eden pulled her long hair back as she prepared for the hard days work ahead of her. More often than not, she could barely pull her way into bed before she collapsed into a dreamless sleep. Thankfully, her mother took care of the cooking and most of the cleaning inside. On days she felt particularly active, she'd harvest some of the ready crops and walk to town with Eden. This happened less and less frequently. Eden pulled on her standard work clothes as she stretched for the work to come. Today would be spent primarily in town. She needed to sell her crops. Before she could do that though, she needed to gather the last few bundles of corn.
After a few hours, she heard the familiar voice of her farm hand and friend, Gavin. He wasn't supposed to show up yet, but he always seemed to be hanging around before he needed to start work. Just her luck, she could make him carry the extra crops that wouldn't fit in her small cart. She approached him with her arms full of corn. "Well, hello there! Gav, come help me carry these inside." She knew he would do as she asked, they were friends, but she was also his boss of sorts.
They sorted out who would carry what while the other pulled the cart and made the short trek to town. Eden hoped today would be a good day. She needed to sell a lot of produce in order to afford the few ingredients she needed. Her mother was running low on medicine for her cough and Eden was the closet thing to a doctor that the town had. She shook the negative thoughts out of her mind and set out to have a grand time selling her wares and seeing the people in town.
Eden pulled her long hair back as she prepared for the hard days work ahead of her. More often than not, she could barely pull her way into bed before she collapsed into a dreamless sleep. Thankfully, her mother took care of the cooking and most of the cleaning inside. On days she felt particularly active, she'd harvest some of the ready crops and walk to town with Eden. This happened less and less frequently. Eden pulled on her standard work clothes as she stretched for the work to come. Today would be spent primarily in town. She needed to sell her crops. Before she could do that though, she needed to gather the last few bundles of corn.
After a few hours, she heard the familiar voice of her farm hand and friend, Gavin. He wasn't supposed to show up yet, but he always seemed to be hanging around before he needed to start work. Just her luck, she could make him carry the extra crops that wouldn't fit in her small cart. She approached him with her arms full of corn. "Well, hello there! Gav, come help me carry these inside." She knew he would do as she asked, they were friends, but she was also his boss of sorts.
They sorted out who would carry what while the other pulled the cart and made the short trek to town. Eden hoped today would be a good day. She needed to sell a lot of produce in order to afford the few ingredients she needed. Her mother was running low on medicine for her cough and Eden was the closet thing to a doctor that the town had. She shook the negative thoughts out of her mind and set out to have a grand time selling her wares and seeing the people in town.
- 7 posts here • Page 1 of 1
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View All » Add Character » 10 Characters to follow in this universe
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Gavin Brookshire
Making a name is harder than it seems.
Juliette Schwartz
"Life is at it's best when it is like water, shaping to the place that it is put in."
Eden Hargood
I'm not built for adventure.
Soki Shinozuka
"appearances aren't everything"
Wade Wesen
"...H-hi..."
Cain Segnen
"Adventure is very fun, isn't it?"
Trending
Cain Segnen
"Adventure is very fun, isn't it?"
Soki Shinozuka
"appearances aren't everything"
Gavin Brookshire
Making a name is harder than it seems.
Wade Wesen
"...H-hi..."
Juliette Schwartz
"Life is at it's best when it is like water, shaping to the place that it is put in."
Eden Hargood
I'm not built for adventure.
Most Followed
Cain Segnen
"Adventure is very fun, isn't it?"
Wade Wesen
"...H-hi..."
Gavin Brookshire
Making a name is harder than it seems.
Juliette Schwartz
"Life is at it's best when it is like water, shaping to the place that it is put in."
Eden Hargood
I'm not built for adventure.
Soki Shinozuka
"appearances aren't everything"
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The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
by Raven Lyer on Sat Dec 14, 2013 1:12 am
- 16 Replies
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- Last post by Leli
on Mon Dec 30, 2013 6:11 pm
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The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
Most recent OOC posts in The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
What with the seemingly great importance of the inn, I figured there would be a guiding post coming from you or sage frankly. If not I'm kind of lost as to what exactly to post, so I'll honestly pass for this round until something else presents itself.
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
As one of our people seems to be MIA, everyone is welcomed to post again, with it being his first post, he can catch up at some point, without the need for the rp to fully stop, so please feel free to post again.
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
okay, so the Rp will officially be starting tomorrow. The exact time isn't very clear, but yes it should be tomorrow; just an update for all those still desiring to do this rp ^^
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
Alright everyone.. Time to answer a few question with a little more detail than my associate has.. Alright.. To begin.. It is not an all male cast.. When I said men, I was referring to the largely human population the expedition consisted of. Next.. the class system.. Really, it's just any job, occupation, or title that would generally explain your character's goals and abilities as a whole. Now.. Guns.. Yes, that is always the tricky question in a fantasy RP... I imagine there could be guns.. But you need to know that Atramentia is the only nation with such inventions, and it is all magi-tech based.. Electricity made from non-magical means is a rather recent, and not wide-spread invention... Magic is not the end-all force in this.. The man that was mentioned in the story as having slain thousands of monsters has little to no grasp of magic. Non magic users can make it in this world.. As for the time frame.. It has been two years since the expedition experienced its success.. I hoped that was self-explanatory.. And yes, the main island is monster-free and safe.. Or, it is at least protected. I doubt monsters would just let them grow complacent. As for the pictures... You can use whatever sort of picture that you want. So long as your character is relevant to the world, I don't really give a damn.
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
As mandated by the Lord, and ruler King meanie (Sage) I'm suppose to put something funny, witty and charming so uh....
There you go, I've posted something "Witty" and "Charming" but on all serious note, please those with interest in joining if you have friends who enjoy fantasy-like rps please. please spark some interest we're not looking for hundreds of people but just enough to keep everything interesting, it's a whole newly inhabited island, with riches to be found, dangers to be explored and all that. so if you can throw a returning ass to the rp world a favor (I.E sage) It would be very helpful and much appreciated.
"I"m so cute do it for meh?"
There you go, I've posted something "Witty" and "Charming" but on all serious note, please those with interest in joining if you have friends who enjoy fantasy-like rps please. please spark some interest we're not looking for hundreds of people but just enough to keep everything interesting, it's a whole newly inhabited island, with riches to be found, dangers to be explored and all that. so if you can throw a returning ass to the rp world a favor (I.E sage) It would be very helpful and much appreciated.
"I"m so cute do it for meh?"
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
____ wrote:@fallacywonderland
The gm is probably taking about human, type of man, not the gender one.
I figured but wanted to make sure, thanks :p
Anyway, i am interested, will probably choose a longbow as weapon.. Probably.
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
the classes are what you want them to be if you wanna be a sorcerer that flings fireballs from a morning star go for it, as for guns not sure yet, since Sage is not currently on at the moment. The very first island where all of us will start is indeed monster free. and no you do not need to be some super human powered person, considering this is fantasy a frail hobbit could end the life of a dragon if you so desired, of course the dragon wouldn't give up without a fight, sorry it's late was about to go to bed but decided to check, is there anything else i missed, and the character sheet can be anime, or drawn, or random art; I don't know how Sage feels about real life pictures of people; but anything else is fine.
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
And is the time set on BCE? Because at first it was year 317, then by the first success it was year 315.
Is the first isle completely monster free?
And based on your previous characters, does the character sheet use anime pics?
Is the first isle completely monster free?
And based on your previous characters, does the character sheet use anime pics?
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
@fallacywonderland
The gm is probably talking about human, type of man, not the gender one.
The gm is probably talking about human, type of man, not the gender one.
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
You also seem to cast magic as the end all of abilities in its capability to slay hundreds of beasts that otherwise could not be slain. Does this mean that a purely physical character is going to be immediately slaughtered, or will we need to be some superhuman bastard in order to survive?
Also, since there seems to be a fair amount of interest already, are you going to apply a character or player limit?
Also, since there seems to be a fair amount of interest already, are you going to apply a character or player limit?
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
Another question, what about female characters? There seems to only be talk about the men, is that in the general sense as in mankind or are only male characters acceptable.
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
That question does beg not only what type of weapons are permitted but also what sort of abilities. You mention magic, is it available? And if so of what kind as this no doubt will effect class choice. Furthermore what sort of class system are aiming for, the classic sword&sorcery, the hack&slash with stealth options?
Re: The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
Hey, since electricity is already discovered on your rp, is there already gun as well? Since the setting is 317 I don't know if there should be guns.
The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra
This is the auto-generated OOC topic for the roleplay "The Cursed Isles of Ilyamorra"
It is now Spring of the year Three Hundred and Seventeen, During the Age of Peace.. The people of Valria, or more precisely, their monarchs and governors, have thus named every year after the end of the Great Valrian War, or simply the World War to the commoners. With the armies of Calris beaten back across its border, and the loss of the nation’s monarch, the end of the war sparked a new age of peace for the allied nations..
As the years went by, and the Age of Peace persisted, the nations began to disarm, no longer needing the staggeringly sized militaries the years past had demanded. Warriors were forced to put aside their weapons, children grew up not knowing the horrors of war, crowns were passed on to younger, more peace-minded rulers, nations expanded as their populations regrew.. The world of Valria had truly become a paradise for most.
Still, there are always those who cannot find a place in such a world.. There are those who need battle, who knew that peace could not last indefinitely.. Those who knew the world would need to be ready for the coming of the next age, when it would need heroes more sorely than the age before. As the nations settled into their peace, they left, seeking new parts of the world to explore and hone their skills as well as that of those who would follow them. They sought places of legend that would bring adventurers from around Valria, the restless who could become the heroes of the next age.
It is in such a place that we begin our story…
The isles of Ilyamorra… The eyes of Maliusya have turned upon this cluster of isles that lay just beyond its western coast line. It was said, long ago, that the isles were once part of Maliusya, a place of great magics and production… It was said that ancient magics had been weaved into the soil of these isles, causing everything to grow on a truly grand and expeditious scale. Grand forests with trees nearly a hundred feet tall occupied nearly half the islands, while nearly the entirety of the other half were covered in farm lands that produced more than the great nation truly knew what to do with… The isles had once been the reason for Maliusya’s great wealth.
However, such treasures tend to draw the wandering eyes of the greedy…
Over ten centuries before the Age of Peace, the conquering nation of Calris, under the rule of the Emperor, Cale, sought to conquer the isles and take the great lands as their own. The isles were poorly defended… They had little defense against the grand navy that Calris sent. The isle was abandoned as the ships came, its citizens evacuated.. All save one man. Refic Ulisa, chosen steward over the isles, and former Archmage of Maliusya, would not see his isles taken by such scum and villains.. He would not let his islands see a day that they would be used against the great nation that he so loved. Rufic poured all of his malice, all of his great wrath towards the enemy, and every shred of his love for his lands, into one spell.. One that would mean the end of his life, and the end of all human life on Ilyamorra. Magics changed the lands.. The trees grew ever taller and the forests consumed the old roads and pathways, the animals changed.. grey larger, more violent; few becoming monsters that rivalled those of legend. The island was surrounded in a heavy fog that only the strongest of magics would pierce, and the seas around the isle began to attract the most fearsome monsters from the deep. The ships of Calris arrived at the isle, expecting to find a paradise and treasure that would easily be won.. But instead found their ruin. Much of the fleet was destroyed by the abominations of the deep, or were broken upon the island’s shores, unable to see past the heavy fog. Those that managed to survive long enough to make it onto land were slaughtered by forces still unknown.
Thus it was that the Isles of Ilyamorra became known as the Cursed Isles, and for ten centuries none dared to look upon its wondrous shores again..
Until one day, a curious king stumbled upon the legends of old…
An expedition! Yes, that is what it was called by the king… Though the commoners, and even the nobles that frequented the castle that sat upon Mount Selithia, would call it nothing more than a suicide mission. The old king, a man who’d won his legend through the wars of the past, believed that retaking the isles would be the greatest achievement of the age, one to rival even Atramentia’s inventing of electricity, and set forth a new initiative that would shape the lives of adventurers for centuries to come.
Gold.. Yes, that is what he offered.. Gold and land.. To any and all those who would go to the Isles and once again make them habitable, the king offered enough gold to buy a barony.. To those who colonized the island, who were willing to move their families there and make new lives upon the hallowed and magical isles; he would give reward worthy of the knights of his circle, as well as much land as they could possibly manage.
These promises of reward drew the eyes of more than one stray adventurer or errant farmer.. Indeed, they drew droves of young adventurers, seasoned warriors, experienced magicians, and hopeful farmers. At first, the expedition went poorly… Ships full of wistful explorers and colonials disappeared.. As more ships disappeared, as more people were eradicated from this world of Valria, the people began t despair.. Perhaps their King’s expedition was merely a mad venture by a man who’d reached senility? Perhaps the Cursed Isles would stay lost forever?
The expedition continued to see such loss and the number of those willing to volunteer themselves for it dwindled to the point that only the truly desperate were willing to make the journey. It was not until the crown passed to King Frederic that the expedition saw its first bits of success. The day after Frederic’s crowning, a large number of ships set sail for Ilyamorra, and for nearly three seasons they were not heard from… But on the fifth day of the Winter of the year three hundred and fifteen, a single ship returned to Maliusya. Its crew, a group of now hardened sailors and adventurers, were brought before the king to tell them of all that had happened. They told of the journey there, of the sea monsters that berated them as they attempted to reach the island, they told of the dense fogs that protected it.. But they also spoke of the men who led them, of the man whose magic broke the fog, of the man who slew a hundred sea monsters of unbelievable size, of the man who held their spirits together as they made the hard journey. They then spoke of how these men protected them, how they fought and slew the monsters that waited on the land, how they brought heart to all those who looked upon them. They spoke of their success in clearing the lands on the isle, and of how they managed to make one of the isles safe for all those who wished to live there. Still, they spoke of how inhospitable the other isles were. The other two islands that joined to make Ilyamorra seemed to spawn new monsters to greet the adventurers and warriors that sought to retake them.. Of how much more organized the beasts upon them seemed to be, and of how the monsters only became stronger with the passing of time. Lastly, they spoke of a monster greater than others, a beast that commanded the others, that resided upon the third isle. It was assumed by the greatest of their warriors that the monster was the center of the curse, the embodiment of the magics of Refic Ulisa.
Now, here is where your story begins…
The expedition started with new fervor… The rewards were now obtainable, and the promises of a new life inspired many to make the journey… And so the adventurers and colonists once again made the journey in droves, arriving at the Isles of Ilyamorra safely now to find the island of Acker, the first of the isles, safe and inhabited partly by those who had braved the last, truly dangerous journey. Upon this large isle, a town had been set, one by the name of Ebonblut.. It had been surrounded by the growing farms of those colonists who’d braved the journey, arriving there to find soils fertile beyond belief that bore strong crops at a rate far more expeditious than even the legends told of. However… The cruel lands had taken their toll on these new inhabitants.. The attempts to take the second isle, the isle of Admeta, ended in the deaths of many.. And those few courageous souls who had ventured to the isle of Adair, the isle covered entirely in trees hundreds of feet tall, to face the great beast never returned.
Still, the new adventurers were welcomed to the isles by their precursors, and the colonials were welcomed by lands that could provide for them and their families, so long as there were still those alive that could protect them.
So, now there is only one question to ask.. One answer that will start this tale of how the Cursed Isles once more became the paradise of legend…
Who are you?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Character Sheet:
Name:
Age:
Race:
Class:(no techonological classes anything else is fine...no Doctor whos)
Weapon(s) of choice:
Personality:
Height:
Weight:
Bio:
It is now Spring of the year Three Hundred and Seventeen, During the Age of Peace.. The people of Valria, or more precisely, their monarchs and governors, have thus named every year after the end of the Great Valrian War, or simply the World War to the commoners. With the armies of Calris beaten back across its border, and the loss of the nation’s monarch, the end of the war sparked a new age of peace for the allied nations..
As the years went by, and the Age of Peace persisted, the nations began to disarm, no longer needing the staggeringly sized militaries the years past had demanded. Warriors were forced to put aside their weapons, children grew up not knowing the horrors of war, crowns were passed on to younger, more peace-minded rulers, nations expanded as their populations regrew.. The world of Valria had truly become a paradise for most.
Still, there are always those who cannot find a place in such a world.. There are those who need battle, who knew that peace could not last indefinitely.. Those who knew the world would need to be ready for the coming of the next age, when it would need heroes more sorely than the age before. As the nations settled into their peace, they left, seeking new parts of the world to explore and hone their skills as well as that of those who would follow them. They sought places of legend that would bring adventurers from around Valria, the restless who could become the heroes of the next age.
It is in such a place that we begin our story…
The isles of Ilyamorra… The eyes of Maliusya have turned upon this cluster of isles that lay just beyond its western coast line. It was said, long ago, that the isles were once part of Maliusya, a place of great magics and production… It was said that ancient magics had been weaved into the soil of these isles, causing everything to grow on a truly grand and expeditious scale. Grand forests with trees nearly a hundred feet tall occupied nearly half the islands, while nearly the entirety of the other half were covered in farm lands that produced more than the great nation truly knew what to do with… The isles had once been the reason for Maliusya’s great wealth.
However, such treasures tend to draw the wandering eyes of the greedy…
Over ten centuries before the Age of Peace, the conquering nation of Calris, under the rule of the Emperor, Cale, sought to conquer the isles and take the great lands as their own. The isles were poorly defended… They had little defense against the grand navy that Calris sent. The isle was abandoned as the ships came, its citizens evacuated.. All save one man. Refic Ulisa, chosen steward over the isles, and former Archmage of Maliusya, would not see his isles taken by such scum and villains.. He would not let his islands see a day that they would be used against the great nation that he so loved. Rufic poured all of his malice, all of his great wrath towards the enemy, and every shred of his love for his lands, into one spell.. One that would mean the end of his life, and the end of all human life on Ilyamorra. Magics changed the lands.. The trees grew ever taller and the forests consumed the old roads and pathways, the animals changed.. grey larger, more violent; few becoming monsters that rivalled those of legend. The island was surrounded in a heavy fog that only the strongest of magics would pierce, and the seas around the isle began to attract the most fearsome monsters from the deep. The ships of Calris arrived at the isle, expecting to find a paradise and treasure that would easily be won.. But instead found their ruin. Much of the fleet was destroyed by the abominations of the deep, or were broken upon the island’s shores, unable to see past the heavy fog. Those that managed to survive long enough to make it onto land were slaughtered by forces still unknown.
Thus it was that the Isles of Ilyamorra became known as the Cursed Isles, and for ten centuries none dared to look upon its wondrous shores again..
Until one day, a curious king stumbled upon the legends of old…
An expedition! Yes, that is what it was called by the king… Though the commoners, and even the nobles that frequented the castle that sat upon Mount Selithia, would call it nothing more than a suicide mission. The old king, a man who’d won his legend through the wars of the past, believed that retaking the isles would be the greatest achievement of the age, one to rival even Atramentia’s inventing of electricity, and set forth a new initiative that would shape the lives of adventurers for centuries to come.
Gold.. Yes, that is what he offered.. Gold and land.. To any and all those who would go to the Isles and once again make them habitable, the king offered enough gold to buy a barony.. To those who colonized the island, who were willing to move their families there and make new lives upon the hallowed and magical isles; he would give reward worthy of the knights of his circle, as well as much land as they could possibly manage.
These promises of reward drew the eyes of more than one stray adventurer or errant farmer.. Indeed, they drew droves of young adventurers, seasoned warriors, experienced magicians, and hopeful farmers. At first, the expedition went poorly… Ships full of wistful explorers and colonials disappeared.. As more ships disappeared, as more people were eradicated from this world of Valria, the people began t despair.. Perhaps their King’s expedition was merely a mad venture by a man who’d reached senility? Perhaps the Cursed Isles would stay lost forever?
The expedition continued to see such loss and the number of those willing to volunteer themselves for it dwindled to the point that only the truly desperate were willing to make the journey. It was not until the crown passed to King Frederic that the expedition saw its first bits of success. The day after Frederic’s crowning, a large number of ships set sail for Ilyamorra, and for nearly three seasons they were not heard from… But on the fifth day of the Winter of the year three hundred and fifteen, a single ship returned to Maliusya. Its crew, a group of now hardened sailors and adventurers, were brought before the king to tell them of all that had happened. They told of the journey there, of the sea monsters that berated them as they attempted to reach the island, they told of the dense fogs that protected it.. But they also spoke of the men who led them, of the man whose magic broke the fog, of the man who slew a hundred sea monsters of unbelievable size, of the man who held their spirits together as they made the hard journey. They then spoke of how these men protected them, how they fought and slew the monsters that waited on the land, how they brought heart to all those who looked upon them. They spoke of their success in clearing the lands on the isle, and of how they managed to make one of the isles safe for all those who wished to live there. Still, they spoke of how inhospitable the other isles were. The other two islands that joined to make Ilyamorra seemed to spawn new monsters to greet the adventurers and warriors that sought to retake them.. Of how much more organized the beasts upon them seemed to be, and of how the monsters only became stronger with the passing of time. Lastly, they spoke of a monster greater than others, a beast that commanded the others, that resided upon the third isle. It was assumed by the greatest of their warriors that the monster was the center of the curse, the embodiment of the magics of Refic Ulisa.
Now, here is where your story begins…
The expedition started with new fervor… The rewards were now obtainable, and the promises of a new life inspired many to make the journey… And so the adventurers and colonists once again made the journey in droves, arriving at the Isles of Ilyamorra safely now to find the island of Acker, the first of the isles, safe and inhabited partly by those who had braved the last, truly dangerous journey. Upon this large isle, a town had been set, one by the name of Ebonblut.. It had been surrounded by the growing farms of those colonists who’d braved the journey, arriving there to find soils fertile beyond belief that bore strong crops at a rate far more expeditious than even the legends told of. However… The cruel lands had taken their toll on these new inhabitants.. The attempts to take the second isle, the isle of Admeta, ended in the deaths of many.. And those few courageous souls who had ventured to the isle of Adair, the isle covered entirely in trees hundreds of feet tall, to face the great beast never returned.
Still, the new adventurers were welcomed to the isles by their precursors, and the colonials were welcomed by lands that could provide for them and their families, so long as there were still those alive that could protect them.
So, now there is only one question to ask.. One answer that will start this tale of how the Cursed Isles once more became the paradise of legend…
Who are you?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Character Sheet:
Name:
Age:
Race:
Class:(no techonological classes anything else is fine...no Doctor whos)
Weapon(s) of choice:
Personality:
Height:
Weight:
Bio: