Introduction
The Garden is a massive world, designed around guilds, βGamesβ of all types and used to test the mundane to the greatest demons in creation. The Garden itself is a fantastical bright and fantasy-esque world akin to Wonderland and other High/Bright Fantasy worlds you can imagineβ¦at least in some places. In others it more reflects a Post apocalyptic Fantasy land-scape, perhaps that in itself is a wonderland, especially if one is familiar with American McGeeβs Wonderlandian world of psychological disturbtion (I just made a wordβ¦yes, yes I did). The latter places are where great battles have been conducted, or Demon Lords have forced Guilds into cruel Guild games of their own design.
There are Various Cityβs around the place but no small towns, and Guilds have either buildings, large tracts of lands or entire sections of The Garden that they call their own, some even reside in other dimensions. The Garden itself on a map would be a flat square shaped world, however it functions as if it were a globe when travelling along its length. The world is four times as large as that we know and so various quick and possibly even instant means of transportation are availableβ¦for a price.
Technology
Technology in the little garden is some-what tricky, Powers and Genetic Changes play a big a role in society and combat as Technology does and so the lines have begun to blur. Especially considering Technology and people from nearly every time period seem to be cultivating in The Garden without affecting any city or groups advantages over others. The Garden remains in a constant balance when it comes to Technology, that is not to say that there is not more advanced tech elsewhere or expensive and hard to access materials available to the highest bidder. It is more to say that a Guild or Cityβs standing is not ranked or even reliant on it.
The Story
The story itself will revolve around peoples OCβs and their guild, The Nameless. A guild that was wiped out by a Demon Lord and is only just beginning to rise again, they have very few people who can participate in the games and despite owning a large piece of The Garden they have barely any resources as the land itself has been turned barren and lifeless. All the rewards they earnt in previous games removed and stolen along with their banner and several members of higher rank.
The characters will hopefully come from all walks of life and various time-lines if they so choose and will be tasked with rising in the ranks and participating in Guild Games to regain the guilds status and earn rewards to rebuild the land-scape. However, at any time the characters may leave the original guild and join another that they think will suit them and their needs better, in fact doing so will help add some interesting plot points to the role-play.
The characters will of course begin from the bottom and will be relatively weak and new to their powers/weaponry of choice. In most cases at least, things will depend on what people ask about etc, I am planning to accept as many PMβs as people send and answer any questions people have about characters or anything they themselves wish to do in the RP.
The (Perhaps evil) Plan
Well, the plan is to make this an extremely long-lasting and expanding role-play. That eventually spans across various genreβs and across many re-incarnations / new role-plays within the same world and after the events of the previous. Hopefully starring the same or at least some of the original characters, at least as NPCβs but hopefully as advancing/ leading characters. Albeit new characters could join etc through out and if anyones character had died or left the party the role-player is free to re-join as another if they so choose.
Regardless, the plan is to create an extremely long lasting and evolving story in the same world, one that gets more complex and in depth as time goes on. One that has characters you become attached to and that creates a sense of awe as the world expands and changes drastically.
For post size I expect at least 2-3 paragraphs per post, far less for fights between two player characters for quick exchanges, and 4 paragraphs minimum for important or drastically influential posts.
Character Skeleton
[Personal Detail]
Name:
Age: (Relatively young for your race/species please, it helps to evolve characters more as time flows)
Place of Birth:
Personality: (Description of a paragraph or more please)
Appearance: (Description of a paragraph or more please. I'd also like a picture if you so please.)
Spoken Languages:
Theme Song: (Entirely optional, if you think a song may help sum up your character or hint to things in the future)
[Combat Section] (Try not to just fill this section up with whatever so you can have one in every slot, think about your character deeply. and remove stuff you don't need for them.)
Weapons:
Powers:
Technology:
Skills:
Proficiency:
[Back-story]
Father:
Mother:
Connections and Affiliations:
History prior to The Garden:
Feel free to add or remove and make this look far better then it does, this is a straight up out-line of what I would like for you to have on your CS and I do some-what expect more variety and changes to be made however its fine to just stick with this as well.
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 15 authors
of having to work together in the future." The mage made a valid point, one which Pravus had kept in mind all throughout this current diversion. If he was going to succeed in the trials to come then he would need to know each of his allies strengths and weaknesses as well as those of their enemies. At least, until he could break away to bury those who died that day. His allegiance to the Nameless was in face alone. The truth was buried deep, hidden from discovery.
"We must share our knowledge of runes some time," Keres spoke to him, her voice as soft as her smile.
"You must have some very interesting stories to tell." Her hand gently brushed over the large thick sleeve on his arm. In his undeath all sense of feeling had long since left him. He was only be aware by this point if something was touching him or not. Both the heat and textures of any object his skin comes directly into contact with is lost to him. He could only identify shape and the pressure with which it is pressing on him, nothing else. It was extraordinarily odd because of that why he would even noticed something like Keres's hands not really even disturbing his sleeve. He noticed that small gesture even though he felt nothing. Even though it was faint it was not normal, not at all.
He simply nodded to her before hearing the voice of Myon behind him. " U-Um, Mister Pravus. Are you coming? We'll head back by ourselves if you wish to stay." He turned and proceeded out the door with them. "I shall follow." Was all he said before carefully closing the door behind him, a very precise and deliberate movement. As a Grave Tender almost everything he did was with a surgeons precision. After all, in his job care for all the details was a core element. With all those strange encounters he was happy to put them behind him to go pursue better uses of his time.
During the last few minutes of conversation he had noticed two things about her. One, she tended to make flirtatious passes. Two, when he suggested to share knowledge, she seemed unsettled, maybe because of his lack of feedback towards her charm, in voice or behaviour. Hopefully now with just him and the monkey for her to try and influence she would stop her charm, as even though he resisted it, it was still an annoyance to be made aware of constantly.
However she seemed politely compliant as she with a blush asked for his name. "Ivan would do." He replied. "At least here I won't be called Sir Witherbane, Counselman Ivan, Counselman Witherbane or as the students tend to call me Overlord of the labs and library." As he thought his eyes wandered off to the monkey on the shelf. He still didn't know her name, and calling her monkey would be insulting, he'd assume. "Forgive me if I missed it somewhere before, but I still don't know your name." He said looking at the monkey.
She spun the bo in her hands absently, the tips of it only just clearing the low ceiling.
βOr maybe they were very large rats, they did have very long tails. They didnβt want to talk to me, so I never figured out what they wanted.
βThose are elvish runes, Keres? Elves are jerks. Or, at least all the elves Iβve met were jerks. But they were all in exile from their homes. It could be they were jerks because they were in exile, or,β she raised a brow, βin exile because they were jerks. Were the elves you knew very rude?β
Upon using inductive reasoning with both known knowledge of Elves and what was seen and heard in that room, Aera wrote down her assumptions and accusations about Keres in her log-book she carried with her. Once more, the profile was paired with a horrible drawing of Keres. Though her writing is neater than most scribes from her homeland, her drawings are worse than that of a 4 year old finger-painter.
All that was said, was said on the way to their room. Aera had gone ahead, mumbling to herself. Myon stayed with Pravus.
"Oh dear....Mistress has gotten quite the bad impression of Lady Keres hasn't she? Hopefully none of that turns out to be true... P-Pravus...I noticed you're using your shovel as some kind of cane... Did you legs give out on you? If you need anything just ask ok?"
Myon continued to float next to Pravus with a worried expression. She didn't want anybody to be in more pain than they need to be in.
The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden
Aera Kirishma left the room, to her displeasure. She did not like leaving her enemies - or anyone, for that matter - with an ill impression of her. Furthermore, her other half followed her out of the room and soon, the Grave Tender did, too. She was quite enjoying their frivolous company. They were significantly more interesting than the High Elves of Thalvador. Now they could've slaughtered her with their lengthy lectures on the benefits of freezing waterfalls on the Elvish psyche and spirit. She'd spent over two millenniums as a virgin. The first thing she'd done when she left was to break the ridiculous vows of celibacy the monks imposed upon her.
"Ivan would do," the Counselman said shortly. She nodded in acknowledgement, showering him with her radiancy for all it was worth. She didn't think he would be phased if she made a million beads of light cascade over him. The phlegmatic Magi seemed apathetic to her advances. Perhaps he was not interested in the opposite sex. Her dimple deepened with her smile. Challenge accepted.
"Forgive me if I missed it somewhere before, but I still don't know your name," Ivan spoke toward the monkey on the shelf.
βTiotio. Nothing very odd or interesting has ever happened to me, well, besides this,β came the apathetic reply. βThough one times I was assaulted by a well trained group of what must have been very small horses. Or maybe they were very large rats, they did have very long tails. They didnβt want to talk to me, so I never figured out what they wanted." Dogs? Keres hid a laugh behind her sleeve. She looked to Tiotio with a grin. I think I might be falling in love.
βThose are elvish runes, Keres?" Her grin faltered. "Elves are jerks." Keres laughed, this time not bothering to muffle her dancing voice in the air, sounding like the waltz of a dozen wind chimes. "Or, at least all the elves Iβve met were jerks. But they were all in exile from their homes. It could be they were jerks because they were in exile, or, in exile because they were jerks. Were the elves you knew very rude?β She shook her head, her laugh drifting into a light chuckle.
"Yes," she replied, humour trembling the letters of her words. "Yes, Tiotio. You are absolutely right. I agree," she said excitedly. She'd never met anyone else who held her own opinion, or perhaps she had. No one was brave enough to vocalise it, however. Elves are as powerful as - "They are jerks," she echoed. "Worse, they are deluded. They think every other race is crude whilst they remain saints. The epitomes of perfection," she said the last sentence in a low, stern voice, mimicking the monotonous speech of her elders. "We are the vessels of the pure and natural Magicks," she mocked with an upward tilt of her head, glancing at Tiotio past her slim and delicate upturned nose. "Unlike those pesky Magi." She turned to Ivan with a cheeky smile playing on her lips and an apologetic shrug. "Sorry."
Keres glided over to her bed with an uncanny grace, seating herself with flourish. "Ugh," she grunted in mock disgust. "A commoner's lodgings!" Crimson eyes squinted at the sheets as she pretended to pick up something from it with pinched fingers. She gasped in horror. "What is this heresy? No, it cannot be... Someone, someone..." she muttered. "Has procreated in these chambers." She feigned dizziness and collapsed onto her bed, an arm slung across her forehead in despair. She closed her eyes for a few moments and remained silent. "And that," she finally said in her own voice. "Is why I left." Among other things.
In one abrupt movement, she sat up on her bed. "It is getting quite late. You must both be worn from today's events. You will return to your own rooms?" she asked or told Ivan - it was hard to tell. "Unless you would care to join us," she teased - or challenged.
The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
Pravus had heard a portion of what Aera had mentioned of Keres as she proceeded down the hallway muttering with her nose and her quill in what appeared to be her diary. He was more inclined to see Keres more like how Myon saw her but the more he thought about it the less sense it made. Besides the curiosity towards her magic runes he had literally no good reason to show as much interest in her as he did. To him it sort of felt like something was pulling at something of his that was no longer present. A phantom limb syndrome but not for any physical limbs of his but something else. Something he had forgotten long ago.
As for Myon, his interest was genuine. There was never a time where he didn't feel some form of kinship with the lingering spirits of the dead. While he waited with Myon in the hall, ready to follow her in case she wound up getting lost or stuck somewhere, He reached down to a hole in his armor near the center of the torso where the divinely gifted blade struck. His hand inserted itself inside his chest through the breach in his body and he moved his hand in deep. He gently stroked the inner half of his spine, checking the damage to it. Most of it was fine but one section absorbed a majority of the kinetic force placed upon it by the explosion down in the hole during his battle with the wretched disease beast.
"I wouldn't ask you go out of your way to simply assist me if it would be troublesome to you."
He humbly responded to her offer. "It's not my legs that are the issue though. It is my spine which was damaged in the explosion back in the tunnels. I'm supporting my back to prevent further aggravation of the injury until I can see
a proper medic. Lack of intact tools also hinder me to some extent."
Keres then went on to invite Ivan to join her for the night in a teasing manner, or perhaps challenging him. Perhaps hoping that which a barrage of magic couldn't secure, a night in bed with the high priestess would solve. "To be invited to spend the night with such a beautiful lady such as yourself is certainly very tempting..." Ivan said as he walked to the bed eres was sitting on. He placed his hand on the bed next to Keres, then leaned over as if going to kiss Keres. But his head slid past hers and he softly whispered into her ears: "But I can't accept the offer." Of course he wouldn't go in on an offer made by someone that kept trying to influence him. Beyond that, even if he was okay with spending the night with Keres, she wasn't the only one in the room and he didn't want to put Tiotio in an awkward position.
"Your tools are broken? Is that why you can't fix yourself? Well where can we get newer ones Pravus? I hate seeing you like this... You seem like some Elderly man who needs help crossing the road... No offence of course.
Myon is oblivious to what offends people and what REALLY offends people. She was unsure of whether or not she went too far with that last comment and hoped she hadn't. She know Pravus can make physical contact with her, and after seeing him in the battle field... She didn't want to make an enemy of him.
He didn't really take her comparison too hard. It was a little off. Despite how it may of appeared he was still able to perform most ordinary duties well enough. Fighting was another matter, far too much stress on the body to safely engage in without risk of seriously disabling himself. He couldn't disagree with her assessment of his physical capability despite how it may be. He was weak, at the mercy of fate and whatever it had to throw in his path. The sooner he could find something or someone to mend the damage done the better.
"No offense taken. I do not know of where to find new equipment suited for the task. At best I could make some crude splints but that would impose limitations on my movement. I'd rather be able to utilize my full movements at risk of further damage than not be able to sufficiently defend myself should the need arise. My best bet would be to wait for the Nameless's leader to make his assessment, limiting the amount of unnecessary movement I do until I know more about this world or find an opportunity to seek such knowledge. As of now I should see what this leader has to offer as it would be unlikely for me to find a suitable solution to this problem in the narrow time frame we've been given."
As he finished speaking they had arrived at their room. Pravus stepped forward, leaning on his shovel as he shifted his weight forward towards the door. In one smooth motion he opened the door and stepped out of the way of the entrance, holding the door open for Myon as a gentleman would for her with his free hand while he supported himself upon his family shovel.
"Ladies first." He politely held the door for Myon, simply waiting for her to step through before he'd close it behind them for what seemed to be the last time for this night.
The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
Her small laughs often ended with a hoot or a squeal, and finally subsided in one large yawn.
The rest of what passed between the other two had been all but lost on Tiotio. It had seemed to her they were talking around something, but she was completely unable to deduce what.
She considered asking the white haired woman exactly what it was about, but as Keres had said, they were all worn, and the healing magics of the room were lulling her to sleep.
βGood night Keres,β she said, nodding to the woman.
She wrapped her tail up in her lap, and closed her eyes, drifting to sleep, still perched on the shelf.
The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
Aizen walked clapped his hands together and then gradually pulled them apart, straining from the action as if they were magnetized to one another as electricity danced between them, with a growl he slammed them together and then pressed his hands to his chest. An uncomfortable jolt dancing through his chest and into his heart as the magic spread through his system, he took a halting step forward, followed by another before he reached a nearby door, he took a deep breath as the hallway behind him was caked in illusion and knocked. A knock that was similar on every door across the hall as a dozen similar Aizens awoke the recruits, ready to lead them across the fake halls and into a similarly fake interview room in pairs or whatever grouping lay within the lodgings. All would be trailed at once and in the same place, they just wouldn't know it.
He sighed once more and after leading each group into the rooms sat down and asked his first question "Why did you stay?". The room was small but well decorated, a coffee table sitting between Aizen and the recruits, a comfortable and plush chair awaiting each person including Aizen himself and various paintings, counters, ornaments and other such things adorning the room, the room was as you would expect from your average well cared for mansion, decadent and perfect to a point. Upon the table was a hearty breakfast tailored to each person and a favored drink to match. To one with training to recognize patterns such as this and the manner Aizen presented himself to each particular pairing, it could be gleaned that he had either amazing analytical skills, or a mind reader at his disposal.
The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden
Her eyes were wide shut. She did not sleep, rather she stared at the darkness that trickled down the backs of eyelids like a blanket of liquid obsidian marred with flashes of fire. The red seared her vision as it often did in the night. When the world ebbed away and the people stilled, her mind and body roared. Left alone to the whims of her existence, she found herself trapped.
The blood that spun beneath her skin that others found so beautiful, she found excruciating. They burned with a fury, as if trying to devour her whole with their acidic touch. She felt like a ghost trapped in its corpse. Keres was unable to move a finger in her body as the ancient Elvish Magicks took over her. Normally she would not bother sleeping, she would live so the pain dulled into an annoying hum. Unfortunately, she'd exerted herself too much lately, entwining countless like a siren's song so that she would be steps ahead of the Nameless recruits. She wanted nothing more than to scream and turn, but she was held as still and serene as if she were the marble manifestation of a Goddess. Cold sweat trickled from her forehead as her eyes jerked beneath her eyelids, the only part of her anatomy that was able to tremble from the torture.
It was an agony no medicine in the air could cure and it was a relief when the knock broke the spell in the morning. She'd read one of the human stories once, Sleeping Beauty, she believed it was called. The cursed princess slept for a hundred years before her true love's kiss awoke her. She wondered if the princess slept through a hundred years of molten lava and nailed floors. There would be no true love's kiss for Keres. She did not need a prince on a horse. She only required the horse. Just the horse. Keres would make her own way.
Keres had the curious thought that Tiotio and her were being led to their executions. She wondered if decapitation would sever her spirit from her body. She hoped so. If she had to die horrendously and hideously, she did not want to spend eternity watching her ruined body lie a few feet away.
"Why did you stay?" the Nameless leader asked the moment they descended to their chairs. An array of exquisite foods lined the table before them. She gave the food near her a melancholy smile, all of which were her favourites, many of which were native to the Elvish realms. It seemed hiding her identity was not an option after all. She kept her mind trained on the first sixteen years of her life in case Aizen had a reader in his employ. She lifted a round lavender fruit that had the rough shape of an apple, her eyelids fluttering shut as she bit through its skin and into its transparent flesh. Laiees. Her favourite fruit from the the temples. They seemed to know that she was vegetarian, as the monks in the temple were.
She brought her ruby eyes to Aizen's, and decided she would speak the truth. There would be no lying to the man. He would know as well as the High King of the Elves if she were dishonest.
"On my 18th," she began, glancing at Tiotio, and deciding, yes, let them know. The recruits suspected her already anyway, her honesty was the only way to win their trust. "I was meant to be placed in eternal slumber. The Magick that protects MithrandΓr and makes it impenetrable runs in the blood of Elvish royals, passed from mother to daughter, Queen to Princess." She glanced down at the food, brushing her fingertips over a golden edible flower that was popular during palace celebrations. "The late Queen Calandra passed away without child and her Magick was lost." She plucked a luminescent petal from the flower and glanced at Aizen. "It wandered through the realms and found a host, a human babe abandoned for her ugliness." She said this monotonously, as if reciting a passage from a textbook, without a bat of an eyelash. "No mortal can hold such power. Hence, these." She lifted her arm and allowed her sleeves to fall away from the tattoos on her body. "They want me alive but passive, trapped in their world in a glass box for eternity. A fate worse than death, I can assure you. They believe an eternity of torture in an unmoving shell is a noble life, I do not believe it is a life at all." FInally, she showed a flicker of emotion, her jaw tight and clenched as she spoke. "I have given them two millenniums of my existence and more." Keres opened her clenched fist, allowing the crumbled petals to flutter from her grasp. She seemed to exhale her tension as a familiar grin spread across her startling features.
"You ask me why I stay. I stay because it is an act of rebellion, because for the first time in my existence, I am choosing myself. But, I am hoping that here, amongst the Nameless, I will find a way to return this Magick to my home," she paused, almost as if she'd uttered the last word accidentally. "So MithrandΓr might survive without me. The Elves are my family, but I will not be a puppet. I will not throw away my life before I have had a chance to live it. I want to be free, but not at the expense of a realm."
The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
The knock on the door surprised him at first, causing his blurry eyes to shift into their sharp stare as normal. To his surprise the man didn't interview them right on the spot, as he had previously assumed. Instead they walked through the hallway to an interview room of sorts. The room was unlike the rest of the mansion he had seen before, as if they suddenly were in a whole other mansion. The room was well decorated, it felt rather warm and cozy, especially when compared to what he had seen of the building. The breakfast on the table didn't seem put together at random, there were some peculiar dishes on the table he had never seen outside of the college cafetaria. This would mean that at least part of this meal was tailored to him, and that in turn meant they had some knowledge about him he wasn't aware of or the ability to dig through his mind. Neither would bother him too much, more an annoyance than a problem, he wasn't particularly fond of others digging through his mind, even when he has nothing to hide.
Ivan sat down in one of the chairs as the man did the same and asked his first question: "Why did you stay?" Straight to the point, not wasting breath by beating around the bush. An attitude Ivan liked, especially when the subject become somewhat political. He glanced to the demon, and then back to the man. "The most prominent reason I stayed is because of an oath I took when I joined my college. 'In life and in death, a mage should never abandon those who need his help.' It is an oath you take knowing it will take your life sooner or later, just like everyone who took the oath before you." He said with calmness and determination radiating from his words.
"However I would lie if I said I didn't have any selfish reasons to stay. Currently in my homeland things are rather depressing. I live next to a city we had to flee from and seal with magic due to hordes of undead murdering everyone inside and threatening the whole land to fall into the hand of the liches. All of our efforts to combat the undead within the seal have only resulted in more dead, and even after three decades we haven't made any progress at all. The place feels hopeless and depressing. Here I feel some form of hope and I feel like I actually can help someone, for the first time in decades." He spoke with a similar calm as he picked up a stem with black union shaped flower buds the size of large grapes along the stem. He tore the flower buds off and ate them while he listened.
"I do apologize but i will not be eating the food. It would get in the way of my morning training."
Upon seeing food that her Master once cooked for her from spices only he knew how to make, she became quite suspicious of just how real the food was. Even if she did not notice this, it would be rather impolite to eat during an interview. She laid her swords down next to her as she sat in Seiza position on the floor. Myon floated right above her. The floor, at least, feels real.
"I'll answer the question! We stayed because, when we took up training with out late Master we swore that no matter where we are, what has happened, who has died or betrayed, or even if we have been killed, that we will use our skills to assist in betterment of those around us. Sure, we have made friends here and would love to stay with them but ultimately... It is not they who are the reason why we stay. The reason we stay is because, whatever caused those monsters to attack, maiming the lucky and killing the unlucky, such things cannot go unpunished! The cause must be eliminated before we are allowed to let ourselves leave"
Speaking simultaneously, they finished their little speech with determination in their voice and a steely look in their eyes. Restating their decision as if etching it into stone.
"We swore to help those who needed it and we shall uphold that vow. We will stay as long as needed until the darkness which affects this place has been dealt with. We failed in the past but we will not do so again. For as long as there are things we must protect behind us.... We will stand firm again, and hundreds of times more! That we swear. Ask what questions you like, but the answer stays the same. We won't leave here until we are no longer needed"
The pair waited for the next question if it was asked.
The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden
It was in this way that Tiotio became aware, even in the clutches of a sound, dreamless sleep, that Keres was in pain.
The monkey opened her eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the darkness of the room. The alabaster woman was still, too still. Sleep brought calm, rhythmic breathing, occasional fits and stirs; Keres was almost rigid, her muscles tense. Only her eyes moved, darting back and forth as if watching some horrific scene unfold inside their lids.
Tiotio jumped down from the shelf, landing soundlessly on the floor next to Keresβ head and shoulders. Huge beads of sweat blossomed on Keresβ forehead. They ran down her face, leaving thick lines and the smell of fear.
Tiotio wished to help the kind, funny woman, but her eyes were drawn to the red markings - magic, far beyond her understand. This was not a sleep of nightmares, or of a battle worn soldier whose mind and body could not find rest, even in sleep. This was a magic sleep, a thing Tiotio could understand only in theory. To wake Keres now might do more harm than good.
Instead she stood over the woman, leaning on her staff, dozing occasionally. When the knock came in the morning Tiotio sprang instantly back from the bed, so as not to startle Keres with her nearness.
The room they were lead to was so different in kind from the one they had spent the night in, that Tiotio spent an over long time pondering the cause. Could it be this was the leaderβs personal quarters, kept pristine while the rest of the mansion fell to ruin? That seemed unlikely given the behavior of the Nameless thus far.
The food on the table drew her attention. Much of it was foreign to her, looking rather more elegant than tasty. But there were simple dried fruits, and three platters full of thick, squirming insects. She scooped up a few small handfuls of the fruit and placed them directly into her bag. Her nomadic life had left her always mindful of the need to keep a good supply of preserved food on hand.
She popped a beatle in her mouth, enjoying the crunch, followed by the warm spread of its meat throughout her mouth. As she chewed she realized that, like most of the creatures she encountered outside the jungle, those gathered here might not enjoy such food. It might be this was placed out specifically for her sake.
Before she could follow the thought further, she noticed the man and Keres looking at her. She realized she was expected to sit in one of the waiting chairs.
She climbed first into the seat, but found it hard to relax in its soft folds. Just after the man spoke, βWhy did you stay?β she climbed up the chairβs back, and crouched on her toes. She rested one end of her bow in the seat of the chair, and leaned the other against her knees.
Keres story held her attention so fully, that when it was over, sheβd forgotten for a moment that the question had also been asked of her. As a widening silence hung over the room, Tiotio recalled what little she knew about elves - that they wouldnβt stay in any inn with a dirty floor (which were, in her opinion, always the best ones) and hated it immensely when you told them they looked like cats without any fur (which they did).
Tiotio added to this the information that elves seemed to be enslaved by their own magics, and were comfortable inflicting great pain to maintain their power. She wondered if this might not explain Keresβ painful sleep.
When no one spoke, she replayed the short conversation over in her mind, trying to find the moment it had gone astray, and realized that it was she that needed to answer now.
βI was on my way here to begin with,β she addressed the man, βI was at a competition, something called a boxing match. I won third place. Everyone there was talking about The Games and The Nameless. Oh werenβt The Games better before the fall of The Nameless. Havenβt you heard, The Nameless are rising again. Things like that. I didnβt know what they were talking about.β
She looked to Keres, then back to the man, βSo I asked where these Nameless were, and started out. But then that letter fell from the sky and saved me quite a bit of walking.β
The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
This room did not look par for the course given the treatment the rest of the mansion had endured throughout these years. It seemed to him that many of these fanciful decorations he cared little for appeared to be pretty expensive, something which did not synchronize with this place. It appears Aera, Myon and myself will all be interviewed together He realized as they were all lead into the same room with little indicating they would be separated for the interview.
On half of the table eastern styled dishes seasoned with unknown spices were set out, likely for Aera and Myon as it befitted their esthetic. On the half of the table in front of where Pravus stood was nothing. He had no need to eat nor even the ability to taste.
It was a setup which clearly had a lot of thought put into it. Between the way each dish or lack thereof was tailored to the fact that they just so happened to be arranged where they would be standing even though it was not even previously acknowledged it all seemed too perfectly arranged. Pravus had seen back in his days serving in the military the tents and personal quarters of his legion's mages. It was not unusual for them to use enchantments and illusions to better tailor their chambers to their particular liking. The more he saw the more he suspected that may be the case with this room.
"Why did you stay?"
Myon and Aera gave their reason as to why they fought alongside the nameless at the battle they fought. Their speech definitely showed much of their character to him. Both of them upheld a noble yet slightly unrealistic cause which was admirable to some extent. His only concern was that they pledged themselves to protect people who they hardly knew. He had yet to learn of who he was even trying to join, let alone whether they deserve their aid or not.
To Pravus however it mattered not that these people be either innocents in need of a savior, villains receiving retribution or anything in between. He was a soldier for the Tiathan army, trained to obey and kill without question. Good and evil, light and darkness, right and wrong had nothing to do with this. His word was his bond and once given he would carry out his orders to the letter of their agreement. While he had given his word to serve and obey the military with honest and good intentions the first time he would not make that same mistake again.
He stood firm and tall, his main hand holding his shovel upright and planted to the floor, the other firmly by his side just like he would stand amongst the ranks of his men at attention back in the legion, a spear in place of the shovel. Despite his injuries he maintained proper posture, at least for the moment. He spoke loud and clear, his words solid and well organized like stone bricks. after the other two were finished their little speech he gave his reasons.
Why did he stay? "There is nothing to leave to."
He checked himself over, noting the frayed nature of his once fine suit, and the feeling of fatigue in his body. The room's magic definitely rested him, but it could not shore up the stock of metal in his body, it made him feel almost anemic.
At least I don't need to worry about smell. He thought with a grin, his scent never changed from fire ash, and smoke. Though, he had drowned those in the scent of blood a number of times. The unbidden thoughts made him frown unhappily, as he stretched out his joints. Each popping with a satisfying metallic twang!
"Where'd you come from?' He muttered, voice somewhere between awe and disbelief. As he gently picked up the beautiful, no exquisite. Almost bewitching, crystal bracelet. Set with gems of red, purple and blue. It practically glowed in the pale light of his room. Like its owner, he thought. Remembering the encounter with the woman from the night before. Her name still a mystery to him. He mentally reminded himself to ask her it when he returned her bracelet to her, and promptly slid it into his jacket pocket, and finished making his bed as a knock sounded at his door.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Something's not quite right, he thought as he followed the old man down the halls, an odd buzzing in his head making his vision swim, it wasn't something he'd felt before, and he didn't know why but it felt like there was more and less around him than there should be, like he was in a crowd, but he was alone with the leader.
He followed him into an oddly extravagant room that was at odds with the disrepair of the rest of the manor. Many works of arts on the walls, and shiny trinkets on the shelves. Some with history some without. Typical, he thought. That the leadership would have, and everyone else should have not.
He was pleased to see the woman from the night before there as he took his seat at the table, a place somehow set for him perfectly, taking into account his love for food, and need for metals. He loaded up a plate with a little of everything on the table, listening to everything with half an ear, as he poured the entire bowl of dense metal shavings over his selection of food. Opting to wait and eat it after he'd spoken, idly he chewed on a wafer thin bar of iron as he listened to tales of tragedy in one case, and convenience in another. Feeling some of his lightheaded feeling fade as the metal worked into his body.
He was glad he wouldn't need to seek her out to return her bracelet. Again looking at her made his head buzz, and he wanted little more than to stand up and ravage her on that very table, but he tamped down on those thoughts viciously, a slight tempo of hammer to anvil starting in his head, the thoughts were so unlike him, she was beautiful beyond measure, true, but he was not an animal. regardless of how he fought, and he would control himself, or he would destroy himself.
He tried to take his mind off it by turning his eyes, to the other being in the room, yesterday had thankfully dissensitized him to seeing new races, or he might have freaked out at the sight of an ape woman, he vaguely remembered seeing her in the battle, and after last night, before he'd passed out. He felt as if he'd missed something, he wouldn't be surprised if he had. He was still feeling lightheaded.
He saw the others in the room turn to him, as if he'd always been there, waiting for his answer, but he had thought he'd gotten there after them. This place was doing funny things to his head.
"Why did I stay?' He wondered out loud, everyone surely had a reason. What was his? He thought, letting a hand play through his hair as he sipped at the vodka that had come with his breakfast, odd that, but he wasn't complaining.
You've got nowhere else to go his mind whispered back to him. No one left to go back to, you need to fight but the world you come from frowns upon violence, even though something inside you calls for blood and battle. The more you get, the more you want. He replayed his life up until this point, seeing the lethargy he'd felt in his own world the lack of purpose, and an answer formed.
βI want to feel alive.' He said, his voice resonating through the room, unknowingly to him power seeped into him as the thoughts of what he could do in this place came to him, causing smoke to spill around his cigarette, and his eyes to pulse in time with his heartbeat. Voices rose unbidden in his mind, as the hammer struck the anvil he spoke again.
βI wanted to help the people here, protect them, but more than anything I want to chase that feeling, and find it again.' Until I find out just who I am, or die trying. Sometimes blades don't survive the tempering.
The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden
βI was on my way here to begin with,β Tiotio began. βI was at a competition, something called a boxing match. I won third place." Keres smiled at the image of the monkey warring against a six foot monstrosity. Somehow, it did not seem too bizarre, imagining the latter being pummelled by Tiotio. "Everyone there was talking about The Games and The Nameless. Oh werenβt The Games better before the fall of The Nameless. Havenβt you heard, The Nameless are rising again. Things like that. I didnβt know what they were talking about.β Tiotio's eyes met Keres' before darting away just as quickly. βSo I asked where these Nameless were, and started out. But then that letter fell from the sky and saved me quite a bit of walking.β Keres grinned. So far, Tiotio certainly won the award for most unusual and humorous person Keres had ever met.
She noticed then the familiar, heated presence of "Brimstone." She shifted her attention to him and felt like she was staring into the depths of a fiery tunnel, or Hell. Despite herself, she found the edges of curiosity probing the space between them. Keres wondered indeed what he was doing here. The Nameless seemed rather... Tame for the "metallic, fear-inducing dragon" - one of the more subdued descriptions Keres had eased from the people she'd "interviewed."
"Why did I stay?" he muttered, his voice rumbling from his chest. He had an unusual resonance, a mixture of low huskiness - from smoke, drink and cries, she imagined - and fearsome roar. He seemed to retreat to some realm within his mind before saying, βI want to feel alive." It was so simple, yet she did not think she would ever forget the shadow that crossed his amber gaze and the drift of smoke that wafted from his slightly parted lips. She found her fingers itching for a brush to capture the moment. Art, perhaps, was one of the few things she enjoyed in the Elves' teachings. A wry smile crossed her lips, they had vastly different, yet largely similar reasons for joining, she supposed. He wanted to feel alive, she wanted to live. Keres had more than enough life, millenniums upon millenniums of it, but she had not lived. She had not done anything worthy of looking herself with pride in the mirror. Others saw beauty beyond imagination, she saw a figurine: lovely, decorative, pleasant, useless.
βI wanted to help the people here, protect them, but more than anything I want to chase that feeling, and find it again.' She smiled. What a noble reason. She was not noble, and before the questions began to creep into her thoughts - did she want to be noble? Did she desire a different life? To be different? - her attention was directed elsewhere.
Her hand suddenly jerked to grasp her wrist as her eyes widened on the incandescent object Wayland held. Crimson orbs widened as she looked down a her bare wrist. Her hands darted to her head, feeling for the diadem or crown and finding only silken strands. She gasped something in Elvish before standing up so quickly, her chair scraped loudly and threatened to topple over. Keres, clearly, did not move like a simple human, or even one who'd been raised by Elves. She had the reflexes of something... Other. Keres took a step but froze as if she were water that had been abruptly turned to ice. She dropped the arm that had been outstretched toward Wayland and instead, brushed her hand over her dress. She lowered herself onto the seat and fixed her face into one more demure, a light blush colouring her cheeks as if she were embarrassed. Keres kept her mind still, focusing on the threads of Wayland's shirt and the curl of smoke. The bracelet had a remarkable resemblance to the crown of High King Elrond of MithrandΓr, and the diadem of the late Elvish Queen. She gave Wayland a shy smile, glancing at him through the curl of her thick lashes.
"I apologise," she whispered. "I do not know what overcame me." A small, self-depricating laugh escaped her lips. "Where did you find it?" she asked carefully.
He, like Keres, seemed to have a rather more personal reason for --
Wait. When did he join them in the room?
The monkey stiffened a little, focuses her eyes on him fully, and tried to remember. He had not been in their room that night? Had he? Had he been in the hall? Already waiting in the room?
Her mind, the part that observed the world with a disconnected gaze, slipped into meditative memory, comparing what it recalled to the details of the now. She searched for the sequence of moments - the one first where the room lacked his presence, then the man-furnace walking across the threshold, then when he was fully in the room.
There was something wrong with her perception, something hazy at the edges, not unlike the healing magics in their room last night. Tiotio was all too aware of the limitations of the senses, of the fallibility of eyes, nose, ears - all made of flesh. But this was not a failing of the body, but a distortion of the truth.
Once, she had spent several weeks in a mountain cave with a former something-or-other from an important college of... somewhere (formal titles always confused Tiotio). That learned woman had sustained herself mostly on melted snow and a mushroom that grew at the back of her cave.
She had told Tiotio of the illusion of continuity. Cause and effect were only in the mind, created by the false belief that one event follows another. All moments happened in their exact time, due to the shape of the universe, rather than some pearl-chain of events.
The theory had seemed perfectly sound to Tiotio when she shared the womanβs diet, and had become a foundation of Tiotioβs life philosophy thereafter. Yet it too was lacking to explain how this moment had formed, how this man was in the room with them now, but also, in some real way, not.
The character of the room changed to her then, and its falsehood was revealed. She knew not enough to see its true shape, but only that she was being deceived.
The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
Yet it sat on a plate before River, he would not identify it to others nor would he even begin to explain to himself why they thought such a dish appropriate. He simply, ate. The leader asked him a question as he reclined in the chair, feeling the buzz of energy as the soul swam through his own, entwining with the many others that weighed upon his heart and spun around his body. The soul was not false, it was real, no false soul could give such a buzz, revitalize and engorge as this did. Most of his wounds had healed from the room, but what remained was immediately sealed shut and he was given a further boost in vitality, the boost was temporary but the buzz was like a drug to an Incubus. He resisted purring in pleasure as he replayed the last few moments in his mind, in his ecstasy he had missed the question.
"Why did you stay?" The leader had asked, the incubus leaned forward in his chair and gave a wide smile, turning on the charm as he placed his elbows on his knees and templed his fingers carefully. "It's simple...before your beam of light hit me, I was dead. A blade in my gut and a final curtain fallen over my body as a bled out on the sands of my world. I've been running for the past god knows how long from the criminal organization that controls my torn planet. What little remained of it after the incident that is." He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and looking Aizen in the eye.
"Hunters followed my every move, and I was running through wastelands filled with deadly creatures, renegades and constant storms...I killed people, a lot of innocent people. I needed them to stay alive..if you spilled out my soul, you'd find dozens more entwined in it's ethereal path, I'm an Incubus so to survive I feed on other peoples very spirits. I didn't just kill people, I cut off their afterlife...you ask why I stayed? I stayed because if there's any chance that their souls can be saved, any chance that I can keep going and not waste lives, I'll take it. I stayed because I refused to let someone I knew die again, because you have children here....children who remind me of those that were ruined by my hand." He said softly, eventually finishing with his eyes to the floor. All of it was true, but the full reality was more hidden than that, more disturbing still.
Aizen's eyes scanned each recruit, listened to their stories all with a stoic face and tense body. It was time to test their mettle, he was going to exert more pressure upon them. He would catalog and address each of their stories later, it would decide their ranking, their positions, what games they participated in. Background and choice, reason and thought, these things were more important than strength or skill in a guild game. However, the interview wasn't about answers or truths, it wasn't about reality or the games. It was about deciding who he could trust with his guild, whom could survive under pressure and uncontrollable situations, which ones would be able to handle a sudden change with more than just instinct...which ones were truly strong.
He stood up after each had spoken respectively, after each had reacted and crossed his arms behind his back. He evened his eyes at each member respectively and clicked his tongue, a word from one of them had clicked in his mind and he found himself focused upon it. The girl Aera and her spirit Myon spoke of the darkness in this place, he would smile at the notion had he no intent to break their spirit. However this was not the case, and so he simply took the word and warped it for his own speech.
"The darkness will claim this place, and the rest of the Garden. We barely make it by as it is and soon the demon lords will stop bickering and mass together. It's a matter of time before the Garden is overwhelmed and used as stepping stone for the rest of existence...what we need are capable fighters, those strong of mind and body, those with good morals. We need to be able to rise from the bottom, gain allies and defeat corrupted guilds until the Garden can stand on her own two feet and push back the demon lords." He states, taking a step towards the recruits, phasing into the middle of the table separating them "I know all about you, everything you know, I know. Keep this in mind for the rest of the interview and pay attention....this is the only advice I will give you aside from to remember, this is not a fight, you are not simply weapons." He says softly, stepping back to his chair and taking a seat once more, his eyes flitting to meet Keres' for a moment.
"Live." He says once, the room folding away to reveal a large abyss. Aizen sits in his chair a great distance away, and the recruits are now standing upon a stone platform. Around them is utter darkness and nothingness, beyond the large stone platform and Aizen's far off platform there is nothing. From the shadows below several figures emerge, clambering up to the platform and standing around each pair. The interview would indeed discover their intentions and whether they were worthy.
Could they think for themselves, would they ask questions, would they simply give up? If none of them could figure out the mental component of such a basic challenge then he would be quite dissapointed. However there was no better way to expose a cannon than to put a foe between them and supposed victory.
Each shadow was configured to act, react and even speak according to the pairs, not only that but he'd been tinkering with their minds during their speeches, just a tad, a seed for emotion planted and the feeling of illusion slowly removed, until his guild deemed otherwise, everything would be very very real. The process was expensive beyond measure and had a long with the recruitment game set back The Nameless to almost bankruptcy, they had been lucky to have one of the three psychics capable of such a feat amongst their number.
Each shadow was a prominent figure or figures in the persons life, a group of people that could be used to drive them to the edge of tears, or perhaps the edge of sanity. All designed to be negative, hateful, disapproving and eventually, violent. He smiled from his chair and spoke softly, his voice passing as a whisper into each recruits ear "Are you willing to forsake what you care about, for the life of another?" He spoke cryptically.
"M-Master....."
She knew it was an illusion, she knew it wasn't true but she also wished it weren't an illusion. She lowered her sword and eventually returned it to its sheathe. Resisting the urge to cry, she looked at the figure standing before her with a mix of fear and hate in her lifeless eyes. Myon began to argue with Aera in their head.
[ "It's Master! W-Why do you want to attack him!? H-He can't be a fake! There can't be more than one of him!"
"I..I too want to believe it is him but I cannot. This has to be an illusion... j-just like the room!" ]
As the argument got heated, Aera drew the sword that her Master gave to her once more. If she wasn't the half phantom freak she was, her emotions would have gotten the better of her like her other half. She advanced toward the figure...but with her eyes closed. She would not open her eyes and therefore could not see her Master. She began to slowly advance forwards.
"Master Youki, do you have any idea what it was like when you left us? All alone in that forest? To fend for ourselves against the harsh elements and against nature itself? Do you have any idea...the pain and suffering you have caused us!? Why... Why did you leave us? Why couldn't you have just stayed?"
She swung her sword at the figure. She missed but she noticed something... She couldn't hear the clatter of her Master's geta when he dodged her attack. She smiled and continued her slow advance.
"You taught us everything we know. You raised us as your own. You cared for us when nobody else did... You gave us the one thing that was ripped from our grasp as a child. You were the only family we had left and you just...just abandoned us? You said to never run away and never back down. Yet, you ran from us... Did it finally get you? Did the fact you were raising a freak finally break your will? We trusted you and you betrayed that trust... And you try to stand in our way? Then you leave me with no other choice other than to cut you down! You are nothing more than a fake! EVERYTHING YOU TAUGHT US WAS A LIE!"
Despite sounding angry, Aera was quite calm. Her anger was true but she wouldn't let it overtake her. She opened her eyes and swung the sword once more at her Master. This time however...her sword passed cleanly through his neck...
"Forgive me....Master..."
"I know all about you, everything you know, I know. Keep this in mind for the rest of the interview and pay attention....this is the only advice I will give you aside from to remember, this is not a fight, you are not simply weapons."
Pravus waited, taking the man's warnings to mind as he awaited what this man had planned for them.
"Live."
At that moment magic took it's course, shifting the world around them. The floor became a large stone dais suspended over a seemingly infinite void which separated them from the rest of the world they were previously in and their interviewer who looked on past his desk with no discernible change in facial expression. A pair of dark hands grasped the ledge of their current platform, pulling the rest of itself from the black abyss. Up upon their disc a darkened shadow of his father climbed aboard, standing up in a bit of a swaying shamble.
The man looked quite similar to Pravus. Both of them were wearing the same hat and cloak, tools could be heard rattling from underneath the concealment of his father's cloak. His father's facial structure appeared stronger than his although Pravus's features were currently obscured by his unique mask, making a facial comparison between the two of them impossible for any onlookers. His father did possess a rather long yet straight and thin black beard, making him appear wiser. The man appeared to Pravus as he remembered him the very last time he saw him before he left home to join the military.
There was a sense of realism to this encounter but there was one factor which he didn't even know was playing into this scenario. His speech was short which gave his secret manipulators little time to work with. Even though the scenario definitely seemed real he still remembered that this was probably the efforts and product of magic, illusionary or otherwise. He looked from the leader sitting so close yet so far away in his seat to the very spitting image of his father wrought from the shadows pulled up from below.
"What shame have you brought upon our family name this time?" Were the first words to come from his illusionary father's mouth. Pravus saw what this leader was trying to do to him, to push him using his own memories against him and see if he breaks or not. Still, even with that knowledge in mind it's words still stung deep inside his still heart. He could feel no pain but what this feeling was for him was the closest thing he could come to that.
Still, pain was temporary and he had endured plenty of physical pain in life. As for emotional pain he had known and carried on through suffering which held no comparison. Driven by guilt spurred by his father's death to carry on the family name only to watch as each one of his family, his friends and anyone else he knew all succumbed to the black spirit's touch until only he remained for just long enough to watch the entire world end with him. Even after all that and being resurrected with the memories of it all still intact he carries on. He knew this phantom was not his father. He did not know how they conjured forth such a construct to take on such a familiar form but he still suspected deception even with the tampering of his mind from other entities involved.
"You wish to test me again?" He spoke, still looking towards the facsimile of his father but clearly addressing the leader of the Nameless. "You will listen here son." His father attempted to draw his focus back onto the hateful duplicate designed to degrade his willpower. Instead of listening to it's demands he turned his back to it, now facing their host.
"Are you willing to forsake what you care about, for the life of another?"
He heard the whisper in his ear, the source from no discernible location even though the speaker was clear. His eye's gaze pierced through the black holes of his mask, staring directly at the leader now. He could still hear his father behind him but he made a conscious effort to ignore it while he spoke to his intended audience.
"Must we forsake what defines us to defend another person's moralities instead of the ones we all have struggled so hard to forge?" He responded to his question with a question of his own. The leader wanted to see them all act as more than just weapons so unlike a sword or a cannon he questioned the hand which controlled him. A weapon does not ask why it needs to kill who it kills, a person does. Unlike the path Aera had chosen, he would see beyond the puzzle set before him. To question reality rather than simply accept it as what it is.
"I honor my word, I fight for my comrades as well as those who I owe my word to. Magic and other means may be able to twist my mind and cloud my judgement but I still remain the culmination of every experience, every trial, every hardship and every memory I still hold. Even still, I shall succeed if I need to. If that means proving my fortitude mentally as well then so be it but I will ask you this: I have buried my past once, I ask you to not force me to do so once again." He asked of the man nestled at his desk, his voice still polite and calm despite that calm being challenged by the words of his father, the salt in his wounds.
As he was done speaking the phantom of his father stepped up behind Pravus, standing directly behind him with almost no space separating them. He brought his lips up near his ear, whispering directly into it.
"Go ahead. Go become another lackey for some warmongering warlord and abandon your family to sicken and die.
You make me sick."
Still, Pravus stood tall and firm before the Nameless's leader and weathered the burning pain of his guilt eat away at him from within, waiting for a response while his father's phantom wounded him deeper and deeper.
View All »Arcs
Arcs are bundles of posts that you can organize on your own. They're useful for telling a story that might span long periods of time or space.
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Game Master Controls
Welcome home, Promethean. Here, you can manage your universe.
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Arcs are bundles of posts from any location, allowing you to easily capture sub-plots which might be spread out across multiple locations.
Add Quest » Quests
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Add Setting » 6 Settings for your players to play in
Settings are the backdrop for the characters in your universe, giving meaning and context to their existence. By creating a number of well-written locations, you can organize your universe into areas and regions.
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Collectibles
By creating Collectibles, you can reward your players with unique items that accentuate their character sheets.
Once an Item has been created, it can be spawned in the IC using /spawn Item Name
(case-sensitive, as usual) — this can be followed with /take Item Name
to retrieve the item into the current character's inventory.
Mobs
Give your Universe life by adding a Mob, which are auto-replenishing NPCs your players can interact with. Useful for some quick hack-and-slash fun!
Mobs can be automated spawns, like rats and bats, or full-on NPCs complete with conversation menus. Use them to enhance your player experience!
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Locations where Mobs and Items might appear.
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Orphanage
By marking a character as abandoned, you can offer them to your players as pre-made character sheets.
The Forge
Use your INK to craft new artifacts in The Garden: An Arcadian Boneyard. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.
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Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.
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View All » Add Character » 20 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Mathew Miles
"Not going to live for nobody else, not going to die for anybody else either"
'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'
The manic, battle-hungry, extra-gluttunous, senient pile of Plasmophlemge
Spindel Peridot
"when you spend a couple thousand years in hibernation, you tend to forget some things."
Irina Neventelde
"I'm not just gonna listen to you, y'know. Idiot. Don't even try it!"
Keres Leventis
"Some people think I'm narcissistic, but I like to think I'm just self-aware."
Pravus the Grave Tender
"I shall bury them all. When you die, I shall bury you too."
Seriene Arvor
A devout novice battle priest of the Naaru and a once firm defender of Karabor.
Tiotio
"Do not seek for the truth, only stop having an opinion."
Dan Breeze
"Wanna scuffle! I'll scuffle! I'll scuffle right proper!"
Trending
Seriene Arvor
A devout novice battle priest of the Naaru and a once firm defender of Karabor.
Dan Breeze
"Wanna scuffle! I'll scuffle! I'll scuffle right proper!"
Tiotio
"Do not seek for the truth, only stop having an opinion."
River Saetyrix
An extremely laid back Incubus with the wit of a sarcastic feline.
Spindel Peridot
"when you spend a couple thousand years in hibernation, you tend to forget some things."
NPC Sheet
Tags general NPC's, holds information on important figures (When I get around to it)
Wayland "Brimstone" Smith
"Hammer and anvil! Can you hear their beat? Can you hear the screaming? Can you hear the keening of the blades?"
Mathew Miles
"Not going to live for nobody else, not going to die for anybody else either"
Pravus the Grave Tender
"I shall bury them all. When you die, I shall bury you too."
Most Followed
Keres Leventis
"Some people think I'm narcissistic, but I like to think I'm just self-aware."
Spindel Peridot
"when you spend a couple thousand years in hibernation, you tend to forget some things."
'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'
The manic, battle-hungry, extra-gluttunous, senient pile of Plasmophlemge
Pravus the Grave Tender
"I shall bury them all. When you die, I shall bury you too."
Dan Breeze
"Wanna scuffle! I'll scuffle! I'll scuffle right proper!"
NPC Sheet
Tags general NPC's, holds information on important figures (When I get around to it)
Mathew Miles
"Not going to live for nobody else, not going to die for anybody else either"
Seriene Arvor
A devout novice battle priest of the Naaru and a once firm defender of Karabor.
River Saetyrix
An extremely laid back Incubus with the wit of a sarcastic feline.
Tiotio
"Do not seek for the truth, only stop having an opinion."
View All » Places
144 posts · 9 characters present · last post 2014-05-10 20:54:07 »
Vast plains of grass and large fields were the norm at one point here near Kerris, but after a game with a Demon Lord the Phyrexian Grasslands are withered and barren waste-lands devoid of all but a tiny almost village area home to The Nameless.
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The Southern Corner of the Garden, A city sunk into the glaciers of ancient ethereal ice. Kind-hearted and hardy are the people here, and ironically its trade of food and all things heat-related is well known in The Garden.
0 posts · 1 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The Garden ↪ Terralis Owner: duramon
The Eastern Corner of The Garden, vast cities spread across the tops of ancient and nearly indestructible mushrooms grown from the earth. All things natural, pure magic and genetic tampering are the norm here, seen vastly as the symbol for peace.
0 posts · 1 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The Norther Corner of The Garden, a floating city reliant on its vast hub of guilds and sky trade routes.
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The Western Corner of the Garden, home to the hardiest monsters and roughest terrain. Will and Law is an Iron fist and its residence and guilds hold true to this standard, Kreigland is known for its seclusion from the other corners and cities.
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I'm confused....
by Ritnio on Wed Dec 18, 2013 7:44 pm
- 4 Replies
- 481 Views
- Last post by chaotix14
on Fri Dec 20, 2013 5:17 am
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I'm confused....
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Look, guys seriously.
by Questionable Object on Sun Dec 08, 2013 3:57 pm
- 4 Replies
- 433 Views
- Last post by Zalgo
on Tue Dec 10, 2013 9:05 pm
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Look, guys seriously.
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One day I'll be a god, but not today.
by duramon on Sun Dec 08, 2013 2:08 am
- 3 Replies
- 408 Views
- Last post by Ritnio
on Tue Dec 10, 2013 8:25 pm
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One day I'll be a god, but not today.
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I'm not the GM but can I talk about tagging?
by Questionable Object on Sun Dec 08, 2013 12:17 am
- 0 Replies
- 425 Views
- Last post by Questionable Object
on Sun Dec 08, 2013 12:17 am
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I'm not the GM but can I talk about tagging?
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