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The Rise of the Tari

Ammisar

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a part of The Rise of the Tari, by Nevan.

The world of Ammisar, a fantasy planet whose most intelligent race has only just entered the bronze age.

Nevan holds sovereignty over Ammisar, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

407 readers have been here.

Setting

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Ammisar

The world of Ammisar, a fantasy planet whose most intelligent race has only just entered the bronze age.

Minimap

Ammisar is a part of The Rise of the Tari.

1 Places in Ammisar:

3 Characters Here

Tikara [2] A fierce Tarian Huntress
Bal'roch [2] A Tarian ex-guard, now a huntsman with a mind to tinker.
Audriena Lyn [0] The younger sister to Tenszar, second oldest of the King.

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Setting

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Character Portrait: Tikara
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Tikara walked to a local trader, a somewhat large bag of skins and furs slung over her shoulder. She had just come back from a hunt.

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Character Portrait: Tikara
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She never was one for ceremony, so she left the bag of furs and skins on the floor of the traders tent, and walked out to the main streets. A funeral, again, not her place to be. She respected the king, yes, but that didn't mean she would go to his funeral. She walked back to the place where she called home, and sat down on a rug made out of the hide of an earth-like deer.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Tenszar Character Portrait: Imes
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Imes stood in the very back of the crowd, her black hair was hanging in front of her face. She may have been the last person you would expect to see at an event like this, though not because of lack of love for her king, but because of the fact of just how many people were here. The eighteen year old had a habit of avoiding crowds, but today.

Today was different. Her King was dead, and she had to show her respect. So she bared with the crowd, the jostling, and stares. Imes just kept her red orange eyes down and patted the head of her Raven. And then it was over just as quickly, but even as the crowd jostled around her she stayed put, she didn't approach the prince that was left standing there, she just watched as the fire burned and rain beat down on her and Poe.

After a moment, the woman looked up at the sky, the rain beating down on her face as she herself mourned, the around her eyes running down her face. If she was crying or not was unsure, but she stayed like that for a while, it the last star was twinkling in the dark sky. Nish had given the sad day a beautiful night.

That was her sign to go, to pray to the god of the night. The black haired woman quickly started to walk away, passing by the prince. Her raven, Poe, trilled as they passed by, looking at his face she herself didn't say a word as her black robes dragged along the ground. There was something strange about her and her bird, they both had the same colored eyes...

Setting

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Character Portrait: Bal'roch
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#, as written by Lobos
As the smoke rose into the sky, a pair of stormy eyes watched in silence. Sitting cross-legged in the center of his camp, Bal'roch closed his eyes for a time in his own silent prayer to the now gone king, before turning back to his butchering. There was still much to be done before he could return, and though he'd never really seen in the man anything to inspire allegiance, today was a day to honor his memory by living, not grieving.

Pausing occasionally to wash the blood and gore from his long hands, he skinned the brace of rabbits he'd collected, setting the hides aside before slicing the meager meat into strips he settled on a slab of stone. This he placed on a pair of braced sticks to either side of his fire, sprinkling the crushed white mineral of which he'd acquired a taste for over the meat. Ignoring the slow sound of sizzling, the hunter turned back to his skins.

As he had thought, much to do yet, surveying the tasks left to him. A grunt escaped Bal'roch, the only indication of frustration the man usually gave.

As if on their own accord, his gaze wandered over to his hunting tools and weapons. Particularly, the short spears he had named "strikes". The slight shafts were only about as long as his arm and half again, but with the speed he could throw them he had gathered a normal day's hunt in a mere morning. A fierce sense of pride welled in his chest, tempered by the regret of lost company. To many of the Tari considered his ideas outlandish to guarantee hunting partners more often then not, but then...

Bal'roch had always been so. And would always be so. The sting had faded over time.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tenszar Character Portrait: Imes Character Portrait: Myr
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#, as written by Nevan
Where was Audrie? Why hadn't she shown herself to him, or come up to the front to at least let her brother know she was there? Let her people? Had she even been there at all, or was she just skulking in the shadows like the whore she was? Tenszar allowed himself a sigh and ran his hand over his face to flick away the rain. His mother was a different story; she grew weaker every day, practically bedridden and barely leaving her room except for the rare desire for the sun and fresh air. At least she had an excuse to not be there for her own husband's funeral...

He had so much to do, he could spend no more time on grieving. He flicked his head up, then removed the cloth from his hair to squeeze it of some of the water as the rain continued to steadily fall. After this, he wound it back around his hair and turned to look at the few members of the crowd still there; no doubt the most loyal among them. Not even all of his Father's senators had showed up... Bah, he couldn't get suspicious over that. Perhaps they grieved in their own way?

Some of the more influential and daring citizens approached him directly, offering their condolences and shaking his hand, or bowing. He thanked them, but he didn't say much else. It was right after one of these shakes that Imes made her way around him, with her Raven calling, though he could not translate its emotion or purpose. He wondered for a moment if the bird knew what had happened, if he was intelligent enough to understand how devastating the recent events had been, and if he felt bad about them at all...

Her eyes... They were strangely coloured... The same as the bird she had with her. Who was she? An ill omen? Her presence sent a shiver up his spine and he stepped back away from her, though his head turned to follow her walk.

By this point, the square was essentially empty and the flames almost dead...

"Who are you?" He asked aloud; his voice unintentionally high in volume. As a prince, he had been used to speaking so all his subjects could hear him... "Are you here with ill intent?"

A beggar girl, Myr, tried to run off into the night. She was one of the only people present, so he held his arm out to stop her. If something was to happen, he could at least order her to run for help...

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#, as written by Nevan
"You speak of your bird as though the two of you share the same language," Tenszar said warily while taking a step back. Was this woman some sort of Witch? A worshipper of false Gods? She could be dangerous to him, his people and his city, yet even for all the nation's superstition he couldn't simply take action without righteous cause... Perhaps she was simply ill in the head...

After careful consideration, including weighing as many of his options as he could think of, he cleared his throat and stepped back, saying, "very well, you may go. I apologize for any inconvenience caused, I just find it even harder to trust my own people as of late. My father's murderer still hasn't been found, but I will not yet resort to random arrests."

A couple of men from the Guard Corps, dressed in leather and wielding bronze-tipped spears, began to walk over upon seeing their new King in some sort of confrontation. However, Tenszar noticed them and with a wave of his hand, gestured them to leave. They bowed in understanding, then turned and continued their evening patrols.

Then, he turned to address Myr, with a slight (and uncomfortable) smile. "Sorry about that, my lady. I wasn't halting you out of ill intent, I was merely hoping to have someone nearby who could run for help should things have taken an ugly turn. And thank you for your show of empathy, my Father was a great man and I know in my heart I will never live up to him."

He rubbed his chin, then found himself turning upwards to the sky and gazing at the evening's first stars and their mother moon. A moment or two later, he turned back to Myr; "well, it seems things will not be turning ugly. I'm sorry to have kept you, feel free to go now."

With a slight wave, he turned towards the centre of the city and began a slow walk towards the palace, to retire for the evening. He stopped only to gaze a while longer on his father's pyre, before continuing on his way.

Setting

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Horus Character Portrait: Myr Character Portrait: Fi'irios
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Horus had been daydreaming as we walked along the crowded streets, so he didn't see the other man headed straight in his direction. Horus let out a groan as the two collided and fell to the ground. Horus coughed as he slowly stood up out of the dirt.

The other man issued an apology as he stood himself up. At first glance he seemed an ordinary citizen. "That's quite alright," Horus said brushing the dirt off his robes and body, "No harm done." Before he could gather his thoughts, another newcomer joined the commotion, asking if the two needed medical attention. Horus blinked twice and checked himself over. There was a gash on his arm, but nothing too serious.

"Thank you," He said to the girl without looking up from his wound, "It's just a nick, really." He held his hand tightly over the cut.

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#, as written by Nevan
"There's no need for the formalities, Horus. My father thought of you as a loyal friend; so shall I." With a smile, he intended to lead the Senator through the crowd of people and towards the Senate building as suggested, but a voice he recognized caught his eye...

He turned to face the beggar girl from last night's funeral; the one who had suddenly blurted out a small speech that had been somewhat out of place, but that he had to admit had lifted his spirits a little. "Good morning," he greeted her with a friendly smile. This greeting, along with the way he decided to ignore and let go of her presumptuous outburst, showed he had at least a little respect for her.

"I took your words, yes, but not even a broker can evaluate their worth just yet. I have some business to take care of, so I must bid you farewell."

A crowd was beginning to gather; so many dozens of people that he couldn't quite keep track of who was coming and who was going. There were many unfamiliar faces in the crowd, each trying to offer him condolences, or ask for aid, or simply praise him. He had to tear himself away, however, and return to the matter at hand.

"Shall we go to the Senate, Horus?" He asked, while beginning to walk away down the street.

---

Somewhere in the city...

“I’m sorry!” A young man cried, his hair soaked to his forehead in sweat. He was dressed simply, in workers clothing, helping out in the stables at the time that the person came to him. His dark brown eyes were wild, looking this way and that for some sort of escape, as if he could get out. But he couldn’t. It was the end, it was… Well.

“I did what you asked,” he cried out, seemingly pathetic in the face of his companion. “I just, I have to tell him, I have to tell the prince.” A soft sob escaped the male’s chest, and the companion sneered at him, eyes hard.

“You did what I told you to do. You killed him. Why are you worrying now? It’s not as if you’d get caught!”

“That’s not what matters, I can’t, I can’t live with this guilt, and what you promis-“ he was cut off.

“We can’t act so soon, unless you’d want the suspicion thrown onto us.”

The man took a few deep breaths, strong fingers pushing through his mop of hair while he struggled to calm himself down, but it wasn’t working.
“ I know I’ll be killed. But I have to, you have to understa-.”

Once more he was cut off, this time, though, by the embrace of the person whom he was with. Admiration showed in his eyes for a split second, before pain clouded those dark hues.When the second person pulled backwards, the dangled was shoved in his chest, angled upwards beneath the rib and into the heart. He staggered backwards, his lips parted as he stared in shock and awe at his companion. "Why," he sputtered out, before he gasped and fell back onto the hay, slowly dying, bleeding out.

After a few moments, the figure slipped forward and tugged the dagger out from the male's chest, careful to skirt the blood so that it didn't get over the robes that covered it's form. Once that was done, the figure stalked off, leaving the dead body, with it's eyes wide open, staring into space.

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Imes raised a black eyebrow before chuckling. “Poe and I do not share the same language anymore then you share the language of that of a common dog. However, even animals have emotions, and if you are observaint enough you can guess what they are thinking. It isn't sharing a language though.” She said, petting the ravens black feathers. She was used to this question, the people that saw her talking to her companion always seemed to jump to the conculsion that she was a witch. Which was slightly true but they were wrong on the language account.

The woman gave the man a small bow, her wild black hair covering her face as she got permission to leave. “Thank you prince, and I, like the many citizens here, hope that your father's murder is found. And thank you for not arresting me either.”

She straightened herself up, pushing some stray hair behind her head before grinning at him, and slowly turning around, walking away as her head was cast upwards towards the night sky.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Bal'roch
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#, as written by Lobos
The sun had risen in the late hours of the morning before Bal'roch made his way back into the city. His steps heavy from the burdens he carried, the hunter nonetheless managed to return one of the guards' nods his way. Once counted among their number, he'd left. With the scrutiny on his ideas for the guardsmen in general, one could say he'd been forced out. Shrugging at the mocking smile he got in return, he simply hefted his weapons, bags of furs and meat once more and shouldered on.

The man made his way for the trader's square. He had the inklings of another idea, and needed the materials. And of course, a fairly decent haul to get started on it.

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Horus Character Portrait: Tenszar
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#, as written by Nevan
"I'm sure that your actions to come will dictate your standing," he replied; talking calmly as he strode through the busy streets. "But until then, I would be a fool not to start with the foundations my father spent fifteen years building. This place, this culture, is the first of its kind. No other such settlement exists as large or as advanced as we; we're the dawn of a new, brilliant era and I need to make sure the men and women who build it are worthy of remembrance."

He watched as the Senate rose before them, high above the surrounding buildings upon a mound of white stone and exactly fifty steps to climb to reach the pillar-laden entrance.

"My mother despises this place. She says that one day I will come to also despite it, as a pit of snakes and spiders. I hope that her prophesy turns false, or at least falls short of the target."

He began to climb; Senators, Soldiers and Citizens alike stepped aside to allow him higher. The chambers were not fully open to the public, but the outside and the public forum within (where administrators received feedback from the common man and relayed it to the meeting halls beyond) were often teeming with men, women and children of all ages and occupations.

This is why, that when a certain foreigner had climbed those steps barely ten minutes beforehand, he hadn't been stopped. Looked upon with slight suspicion, perhaps, but the people were very aware that no such law yet existed where ostracization was a vald path.

This, perhaps, was about to change.

As the new king climbed higher, the foreigner began to descend and wound a cream turban around his face like a mask, while brandishing a four-inch bronze blade in his hand. The assassin began to quickly move...

Down the steps he ran, two at a time, before leaping forwards and falling down upon Tenszar, who was pre-occupied with watching his feet so he didn't fall. The two stumbled, fell and rolled in a scrawling heap back down to the street below.

At the bottom, one man pinned the other. Punches were thrown by the one underneath, followed by a slash of a blade that the prince could only block with his naked hand. He grabbed the hand and the knife within it and wrestled as hard as he could.
A rock was thrown by a nearby man, which struck the assassin in the head and caused him to stumble to the ground. He released the knife, but Tenszar's left hand and wrist had been struck and royal blood began to spread quickly over the stone ground.

The assassin regained his composure, watching as two dozen guards began to quickly run to fill in the surrounding area and come to their King's aid. The foreigner made the choice to run and delay his death. Against such numbers, with Tenszar still alive, he knew he could not succeed witout throwing away what he was not yet willing to leave. The would-be killer thus turned, pushed his way through the growing crowd and disappeared into the city as many a guard began the chase.

At the bottom of the stairs, Tenszar could only tightly clutch at his wound with his remaining right hand and watch events unfold around him. "Healer!!!" he yelled; he cried.