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The Multiverse

The Multiverse Open!

Where legends collide, warriors rise, and titans fall. This is a massive open world that you are free to explore and interact with; a sandbox for your characters.

Owner: Remæus
Game Masters: Remæus, Ylanne, Patcharoo, lostamongtrees
Tags: #adventure · #collaborative · #combat · #crossover · #endless · #exploration · #freeform · #futuristic · #genreshifting · #guildplay · #inspiration · #inspire · #legends · #lore · #magic · #mecha · #metaverse · #multi-genre · #multiverse · #open · #original · #persistent · #persistent-world · #rpg · #sandbox · #science-fiction · #space · #spacepunk · #storytelling · #technopunk · #titans · #verse · #warriors · #worldbuilding (Add Tags »)

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rigel Lake
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INK

The City of Magicks, Castle Cadremus



"All residents of Castle Cadremus and surrounding areas please report to the gates immediately! This is not a drill! I repeat, this is not a drill!" yelled a teenager's voice, echoing through the woods with the distinct sound of magical acoustics enhancement.

Rigel had literally jumped out of the Magiton Gunship as soon as it had landed in the landing spot marked crudely with a giant 'L' surrounded by a circle. The marking had been made with chalk, and was soon scuffed over as the crews of both the Gunship and the space probe Alphaeus Iratel (the Irritator, Rigel would have to note with a certain fierce satisfaction) had been charged with piloting ran out from their respective spaceships.
Truth be told, he hadn't tried that hard to keep the gunship moving after the initial burst of speed. It was only the fact that he was a prodigy at Aeromancy that kept his ship ahead of Alphaeus'.
He really had to give a hand to that Aeromancer on his ship, by the way. What was her name? Laetitia? Adonais? He couldn't be effed to remember, and left the matter of names alone as he regained his thoughts and starting to organise things.

"All Magick-users, please report to the Tower of Subterranean Magicks or the Tower of Infernal Magicks posthaste!" Orienda screamed, using the same technique that he had to enormi-largi-cafy his voice just fifteen seconds earlier to come out with another announcement.
He had to hand it to her too. He'd never heard the word 'posthaste' used correctly up until this point.

With that, the crews of both ships vacated the landing space, leaving the ships in the middle of the landing point. Any spaceship wishing to land would have to land in the forest.

By the time Alphaeus, Rigel, and Orienda made their way to the gates (someone intelligent had left the drawbridge down), a veritable crowd of forlorn-looking adults, children, and assorted pets had assembled, looking rather like the inhabitants of Gambit's Bar; that is, assuming their apparently unlimited coffers had suddenly run dry.
The three of them set out immediately to push the crowd through the ever-so-slightly-open gates, as per Emergency Code XIa:

Emergency Code XIa: In the case of a necessary evacuation, relocate all forest inhabitants into the closest, most densely packed town, city, or castle available. This will result in better defences in the case of direct attack.


They were joined within a couple minutes by the likes of Balinda Wright and Ellana Normane, which aided immensely; Balinda's large frame, rather reminiscent of a particularly vicious gym teacher, and Ellana's particularly bothersome squeals of annoyance whenever someone took too long squeezing through the gates ensured that no one wanted to linger in front of the gate for more than was really, really necessary.
Finally, it was just them five.
"What're you waiting for?" Ellana enquired in a bubblish, girly voice. Rigel stifled a snicker, attempting to stay any thoughts involving the reader's mom. "Let's go!"

On the way to the Tower of Infernal Magicks, Orienda and Alphaeus each brifed their equals about what was going on, after ordering the crowd towards the farmers' quarter. Evidently, a large fleet of spaceships had been seen heading over to Grimore, and Grimore could expect either massive invasion or a giant gift of trash metals.
Balinda tripped over herself as they wound about the spiral staircase leading up to, and Rigel coughed a hacking cough. Orienda was not amused.


Three minutes later, the five of them found themselves joined by the other three Sub-Generals, Tyrelio, Gyrel, and Rish. Rigel sidled over to the former, but was stopped in his tracks by a look from Orienda. Clearly, this wasn't the time for romance.
With that said, Orienda began an impropmtu speech.

"As the Generals have been informed, we are to be possibly invaded. Us Generals will be heading the situation from the two Towers closest to the entrance; this one and the Tower of Subterranean Magicks, as you very well know. Now, you Sub-Generals will be overseeing the situation from the main gates of the Castle." She ignored a clap and a gasp from Rish and Gyrel's direction. "Rigel, you'll be establishing a wind current over the entire Castle, correct?" With a nod from the mentioned, Orienda went on. "Gyrel and Rish, keep track of the moat. Freeze it if you have to." The twins nodded as well. "And finally, Tyrelio..." The man stood up just a teensy bit higher. "Keep Rigel safe. We don't want to be losing anyone if we go to battle today, especially your boyfriend."

Rigel blushed furiously and excused himself for the lavatories, earning him a badly-suppressed giggle from the twins.
He'd have to get them for that.


A minute later, the four Sub-Generals stood at the banks of the moat, careful not to touch anything into the water; despite Ellana's assertions that it was completely and totally safe to bathe in (she offered to drink the water herself, an offer that Rigel would have wholeheartedly accept it had it not been for Orienda again giving him the look), they were very much wary of anything that Ellana deemed safe.The drawbridge had been sunk surreptitiously below the water, and it now rested at the bottom of the moat. Rigel felt rather sorry for Gyrel and Rish -- they had appeared quite constipated during the entire process, and he shuddered to imagine what awkward noises and painful-looking faces they would make raising the bridge up.

Tyrelio suddenly stood up and walked a couple metres to the left. Rigel followed him almost instinctively, wanting his prescence -- even if the boy didn't want it back. For that really what he was; he might have been a year or two older than him, but he could hardly keep his alcohol down, let alone consider himself a grown-up. Plus, Rigel enjoyed fancying himself the more mature one in the on-and-off, love/hate thing they had going on.

"I really, really missed you," Tyrelio muttered softly, more to himself than to him.
Rigel cracked a smile, reluctantly.
"Romance while Rome burns, eh?"



The Town of Gransfeld




Over a hundred kilometres from Castle Cadremus, the first shots of the first intergalactic war to reach the Grimore system were fired.

The populace of Gransfeld, a sleepy little place hardly fit to be called a town, were soon rudely awakened by the sounds of moving rocks.

A little girl, perhaps the age of ten, sat upright in her crude wooden bed fashioned from lumber that the last thunderstorm's bolts had felled. She glanced around timidly, then rolled off the piles of wool blankets and old clothes stitched together that made for a mattress. She sidled up to the window, as she always did when there were sounds keeping her up at night, and gasped.

Strange lights were flickering near the Rock Over By The Way. She and her friends were fond of playing near that particular outcrop of stones; she'd been a tomboy from birth, and her parents were seriously considering sending her off to perhaps Dyline, by the coast, to teach her the more 'masculine' trades. Her mother had been the same as her, a rowdy sailor's daughter, and her father, a woodsman and carpenter, had only been able to tame her in a duel that she had carelessly challenged her to.

Suddenly, the pattern of lights by the 'back' of the ship changed, and she could distinctly hear the sounds of footsteps. Not the usual light, gentle steps she had come to associate with her countryfolk.
Plodding stomps that she could hear from a long while away.

"Metra! Patre! Vos ostine! Vos ostine!" she yelled, ripping herself from the side of the window and barrelling out of her room.


Two minutes later, the alarm was sounded.
And another minute later, every male of age in the town had found themselves by the large pool of water in the centre of the town, outfitted with at least a copper sword or a shield. The girl gasped as she laid eyes on one of the oldest in her group, a male nearing fourteen or fifteen. He was one of the lucky few who had armour on.
He caught her staring and walked over, patting the girl's shoulder with a lacksadaisal grin. "Myrin, noxis tremulo. Vos joyeu, pare dun. Deux'll esh bren,"* he cooed. "Noxis tremulo."
Then, at the sound of a shrill whistle, he stood to arms immediately -- Myrin didn't quite know how he knew what to do, perhaps it had something to do with the 'private' classes that he'd been taking with that scary teacher lately? -- and hurried off to where a crowd of men with armaments was beginning to form, on the side of the town closest to where the queer lights had first flashed.
Now, if Myrin squinted, she could see the faint outline of vaguely humanoid shapes approaching her sleepy little village. She shivered.

"Noxis tremulo. Deux'll esh bren." Her mother appeared at her side suddenly, resting a hand on the slight girl's shoulder. Myrin looked up at her mother in the dark of night.
Myrin could swear her mother was smiling.




* - "Myrin, stop worrying. Be happy, for me. It'll be fine.