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187.5 | 2022-01-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "\"Naah, I'm not originally from this country. I have to constantly travel around the world due to my work. Staying at a place for too long is risky in my line of profession.\" \n*He said. Their order would arrive soon enough, he had ordered a steak and some bean soup. He then said, taking a piece of steak and eating it.*\n\"I am in this city temporarily as well, it's been 2 weeks since I first came here. And I'll be moving out in a few weeks or so.\"\n\n*He looked at Max and Kled enjoying their food as well.* \n\"By the way, what about you two? Mind telling me more about yourselves as well?\" *He asked*"
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "\"Well because of what i'am i cant stay at a place for long.\"\n*Max said while he looked down at his plate.* \"I, could not make much friends or anything and my powers are to dangerous which i cant control.\" \n\"Kled saved me... My mother learned me how to make food and make tea and all such things.\" \n*He looked at Walter with a soft smile on his face.* \"My father was not that happy with me. I think he always have known about my power.\"\n\"None of my parents had magic so i do not know if they saved me or not.\" \n\"A had a little sister named Daisy they all ...\" *He stopped his sentence and tough about the terrible night that happened.*\n\"Something happened that night because of a creature and my powers... Something was in the house that night. My mother told me to run.\"\n*Max looked at kled for a second.* \"I run into the forest and that is where i found him. He saved me that night...\""
},
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "\"Uh huh, sorry to hear about your loss...\" \n*He had already known what could have happened from the few hints that Max gave.*\n\"Anyways, you don't need to worry about anything as long as you are with me. Because I'm strong ya'know\"\n*He said with a smirk on his face.*\n\"So, where are you planning to go from here? I mean like we'll eventually have to leave the city in about a month so...\"\n\n\"Also, I forgot to introduce myself properly, apologies for that. So I'll inyroduce myself once again\"\n*He cleared his throat and looked at them again.*\n\"I am Walter De Verizon, also known as the famous assassin by the name of \"The Angel of Death\". Though I said I'm an assassin, I'm not the kind who'd kill anyone indiscriminately for money, I'm a noble person after all. I only kill those who I deem as the lowest of low, as for others I just let them live with a trauma and fear in their hearts which reminds them of my face before trying to do anything wrong again.\""
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "*He smiled while he looked at Walter.* \"Maximillian Kane, pleasure to meet u lord Verizon.\" \n\"I am very glad u did not kill me in the woods. How is your soup?\" \n*He smiled at him and showed great interest in Walter.* *Kled was fast done with his soup and burped when he was done.*\n*Kled stood on the chair and now looked at Walter and Max pointing at a coin a man was holding.*\n\"He wants to ask if he can steal more. No Kled low profile you have stolen enough for one day.\" *Max said while he looked at kled.*\n*Kled would fast sit down and cross his arms like a angry toddler.*\n\"Do you have any family? Father? Mother? Siblings? Aunts and Uncles?\" \n*Max was paying very much attention to Walter as he was very very very interested in talking to another creature.*"
},
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "\"Well... I am alone right now... So yeah. But I guess you'd be surprised to know this, I am half-human.\" \n*He whispered quietly to Max,not wanting the others to know.*\n\n\"I was raised by my human mother, I've never met my father nor heard about it him from my mother. But it can be safe to assume that I got my powers from him.\"\n*He said with a smirk forming on his face, his arrogant nature was starting to show slowly.*\n\n\"Also, hold your partner down a little, no one knows when I might be ordered to kill him, and I won't hesitate to because of his habit of stealing.\" \n*He said with a serious tone and chuckled a little*\n\n\"But anyways, you'll have no shortage in money or food living with me, as I get some good amount of cash from my job.\""
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "\"I am sorry to hear that Walter, I am here for u if u ever need to talk about anything.\"\n*He softly smiled at him.* \"Do you not want to find your father and meet him?\" \n\"He might have answers u might seek?\" *He looks at him a little worried knowing that fathers can be a pain in the ass.*\n\"And u do not have any partners? Or companions? I would have gone insane if i did not find Kled.\" \n*Max looked at Kled for a second but he was picking his nose and eating it, Max would looks kind of disgusted at Kled.*\n\"Well... Some of us are insane . . .\" *Max said while he looked at Kled now he was looking at random creatures sticking his tongue out.*\n*Max shook his head and was a little ashamed.* \"Do you have any love interest?\" *He would ask quickly while he looked at Walter again.*"
}
] | 184.5 | 1,125 |
305.466667 | 2021-11-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "*It was a warm evening inside the Hungry Wolf Tavern, and as per usual, Sir Rikard Van Dahl was having a grand old time. The man was absolutely massive - standing at a well-muscled six feet and eight inches, with a few crocodile scales peeking out from his shoulders, he cut an imposing figure. At the moment, he was draining a tankard of ale directly into his mouth, laughing and joking with the bartender all the while.\n\nHis eyes were a sea-green shade, his hair a tawny brown. He didn't speak like a nobleman, and his deep, rumbling voice contrasted greatly with the apparent youth of his face. But even so, the man was clad in steel armor of high quality, which bore the emblem of the Royal family on it. He was of course off-duty, but it was his prerogative to wear the King's colors as a member of the prince's household knights.\n\nHis hair was cut short, practical to fit into a helm or other headwear, and he carried with him a steel mace on his hip beside a dagger of plain make. The smile he wore extended to the corners of his eyes, and it was clear that he most enjoyed the current situation. He felt quite a bit at home here.*"
},
{
"author": "skelly4182",
"message": "Ghorza wanted no- *Needed* A win. It's been a rough time for the female today and what is a better place to do that at the bar? The overly tall green woman pushed the door open, getting hit in the face with the smell of booze. \n\n*Perfect*\n\nIt's just what she needed. She breathed in through her nose and took in a big whiff of the familiar smell she's grown used to. Her eyes scan the scenery spotting the civilians who tried their best not to waste any liquor from their cup. She saw others who did the complete opposite and spilled it all over the ground. \n\nGhorza walked inside and saw an empty table that wasn't too crowded. The Orc walked right up to it and jumped top, grabbing the attention from the fellow's below. Reaching to her side, she grabbed a stash of coins that were placed in a small bag with a dark brown ribbon to keep it shut. \"Anyone up for a challenge? The winner takes all these coins.\" She shook the bag making it jingle, \"All you have to do is best me in arm wrestling.\" \n\nGhorza had a smirk on her face and jump down. She took a seat at the table she once was standing at. It didn't matter if she lost her money that night. They weren't hers to begin with. She did a man a favor by holding onto his coins while he lay in an alley unconscious not too far from here from a punch he had to the face. Ghorza placed her arm at a ninety-degree angle on top of the wooden table as she waited for her first opponent to step up. \n\nHer eyes scanned the room once more to see if she can spot any opponents. Her eyes stumbled across the gigantic man. She wasn't too pleased about a knight being here. It's supposed to be fun, not supervised. Her smirk quickly became sour as she stared at the green eye male. The female was not a fan of knights mostly due to the fact she has had communications with a couple in the past. Ghorza wiggled her fingers at the man in the hope he would step up to the challenge. It would be nice win for her to beat a knight."
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "*The arrival of the orc woman was a shakeup, Rikard knew. She barged in, held up a bag of coins, and challenged anyone to arm wrestle her. If that was the way it was going to be, that was fine with him. One of the select few things that Rikard really hated in life were bragging and losing. \n\nTo be fair, though, he didn't mind inflicting a loss on someone else. It was a favorite pastime. \n\nFrom his throat came a rumbling, reverberating roar that did not match the face of the knight as he stood up from his stool. He towered a good four inches taller than Ghorza, and he was just as heavily muscled. From the looks of her, he also had about a hundred pounds' advantage. If she wanted a good arm wrestling match, he was obliged to give it to her.\n\nWith a toothy crocodile's grin that **Did** Match the sounds coming from him, he strode over to Ghorza confidently.* \"Are you sure you want to bet me here?\" *He asked in a deep voice that seemed to echo through the bar on a low frequency.*\n\n\"There's a big chance you lose this. You can back out at any time.\" *He sat himself down across from her and made himself comfortable in his seat, placing one elbow on the table. He did not grasp her hand quite yet - he needed confirmation that he was going to get his match no matter what. This woman seemed fierce enough, but there was such a low likelihood of his loss that he wanted to make the competition honestly agreed to before pulling out all the stops.*\n\n*Being a shapeshifter, he did have a few tricks up his sleeve.*"
},
{
"author": "Ghorza Hornbelly",
"message": "She glared at the man who sat across from her. *A big chance of losing?* She scoffs at that comment. \"You did not have to come over here and *Mock me*,\" She said with so much disgust behind her words \"I was the one who asked for a challenge did I not? A challenge that you seem willing to do. So how dare you come here and talk about my choices.\" Her nose began to wrinkle up. \n\n\"I am here to give my all. To challenge you with all the strength. Besides, who said you were going to win? I have put up my side of the bet by placing these coins if you win. What do you place if I win?\" She pulled her arm away from the tabletop and crossed it over her chest. \n\nHe had so much confidence and it bothered her. It bothered her that he was looking out for her by saying she could back out of the arm wrestling. It bothered her that he was questioning her choice in action. Everything about this man just made her so... *Angry.* \n\nGhorza knows that she is strong. She has done this countless times. Each time she gives it her all and each time she wins. \"If you are so confident in your win then place a bet that matches your attitude. She pointed to his left toward the side of the match if she wins."
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "\"All right, just making sure is all. I can wager whatever you want me to. In this case, I'll bet you the same amount of coins in that bag. You win, you double your money. I win, I double mine. Now, let's do this.\" *He lifted his arm to grasp hers, interlocking his hand in her grasp, and her hand in his. Notably, he was quite strong - and quite a lot bigger than Ghorza. He had to give her this much - she didn't back down from a challenge. It made his blood pump a little faster.*\n\n\"Unless, of course, you have another bet in mind. I'm not giving up my mace, dagger, or armor, but if there's something else you want, just name it. We'll be reciprocal about it - if I win, you have to give whatever it is up as well. You want to up the stakes? This is how we do it.\" *The toothy grin on his face widened even further as he tightened his grip on her hand, the prospect of a challenge exciting him.*\n\n*He had already downed a bit of ale, and this was his element. Contests in bars, a night out of fun - it was all his prerogative to enjoy, wasn't it? He could beat this orc woman at arm wrestling and claim the coins, then keep drinking through the night. Maybe he could even buy a whole cow at the end of it - he had been rather hungry lately, and with the ability to change into a crocodile, eating a cow was an option he could indulge.\n\nIt was time. What was she going to say? What was she going to do? He hung on to the next word.*"
},
{
"author": "Ghorza Hornbelly",
"message": "Should she up the bet? The woman sat there in silence in her thoughts about what she could do. Upping the bet didn't seem a bad idea. She could have double the amount of coins in her bag and a brand new dagger to include in her collection. On the other hand, if she lost the woman would lose everything. Even the dagger that might be able to prove to her father. \n\n\"I started with this bag so I'm going to stick with it.\" She squeezes his hand tightly, \"If you happen to lose against me then maybe, just maybe I'll bet all my winnings so we can play again.\" The possibility of her losing this battle wasn't low. She has beaten many men and women in the past all different shapes and sizes. He's not going to be any different to her. \n\nA person in the bar places their hand on top of the two and counts backward. She scooted to the end of the bench to get ready for what is about to be taken place. \n\n\"*3*...\n*2*...\n*1*... Go!\"\n\nThe bystander removes his hand causing the girl to tense up the muscles in her arm. Whatever happened during this she isn't leaving without something. She needed a win tonight and that is what is going to happen. \"I'm sorry knight but you are going down.\""
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "\"Fair enough. I wouldn't want you to lose too much on the first try and be scared to come back.\" *He replied evenly as she thought it over. Come on. Get angry. There was too much at stake here - And there was no possible way he lost this. An orc was nothing against him - and this woman unfortunately was just another orc. No shot. As the countdown began, he leaned in, and when he heard to count of 'go', quite a few things began to happen. \n\nFirstly, Rikard's wrist slammed all of its strength against hers, trying to bend it backward. Wrist control was the first part of winning any arm wrestling contest. He strained every muscle in his arm to make sure that he would win the contest - a setup he had won many times before. Everyone thought that they would go up to the biggest guy in the bar and embarrass him at his own game, but every braggart had their pride. This woman was prideful enough to try him when she was entirely outmatched.\n\nSecondly, Rikard's skin began to change, and his muscles quickly shifted his already overwhelming strength into a frankly unfair amount of leverage. Scales blossomed on his skin, he turned a dark and sickly green. His face elongated into a crocodile's snout, his teeth into a gaping maw of daggers, his hands into scaly claws under the gauntlets. His hybrid form was much stronger than he had been in base, and his base was already enough to handle the much smaller orc woman.\n\nHe made his push with confidence, rage, and no small amount of brutality. There was no contest he would turn down, and no woman or man he would underestimate.*"
},
{
"author": "Ghorza Hornbelly",
"message": "Ghorza underestimated her opponent. Deep down in the bottom of her heart, she knew she was going to win. She had done countless amounts of battles and dares, each one succeeding the last. She thought the was going to be the same but as she can see, Ghorza was proven wrong. \n\nHer arm began to lean toward her left side getting closer and closer towards defeat. She was getting frustrated. He warned her what would happen and she didn't listen. Ghorza looked up at him in shock and see a new person sitting in front of her. *No*, the same person in a different form. His shapeshifter form. \n\nShe was pissed that she set herself up like that. She should have known better especially seeing how calm he was about the whole thing, to begin with. The veins in her arm started to pop as she tried her hardest to turn the match around. \n\nUnfortunately, no matter how hard she strived to win her strength was under matched. Her arm started to shake causing the woman to cuss under her breath. \"Shit.\" It was at that moment she knew that she was going to lose the match."
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "*The rush of competition had made his as excited as ever, and he pressed her hand down towards the table irresistibly, slamming it against the wood with an animalistic roar that consisted of a low, guttural rumbling. The crocodile in him was on full display as his chest reverberated with the sound and feeling of victory. \n\nIt was always a high that never got old. The **Feel** Of it.\n\nHe lifted his hand from hers, inhaled a deep breath, took in his surroundings. Perfect. His hide began to change back to a more human shade. Scales were absorbed back into skin, claws into fingernails, and the teeth of a crocodile into the civilized face of something resembling a half-elf or a human. His snout shortened into a face once more, nose propped itself up.\n\nHe was back in his original guise. A man with a youthful face, yet still enormous. There was a deep sigh that left him - the feeling of coming down from a high into a satisfying afterglow was prone to making him entirely too relaxed - like a reptile sunning itself on a rock, Rikard sometimes basked in victory.*\n\n\"I *Did* Warn you, miss...? Actually, I don't think I got your name. I'm Rikard.\""
},
{
"author": "Ghorza Hornbelly",
"message": "\"Damn it.\" She huffed. She lost. Her first was lost to a shapeshifter. A shapeshifter knight to be exact. She wasn't too pleased about the situation that took place. She could have had that in the bag if he didn't transform into a crocodile in the middle of the bar. Ghorza stared at her hand in shock. There was a small burning sensation on the back of her hand from her sand going against the table. \n\nHis words snapped her out of her zone and she look up at him with a slightly annoyed look on her face. A normal human being would shake hands and congratulate them for winning. It's a good thing she is not human then. The green skin woman stood up from her spot taking in his appearance. She noticed the small scales poking out of her shoulders. \n\n\n*'I should have noticed sooner.'* The woman thought to herself before speaking out loud to him. \"Ghorza, \" She picked up the bag from the table and slammed it into his chest. She was still a bit upset about her lost. \"Also known as the person you didn't tell that you were a shapeshifter.\" She gave him an annoyed look on her face. \n\nGhorza wanted to deck him in the face so bad. It was just itching in the back of her head to do that simple action for not being completely honest. Though, that shiny outfit was keeping him safe. Maybe she could do it it outside where nobody can see her."
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "\"Thanks for the cash, Ghorza.\" *He shrugged, taking the purse and placing it onto his belt. There was no huge issue with the fact that she was being a sore loser - only enhanced the feeling of the win for him. It was the sour sting of defeat and inadequacy that he hoped to stave off indefinitely - it felt as bad as it could be when you were on the losing end.*\n\n\"Listen, I thought you saw the scales. They're not exactly hidden, you know?\" *He indicated his neck near the shoulders.* \"And besides, is it a crime to be strong? You certainly are, and no one's blaming you for that.\" *He pointed out, happy in his win, but eager to smooth things over for the sake of peace in the bar. No one needed to suffer property damage for the sake of his pride or hers.*\n\n\"I think we got off on the wrong foot here. It's great to meet you - and I'm not trying to make fun of you, either. All's fair here. Where are you from? What brings you to the bar? I haven't had a good challenge at arm wrestling in a little while - most of these guys already know they've got no chance.\""
},
{
"author": "Ghorza Hornbelly",
"message": "Chills were sent down her back at the male using her name. She should have just gone by a different name or better yet- not given him her name at all. That would have been much simpler. \n\nHe's not wrong. No one is blaming her for being strong. Then again, for as long as she remembers she was strong. Seeing him become more boastful about his win just put her in a bigger funk. It made her just want to reach her hands around his neck and strangle him. \n\nHe didn't help his case either by asking her ***So*** Many questions. She placed her hands against her hips and furrowed her brows. \"I came to the bar to win. The rest is none of your concern.\" Ghorza wasn't a fan of people asking her questions. It meant that it was a step of becoming friends and that is something she does not want to do. Especially with Rikard. \n\nShe sighs. This wasn't a good way to start her time at the bar. Though, the only way she could end the embarrassment is by erasing it. \"You know what, by me, a drink and I'll tell you something about me.\" Ghorza wasn't in the mood to pay for it. Not because she lost her money but because he just gained some. Maybe she might get enough drinks to buzz out this entire time she was here."
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "\"All right, I'll stand you a few.\" *He nodded, stood, stretched out as far as he could. A few cracks were heard as he rolled his neck around. It was always nice to take it down when you were in full competition mode. No one needed to be all juiced up all the time. It was a weapon he could use in specific circumstances.*\n\n\"Pitcher of ale on me, please!\" *He took a few coins from his newly earned stash, strode to his previous spot, and slid them across the bar counter to the bartender. He indicated an open spot next to him at the bar and waited for the drinks to come back. It would certainly be an interesting night, given that he had already had a somewhat interesting contest.*\n\n\"So, Ghorza, what do you want to tell me first? I don't want to rush anything, but I *Would* Like to ask about the choice of clothing. Pretty revealing, don't you think?\" *He asked, nodding down to the bare midriff that he was presented with.* \"Though it does look pretty good, I imagine it gets quite cold. Personally, I prefer warm weather and sun...\""
},
{
"author": "Ghorza Hornbelly",
"message": "Ghorza followed Rikard back to the seat he was once sitting at. She watched him order her a drink not surprised that he did so. He seems like a chatty man. She listened to him ask the question that was on his mind. But wished she tuned him out the minute he asked the second one. \n\nShe needed that drink more than she thought. Her eyes bored into the back of the bartender's head trying to telepathically tell them to hurry up. She peeled her eyes off the person behind the counter knowing that it wasn't going to work and to the crocodile man... Or was he an alligator? She didn't know the difference between the two. To her, they were both green creatures that are meat like her. \n\nSuch an unusual question. She tried her best how to answer that question the best she can but no matter how hard she tried to think her mind was blocked with frustration. So she did something that would help her clear her mind: She hit him. \n\nWas it on accident? Not. It felt great to place her and knuckles against his skin did just the trick to make some of that anger inside her be filled with amusement. \"I said a drink for one question, not two. You had to pay for the other one somehow.\" She gently shook her hand, \"As for the clothes, it's kind of hard to do where the place you live has clothes smaller than your calves.\""
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "*At the impact of her fist against his face, Rikard felt the sting of Ghorza's considerable strength, and his head turned as he took the brunt of the blow. With a red mark on his cheek, he turned his head back to face her, chuckling all the while. It was a powerful punch, but not enough to knock him out of his good humor, it seemed.* \"Well, that's not a bad punch, but I've had worse. Have you ever been hit in the face by the Iron Prince? I tell you, he's got it going *On*.\"\n\n*He let the punch roll off his back like an insult, and continued to chat as if nothing had gone wrong.* \"Have you found a good tailor in town? I think there are a few around Alynthi - there's lots of nobles who get things tailor made all the time, and if you have pelts, I'm pretty sure they can be made into sturdier clothes. I can also say that there are some good armorers who make plus-size weaponry and armor. I had this adjusted for my height, extended. But they do make sets that are perfect for any shape and size. You should check the capital market out - you'll find what you need.\"\n\n*He grinned again, spitting a tooth and some blood on the floor. A new one grew in to replace it.* \"I'm lucky I've got that kind of smile that never gets old, eh? Perks of shifting into a crocodile and not a lion. Lions can't replace their own teeth, but I can do it easy.\""
}
] | 288 | 4,582 |
309.1 | 2021-11-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skelly4182",
"message": "There he goes again with that stupid happy glow. Even when getting punched in the face he knows how to be positive and it killed her mood once more. \n\nIt did a surprise that he didn't take any offense to that. Deep down inside, she was secretly was hoping that it was going to start. Another match between the two of them. \"I haven't been in town that long. I am only visiting for a quick moment to grab some materials that we don't have in the north.\" \n\nWas this some type of trap? Maybe it wasn't a good idea to touch the stranger that she met in the bar momentarily because whatever he is on seems to be contagious. Here she is now talking about her personal life as if she had nothing to hide. It freaked her out, causing her to tense up just a bit. \n\n\"Armor isn't something I want. If I get sliced with a blade, it shows that my opponent put up a fight during a battle. A battle they could not win. The armor is weak. Shows that you hide behind something that barely protects you.\" She remarked. Garza spoke what was on her mind. It was the truth even her companion was wearing armor himself."
},
{
"author": "uss_yorktown",
"message": "\"In the north. Are you from Gantrick?\" He asked, utterly confused as to why she was wearing practically nothing while living in a snowbound country with icy peaks everywhere. Wind, snow, and rain were real dangers in such terrain, and the ability to keep oneself warm was of the utmost importance. Frostbite was especially bad when you couldn't get the warmth you needed, and from the look of her clothing, he was surprised she hadn't been permanently frozen.\n\n\"And anyway, armor is about protecting yourself - it's not very brave of you to get shot up by a dozen archers while you run at them on a battlefield. How brave are they when they poke holes in you while you do nothing? And don't get me started on the advantages of it in close quarters. I have my helmet off right now, but if you'd punched me in the helmet, you'd have broken your hand, no matter how strong you are. No flesh is stronger than steel - and steel doesn't cut through itself, either. No sword cuts through armor. It's one of the basic rules of combat. You have to stick it in the chinks - go through the gaps, tackle someone and get them with a dagger through the helmet slit, or use a warhammer or mace.\"\n\nHe paused for a moment, downed some ale. \"And believe me, having armor is something you want. Stab me in the back? No. Doesn't work. Bury an axe in my chest? No. Slips right off, though it might dent the steel. But your chest I could bury an axe, a spear, an arrow... Your midriff is exposed, and while it's a very pretty midriff, it's vulnerable to all kinds of cuts. People cut you in a serious fight and you can't cut them back? You die. Simple as that.\""
},
{
"author": "Ghorza Hornbelly",
"message": "\"I'm from the north. That's all I will say. I told you earlier that if you keep asking questions. Your going to have to pay.\" She grumbled. Ghorza exposed where she lived. It wasn't that hard to figure out by the amazonian woman wasn't going to agree or deny to that fact.\n\nGhorza had ways to keep warm during the the cold. She had ways to blend in to make sure she doesn't freeze during the harsh weather they have in the north such as collecting fur from the animals that she hunts when heading back to her home to create a simple coat that will keep her warm. Ghorza didn't need to hear from an outsider on how to survive a place that she live her entire life. However, she didn't dare to interrupt the man's rambling about how an armor is the best tool.\n\nHe made some valid points in his presentation. He did make armor seem like a valuable thing to have during combat. Then again, she didn't want to be trapped in something that could be so hot during summer days or to cold for the winter. Just thinking about treading in the snow even more than what she had to do made her brain hurt. Extra luggage on her body was a no go for her. After all that she still wasn't going to do that but an upgrade never hurt anybody.\n\n The bartender finally came back to give her a pitcher of her own. Her hand wrapped around the handle, placing the edge of the cup to the bottom of her lip. The smell of beer. It most definitely was not her favorite smell but it was one she does enjoy. The orc took a chug of brew.The common burning sensation filled the back of her throat. \n\n'Finally, a nice cup of pint that I can enjoy.' She thought to herself before she took another before she placed it down.\n\n\"You talk to much and ask to much. If you have a problem with what I wear here,\" She gestured her stomach area \"Then you should go by something to cover it up since you have all that new money.\" Ghorza crossed her arms over her chest."
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "\"Suit yourself, Miss Ghorza. I think I've paid for one question already. I don't intend to have any more payment of that kind going around, unless you're in the mood for some roughness.\" *He raised his tankard to hers, clinking it against the woman's before he downed the ale and refilled it from the pitcher. His jaws seemed to reach quite wide, his belly always empty, like a vacuum.*\n\n*She was an odd one. Wore nothing in the snow, wore nothing in the rain, wore nothing in the sun. But then again, there was not much he minded about that. Every good view was appreciated, and if Ghorza wanted to provide another, well, that was fine by him. He liked to enjoy life, and if this was another way of doing so, then he had no problems with it. He leaned back on his stool, relaxing onto the bar surface as he faced her and watched the alcohol go down. She definitely was a tough one, that was for sure. He wondered how much she could really take - he was tough, of course, but so did she seem to be.\n\nPerhaps there was something magical about her resistance to the cold.*\n\n\"Oh, please, I would never *Dream* Of covering that up. I'm having far too much fun enjoying the view of it to complain.\" *He gave her a wink as he dug back into his own ale, raising the tankard to his lips and draining it down his long gullet.*"
},
{
"author": "Ghorza Hornbelly",
"message": "The woman sighed in relief, glad that she doesn't have to hear any questions at the moment. It was a mini breather that she wouldn't dare to miss. \n\nThe thought in itched the back of her mind to ask a simple question of her own. A tic for tac if you say so. She turned to face him and rested her forearms against the thigh of her leg. She looked at him admiring his features. She wondered if the knight could snap a log in half without turning it into his reptile form due to his jaw. Is that where most of his strength comes from anyway?\n\nShe sat straight back up, finally formed a question of her own. \"That last guy who decided to stare to long ended up in an alley Rikard,\" She grumbled, pressing the wooden cup up to her lips to take another sip before placing it down once more \"You know, you really know how to push my buttons. If you don't think it's such a good fit then let's do another challenge.\"\n\nThat most definitely was not a question. More like a command at most. She didn't care though. Getting to know the lad was not on her list to do tonight. It was to get a win. Winning a free drink in her book didn't count. The orc wanted the feel of achievement and victory she so desperately craved tonight. \"I challenge you to a brawl with no shapeshifting or that stupid armor of yours.\" She looked at him with a flare in her eyes and anger behind her words. He didn't even have to try and the woman could just get so angry."
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "\"What was he doing in that alley, Ghorza? As far as I can tell, you're asking me to take my clothes off and wrestle.\" He chuckled to himself as he downed another ale. She must have thought she could have won without the aid of his shifter form, but that in itself was another layer of the hustle. If people thought you were cheating with the aid of your animal form, you were likely to get this kind of request - although the 'no armor' was a bit different than normal.\n\nPeople, however, worked the same way no matter what they were made of, and Ghorza had no idea of the amount of brawls Rikard had gotten into as a child, or the grappling training given to knights. The best way to take down another man in armor while dueling him was to grapple him to the ground, pin him, and stick a dagger under his chin and through his brain while you could.\n\n\"But I have to admit, you're intriguing me. I don't back down from a challenge. But if you're getting me to strip for this one, I need some high stakes. Money just isn't going to do it for me. What do you think we're betting for this one, hmm?\" He asked, grinning as he stood and began to remove bits of his armor, starting with his gauntlets, which he handed to the bartender."
},
{
"author": "Ghorza Hornbelly",
"message": "\"He said something he shouldn't have said so I let him sleep.\" She shrugged not really putting any thought into it.She wanted it to be a fair fight with Rikard. It wasn't really fair since the man could be stepping out of his comfort zone but still. She wanted to full effect without any holdbacks and if that metal is as strong as he said during his speech, then she wasn't in the mood to take a hit from it. \n\nShe pondered in her thoughts about what she could bet on. She had nothing to offer since he didn't want any weapons or money. She scrunched her brow trying to come up with an award for the winner. Then it hit her. It wasn't anything too fancy but if the two ever stumble across the same path ever again it could come in handy. \n\n\"A Favor. A favor from an orc could be valuable just like a favor from a knight.\" Oh, what would it be like to have a favor from a knight? She could just simply call in that favor and have him knock the lights out of the civilian or better yet, she can just hit him with the favor that he would owe her. \n\n\"What do you say, unless you have a better idea to bargain for.\" She pulled her hand out in front of her hoping once more that he would agree to the idea."
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "\"Sure, you'll owe me one after this.\" *He replied lightheartedly, giving her hand a firm shake as he passed the breastplate over the bar to the bartender. There was quite a lot of clothing involved in putting on armor - and he needed to remove the leather undergarments before he would be left in his simpler tunic - or better yet, go bare-chested to match the woman in front of him.\n\nHe stripped off his knee plates, greaves, sabatons... All were handed over the bar to the bartender. He was left in a simple yellow and black tunic with the symbol of a black stag on a yellow background - the royal coat of arms of Alynthi. He reached to his sides, grasped the edged of the tunic, and pulled it over his head to reveal an extremely well-built chest, rippling muscles, and a patch of scales running from one shoulder to the other across his sternum.*\n\n\"I don't have any better ideas, so where did you want to do this, Ghorza? Right here in the bar is a bit too much - we're going to break tables, and I don't want the bartender to pay for our little scrap. So how about we take this outside or upstairs? There are a few rooms where we can push the bed out and have ourselves a nice convenient fighting ring.\""
},
{
"author": "Ghorza Hornbelly",
"message": "How much armor did he have? Of course, he had a lot but she didn't think it was going to be broken down into so many little parts. Each one was handed to the bartender where they made sure that it was in the same place. She was curious how easy would be if someone just took the knight's armor while he was wrestling against her for a favor. She wondered what type of favor he would ask her. Would it be used to have another drink with her or more about her? Both were something she did not want to do again. She didn't want to listen to him once more ramble on about the choices that she has done in her life.\n\nShe was caught off guard when she zone back in, seeing him take off his tunic. He didn't have a bad figure. It was clearer now to see his scales better than before. It clearly shows that he had some type of magical ability on him somehow. Garza stared a tad bit longer than what was necessary. It wasn't often that a stranger would take off his entire gear in the middle of the bar. That does happen often since it ***Is*** The bar. \n\nShe stepped down and raised her arms above her head to give her back a nice stretch. \"Everyone wrestles in the middle of the bar. There isn't at least one that hasn't been taken right here.\" She gestured her hand to the tables and guests around her \"But if you don't want to break any tables then we could go upstairs. Just don't be weird like you have been all night.\" She poked the man in the chest, leading the way upstairs."
},
{
"author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus",
"message": "\"Well, maybe *Everyone* Wrestles in the middle of the bar, but I've been going to this bar for a few years, and I sure as hell don't want to be thrown out. I could afford to avoid breaking property.\" \n\n\"As a side note, if you don't see what's funny about challenging me to a wrestling match on the floor, I don't envy your sense of humor.\" *He tossed a coin to the bartender, and followed Ghorza Hornbelly upstairs. There wasn't much else to say as he hummed along and they made their way to a room.*\n\n*He pushed ahead for a moment to open the door for her and step inside. It was well made but meagerly furnished, and there was indeed enough floor space. For a good wrestle. So Rikard began his exercises - stretched his arms one by one, dropped low into a staggered stance, and rolled his neck around.*\n\n\"All right, beautiful, you wanted a challenge? Let's do this.\""
}
] | 300.5 | 3,091 |
232.666667 | 2022-01-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "luckyjack4862",
"message": "The doors to the tavern moved aside with a soft squeaking. Strolling in came a Dragonborn in a dapper vest, and neatly washed undershirt and pants. Accompanied by a quaint little hat that rested atop glistening yellow scales. Such attire was not uncommon in a Capital city, and as such, very few patrons even batted an eye to the gentleman as he approached the counter and hailed down the barkeep. Speaking loudly so as to be heard over the rabble of the bar.\n\n\"Pardon me, but I'll have a Nectar Mead, and a bottle of wine, please. Kobold Reserve, if you have it.\" The Dragonborn requested, with a toothy, fanged grin being offered alongside his request.\n\n\"Two coppers for the Mead and two silvers for the bottle. Anything else?\"\n\n\"No, that'll be all.\" Coins clinked softly on the counter, and within a few minutes, Dandy had a wonderful frothing cup of Mead, and a bottle of deep reddish-brown coloration before him. He cheerfully took a large drink from the stein, sucking down two or three mouthfuls, and placed it in front of him. Warmth and sweetness slipped down his throat and settled in his belly, where it spread through his body and seemed to ease all his stress away. It felt good to be home. Drinking his favorite drink in his favorite tavern. It was a nice way to unwind after a few months on the road with very little success in his mission so far."
},
{
"author": "Arcturus Longwood",
"message": "*The doors would swing open once more as the large Knight entered. The Aasimar would catch many looks as he entered, which was understandable. Aasimar weren't known for kindest of reasons, and typically their presence meant some form of trouble relating to the law. Luckily though, Arcturus was here for pleasure, not business. \n\nHe would make his way towards the counter, finding a spot a few seats off of the Dragonborn. He was here to meet with a Tiefling by the name of Skalyre, but it appeared he had arrived early. He'd give the barkeep a wave, calling him over.*\n\n\"Barkeep, just the water as normal please.\" \n\n*He'd watch as the barkeep retrieved for him a bottle filled with water, placing down a few silver pieces as payment. He had given the barkeep much more than what was required, but he did this as a thanks ahead of time, in case anything was to occur in the tavern during his time inside.*"
},
{
"author": "luckyjack4862",
"message": "Dandy flicked his eyes over to where the knight had taken his seat. Perfect, a drink, and now some pleasant conversation. Without a moment's hesitation, the Dragonborn slid his drinks alongside himself down the counter and stopped next to the unfamiliar face. He took another drink from his mug and placed it gently on the counter in front of him as a small belch crept between his teeth.\n\n\"-ah. Pardon my poor manners, good sirrah, but I'm not one for celebrating alone. Might I request your company for the duration of my stay here?\"\n\nThough he was clearly *Already* In the soft sway of alcohol's warm embrace, he made sure to maintain enough physical distance as to not impose his presence. Though, as far as Dragonborn went, his figure was rather lean and lacking in the size or definition that most males carried."
}
] | 207 | 698 |
163.6 | 2022-01-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "luckyjack4862",
"message": "Offering a respectful nod in return to the water being offered, the butler placed the empty glass of mead back on the counter. He took a small sip from the cup and looked across at Arcturus as the knight spoke.\n\n\"Perhaps that is the case. Perhaps not. Though my dreams have since moved on from that ambition. I take pride in who I am today, rest assured. As we all should. Knighthood could not possibly bring me the same satisfaction. Once I have found a new Master or Mistress, there will truly be nothing to compare.\"\n\nHe leaned back on the stool and took another drink of water. Satisfied by the thought. \n\n\"What do you think you would have done if knighthood hadn't been your career path?\""
},
{
"author": "Arcturus Longwood",
"message": "*Arcturus would cross his arms beginning to think. It was clear to Dandy this question struck deep to Arcturus, and that it was not a clean cut answer. Throughout his life Arcturus had always been on this path, and while he has had thoughts about deviations, never had he really considered them.*\n\n\"I suppose that creates two questions. As an Aasimar it was my destiny to work towards Justice of this world. Perhaps if not a knight I may have become a politican, or one of those rangars you see roaming around. If I wasn't an Aasimar though, I probably would have become a miner like my father.\""
},
{
"author": "luckyjack4862",
"message": "The Dragonborn uncrossed his legs and smirked. A pragmatic answer to be sure, accounting for such speculation. Certainly he had found fun company for his short little excursion. He stood from his position at the counter. Quickly finishing the water that had been given to him.\n\n\"Ah-. A wonderful response. Grounded and confident. Traits I find most amiable...\" The bright yellow Dragonborn let his expression fall to a neutral position and he offered a bow of respect to the knight. \"I thank you for such rousing talk, but I'm afraid our pleasant bout of conversation ends here, good Sir Arcturus. My travels leave me little time for rest, you see. Though a drink and a worthy mind to banter with make them so much more enjoyable.\"\n\nHe rose back to his full height. Placing a hand gently upon his chest.\n\n\"I do hope you'll accept my apologies for the abruptness, but I haven't forgotten you're waiting to meet someone here and I would hate to scare them off.\" His hand fell back to his side. \"And I need to get myself sobered up with some fresh air before I take my leave again soon.\""
},
{
"author": "Arcturus Longwood",
"message": "\"Of course Dandy.\" \n\n*Arcturus would say, rising to meet the Dragonborn. As he bowed, Arcturus would wave it off offering him a hand instead. The Dragonborn had kept him good company here at the tavern, and he was appreciative of the kind words and stories he had shared tonight.*\n\n\"It has been a pleasure Dandy. I wish you well and with good luck in your travels. I'm certain you will find the right person soon, and I look forward to running into you again.\""
},
{
"author": "luckyjack4862",
"message": "Dandy accepted the Aasimar's hand with a gentle grip. Shaking hands with enthusiasm. He reached into a pocket in his vest using his opposite hand and removed a small paper leaflet. Placing it into the palm of the knight as his main hand retracted.\n\n\"A pleasure indeed. I'm going to make one small final request, Sir Knight. Keep me in mind. If you see someone I may be interested in, perhaps let me know when our paths next cross. Good tidings to yourself and your company.\"\n\nWith a swift pivot, he turned and began to walk out. His motor functions were not yet inhibited by drink, so his exit was clean and graceful. He pulled open the door and stepped out into the afternoon sun with a deep inhale. Disappearing as the heavy wooden door shut behind him with a dull **Whump** As it knocked into the padded frame."
}
] | 155 | 818 |
749.333333 | 2022-08-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "The Southern Elk",
"message": "*It was a rather lively night in the tavern. In comparison to the nights beforehand, the tavern bustled with new patrons. Soldiers. Their tab ran large, yet the gold was covered by the king. Most were simple pikemen, coming fresh from a small skirmish in the Greenheart. Slavers. Found trading Dragonborn slaves to a few drow from Lazaroth. The lizard-folk had freshly escaped from Dasvaz after the Chieftain gave his great speech. The soldiers themselves agreed with his sentiment but weren't huge fans of the extra work slapped onto their plate from it. Many men coated in chainmail with long, rigid spears wrought of yew and iron stood around the bar, lively and merry. They had reason to celebrate. A job well done. Though, a job they hardly had any hand in. Out of the 50 men, only one had killed any slavers. He stood near the bar, raising a flagon of ale to the wooden roof above him. His armor clanked and muffled his voice as he cheered out, an invisible smile beneath his heavy steel visor.*\n\n\"FOR GOLD AND GLORY!\" *The Elk cried, the pikemen in front of him answering with their own call.* \"THANKS TO YE, SOUTHERN ELK!\" *Dunkan watched as the men in front of him moved to down their pints, chuckling as he handed his mug off to a man standing next to him. 'I didn't really do all that much.' He thought quietly, shrugging as he turned back to the bar, removing his signature dagger. He held the knife firmly, slamming it into the bar with a certain swift grace. He carefully played with the blade, moving it back and forth as the tip of the dagger remained firmly embedded in the wood. He sighed softly, staring down at the bar through the thin visor he still clung to.*\n\n*He wasn't in the best of spirits. He hated returning to the Greenheart. Especially for slave hunts. Even thinking of those trees brought him back to the days of yore. When Ser Dolwyn was lost. His mind painted an infinite picture of it. Of the spear that slammed into his neck. He could still hear the thud he made when his body fell into the mud, rain pattering on the steel of his armor. He always kept it clean and shiny. Dunkan stared down at his gauntlet, his eyes inspecting the mud and blood still left on his armor. Silently, he moved to wipe it away, grimacing as his mind flooded with thoughts of his long-lost friend.*"
},
{
"author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen",
"message": "While countless soldiers were making merry in the Hungry Wolf, Winrae stood outside across the street. Watching with a certain irritation, the aasimar had a pretty terribly time this past week- news of the new chieftain and his promise to free slaves the only bright part of the recent days. The moon was full this night, shining high above the world, but Winrae chose to stand under the cover of a tree. Clad in her signature golden armor, the paladin was exhausted mentally and physical, drained to the point of a near delusional state. Essme, her sister, was lost to her own mind and foolish decisions. Ser Edvard had chosen to stand against a superior, a woman with a higher standing, rank and power, and Winrae had fallen far from the person she once was. The warm embrace of Kamara's guidance had completely left her, her chest empty with nothing but a pit of longing and loss. Winrae had never felt so alone. A part of her wished to join people who she thought of as companions, brothers in arms in the tavern- but she knew they'd be more scared of her than happy to see her.\n\nWatching the light of the fireplace flicker out through the tavern's windows, Winrae felt her bones chill slightly. Looking up towards the sky, the moon barely kissed her armor through the thick tree she stood under, but still she closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. *'A sign. Please... I have given my life to you, why do you remain silent? I am lost without you, Shield Mother. Guide me through this darkness, tell me what I must do to feel your presence once more.'* After what felt like hours, Winrae still felt nothing from Kamara, the Goddess of Justice. What was Winrae without her patron? Her savior, her divine? Nothing more than a shell. She had not felt Kamara's presence in over a week, and even before then the connection was dim, like a candle that was at the end of its wick. Winrae didn't know what she was now, but she knew what she wasn't anymore-\n\n*Kamara's Chosen.*\n\n_ _\nPerhaps the Goddess had moved on to someone that was more worthy or holy, and the more Winrae thought about it the darker her head and heart grew. No one was better than she. Winrae was the strongest warrior from Khisfire to the cold mountains of Gantrick. No man or woman dared stand against her might and greatsword, no mage, no knight, no warrior. Winrae was the Winged Stag, a force to be reckoned with that even legions of men were terrified of. The aasimar's chest began to heave in and out, the space within her lung tightening with anger, a deep fury that was fueled by a terrifying voice in the back of her head. A voice that gnawed at her mind, clawed at her fragile state of thought and begged Winrae to do nothing more than *Rip and tear.*\n\n***'₭₳ⱠłɎ₳Ⱨ- ₮ⱧɆɎ Ⱨ₳VɆ ₩ⱤØ₦₲ɆĐ ɎØɄ. ₭₳₥₳Ɽ₳ Ⱨ₳₴ ₩ⱤØ₦₲ɆĐ ɎØɄ. ₮ⱧɆɎ ₳ⱠⱠ ĐɆ₴ɆⱤVɆ ₦Ø₮Ⱨł₦₲, ₦Ø₮Ⱨł₦₲ ₥ØⱤɆ ₮Ⱨ₳₦ ɎØɄⱤ ฿Ⱡ₳ĐɆ ₳₵ⱤØ₴₴ ₮ⱧɆłⱤ-'***\n\nSucking in a deep breath, Winrae moved forwards towards the tavern. Stomping towards the doors, the paladin soon pushed them open and immediately noticed the quick glances her way. Those who saw her quickly grew silent, those who did not continued to drink and be merry until someone else bumped them, whispering to them that the Winged Stag had arrived. As she stood int he doorway, she heard the tail end of the cheering and noticed a man standing out from the others, the man who must have been called the 'Southern Elk'. Eyeing him curiously, Winrae turned towards the other end of the bar and took a seat when she arrived, the bartender cautiously approaching her. Before he could ask what she wanted, the aasimar spoke coldly.\n\n\"Absinthe.\""
},
{
"author": "The Southern Elk",
"message": "*The Elk didn't bat an eye as Winrae entered. He stared softly into the steel band keeping his mug in place, watching as her golden armor reflected off the dull grey. If it wasn't Winrae Kaliyah. Psh. He sighed carefully, temporarily raising his visor to take a small sip of his ale before slamming the iron back down, returning to the knife. He didn't have much time to deal with someone like Winrae. He had heard all the stories. Even as a child, his mother would tell him about her. A magnificent golden beast who descended upon the battlefield to bring only destruction and pain to the enemies of Alynthi. To a child, she was a hero. To a man, she was nothing. He picked his gaze over to Winrae, watching as she inspected him. She carried herself with intense disdain. The knight sighed once more, wiping the thought of the Golden Stag from his mind.*\n\n*He, once again, thought back to Ser Dolwyn. He could never escape that day. That wretched day. The pure pain he felt when Ser Dolwyn shook his last breath from his bloodied lungs. The pure rage he felt when he descended on his enemies. It wasn't only Dolwyn, but all of his friends. The entire company. Lost in a single battle. He couldn't help but blame himself for it. Though, none had ever told him to do otherwise. He watched as the others celebrated around him, chuckling with a somber tone. None of them knew. Not a single one of them knew what he had gone through. That was fine. For the better, maybe. Who knows. It wasn't him. He laughed softly, shaking his head. He often got caught up in his own thoughts. His ears pricked up as he heard a man behind him speak, raising a flagon towards Winrae.*\n\n\"Oi oi, say what you will about 'er, but all I's saying is, when you compare the two, The Elk looks more like a fawn when he sits next to the Golden Stag. All I's is saying!\" *The man called out, immediately facing cries of disagreement from his compatriots. Dunkan swiveled over to face the man, standing from his stool at the bar. He approached the man in pure silence, watching as a look of nervousness came over the pikeman. Slowly, Dunkan moved to grab a mug from the table he was standing near, staring the man in the eye for a few moments. The tavern fell quiet for a few agonizing seconds, each and every soul watching The Elk.*\n\n*Then, in an instant, Dunkan swiftly crashed his mug against the man's own flagon, smiling and launching his fist in the air.* \"To the Golden Stag!\" *He cried, laughing as the men around him burst into cheers and mimicked cries. He took a step back, allowing the man who had insulted him to sit down. Peeking over towards Winrae, he subtly raised his mug towards her, offering a small, silent hello. His own opinions aside, there was no need to sow distrust or hate amongst the ranks. It was all for the greater good.*"
}
] | 668 | 2,248 |
410.666667 | 2021-11-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Prince Astalios",
"message": "*For a few hours, they talked on their way back to the capital. Their words wove around the topics of hunting, and the finer points thereof - how a deer smelled, what 'downwind' constituted, how to stay ahead of the pack, and whether or not he should actually use a bow when hunting, which he resolved to try. The beginnings of ideas about the investigation were also talked around - how he would find the men who had destroyed Heartford, how the records were aligned. He had done research himself for the Alchemist's Guild, and was confident that everything had a trail of parchment following close behind...\n\nThe gates of Alynthi's capital were a welcome sight to the prince, who had so far been enjoying his time in the woods. The sight of a portcullis and walls always made him feel at home, however, and the sense of belonging one could derive from the sight of a place you called your own was always welcome. As they passed traffic on the road, citizens bowed, the attention to the crown given with respect, and returned with the same as he waved to the passerby, inclined his head to recognize their deference, and kept on his merry way.\n\nChildren gathered in clumps, men and women in ranks as they passed, and went back to their business once he was gone. He took his time to make sure he acknowledged the starry-eyed stares of the young ones - after all, he had once been awed by his father's presence on the battlefield, by the gold of the crown, by the weight it held over the kingdom. If he could not use that presence of royalty to put a lighter step in someone's day, then what value was it, really?\n\nTheir eyes also followed the one-eyed woman next to the prince - who was she? Some famous huntress? Their curiosity only lasted as long as she was within sight...\n\nThe horses made their way inside the gate, and then through.*\n\n\"I thank you for your company today.\" *Astalios said simply as they crossed the threshold.* \"It has been a thoroughly enjoyable experience.\""
},
{
"author": "Roesia Vuldratrada",
"message": "All the eyes that fell upon her and the prince caused Roesia to become quite self-conscious. She was used to the city, to crowds sure, but every pair of eyes on her while she was there? Now that felt terrifying. Roesia gripped on Angus's reigns so tight her knuckles became white, though she tried her best to focus on the prince's words. She could feel her heart beating a million beats a second, though it wasn't anything like stage fright. It was more so the fear of people seeing what she actually was. Of course, this was a bit irrational given her, *For the most part,* Complete control over the wolf within her. But what if she simply lost control, right now?\n\nFinally, the prince's words broke through her panicked mind, and as she looked over to him she let out a quick sigh. \"Oh- uh, yes. I'm sorry, I must be more tired than I realized.\" Running a hand through her nearly white hair, Roesia offered a genuine smile in the prince's direction. \"You know, if you want to go hunting again I'm probably going to be in the city for quite some time.\" Gesturing to the wolf on her horse's backside, she continued. \"This wolf should get me a good few days in a tavern, maybe I'll treat myself, do some shopping or some such.\" She shrugged, her mind finally off of the thoughts that plagued her earlier. \"The tavern here, funnily enough I think its called the 'Hungry Wolf', you can probably find me there though-\" Roesia stopped Angus at the end of a street and looked over to Astalios with a grin, gesturing her head over to the guards. \"I'm sure they'd find me in no time if you have any issue.\"\n\nThe young half-elf looked up ahead of her into the city, and at the center of it all the massive and beautifully lit castle.\n\nEven growing up a noble, Roesia had never been within a castle's walls. Manors, noble houses sure, but never a castle. Part of her wished to see the inside of the castle that the prince called home, but would never, *Ever* Ask to be invited in. There'd be dresses and proper greetings- *No thanks.*"
},
{
"author": "Prince Astalios",
"message": "*She doesn't like attention much, he noted. Perhaps the crowds are a bit intimidating to her, and perhaps she's right to disdain attention. Next time he saw her, it would be disguised in some manner - a cloak, perhaps, and less armor. The crown, however, would stay on - and the signet that he carried, as well. There was no sacrificing his own identity. Instead, the accommodation to draw less attention to himself would have to do. Under it all, he was still the same Astalios...*\n\n\"I would very much appreciate the company on my next hunting trip, Miss Vuldrey, and I can say honestly that I will try to get away and find you when I do go. It is my hope that I may do it early enough to find you still in town. I must be off, unfortunately - the family will want to know how the trip went. I shall of course be complimentary about your skill, and begin the investigation into the town of Heartford before telling them of these.\" *He gestured to the rest of the wolves that had unfortunately tried to eat them, and had found that they were no easy prey. She was looking up to the castle. Perhaps, he thought, she might be invited to enter one day, but with the amount of attention she's garnered already, she may not like to.*\n\n\"Farewell, and may the gods grant that we meet again soon.\" *He inclined his head to her, and turned Tempest to clip-clop up the streets leading to the castle, a new memory of good times firmly cemented within his mind.*"
}
] | 428 | 1,232 |
110.857143 | 2021-11-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kuro",
"message": "*He would walk up to the gates, looking around for something to do,or someone to help,he would look at his sheethed sword and sigh as he needs to fix it,but he wouldn't have the money to do so* \"Hmmm\""
},
{
"author": "Cateline Baldwin",
"message": "The woman moved swiftly, her curvy hips swaying from side to side as she walked. Her skirt had two large slits, revealing her toned thighs. Bells and satchels coated her waistline, causing the muffled sound of jingles to emit with each step she took. The way she carried herself exhibited just how highly she carried herself; a true noble at heart. With a confident smile plastered upon her plump lips, Cat ran a hand through her light hair, feeling as strands brushed against her bare shoulders. She had business in this particular city, though she was cautious to not enter too carelessly.\n\nAt the sight of a man idling by the entrance, the elf halted her footsteps, whirling around to face him. He was seemingly normal enough; a bit bland, but appeared as though he was easy to manipulate. A sweet giggle left her small mouth as she approached, intertwining her dainty fingers behind her back.\n\n\"What brings you here? This capital does not think fondly of weak individuals, and you appear to be rather scrawny.\""
},
{
"author": "kuro",
"message": "*He would look down at her being 6\"4 as his face is hidden by a faceless mask with a noticeable crack down the right eye,as he would say* \"I guess,but I make up for it in intelligence,and forgive any rudeness,the same can be said to you\" *He would sound rather innocent as his eyes are barely visable through the mask being bright blue,as his clothing would be a very interesting armour (I'll give image)*"
},
{
"author": "Cateline Baldwin",
"message": "She could feel irritation brewing deep within her gut as he spoke. With a careless huff, the woman leaned away, ever so gently brushing an index finger against her diamond-studded necklace. This was her attempt at concealing her igniting fury. Who did he think he was speaking to? She had far more authority than he could even imagine.\n\n\"I am the Captain of the Thieves Guild, I'll have you know,\" She spat back, her tone being nothing but vile. She still managed to upkeep her charming smile, though. \"Please do respect your elders.\""
},
{
"author": "kuro",
"message": "*He would tilt his head slightly in confusion* \n\n\n\"Yet again madam I'm sorry I have given any offence,I'm new here and don't really know any customs nor social ques\" \n\n\n*He would say this in the same tone as before as he scratches the back of his head*"
},
{
"author": "Cateline Baldwin",
"message": "The woman's sapphire colored eyes narrowed ever so slightly, almost as if she were verbally scolding him. She truly had no time for such chatter, especially with someone that she deemed 'unworthy'. Cat did enjoy to spend time with men, though she was moreso interested in conversing with those that were older than this boy. With a defeated breath, she spun around, allowing the familiar jingles of her waist bells to flutter into their ears. \n\n\"I have some business to attend to.\" \n\nAnd with that, she casually made her way past the gates, simply using her enchantment on one of the stationary guards to grant her passage. Quite honestly, it was far too easy. The sorcerer was particularly fond of her abilities; they shaped her and truly rounded out her personality and features as a person overall. Now to search for someone interesting..."
},
{
"author": "kuro",
"message": "*He would say as they left* \n\n\n\"I was going to ask if I could have some help with my sword\" \n\n\n*He would say semi loud as he would sigh seeing the person leave the conversation,he would then pull his still sheethed sword up to see it*\n\n\"Damn\""
}
] | 95 | 776 |
207.571429 | 2021-12-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thecoreofyourproblems",
"message": "*Abel came up to the notice board, slightly hunched over and hands in his pockets. In his left hand, he twisted the few coins he had left. He took a few good minute to inspect the announcements well, weighing in which had the most financial gain potential, before giving a look at the crowd. It took him a little while, but he finally spotted an official-looking armor. After a last look at the board, he dipped into the crowd only to reappear next to the woman.*\n\n*Placing himself side by side, he coughed a little to get her attention.*\n\n\"Ah, excuse me ma'm, do you have, what, a second, maybe a minute? I have an inquiry , maybe you can help me."
},
{
"author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen",
"message": "Hearing a voice near her, Winrae turned. She had just exited the Temple of the Gods and was walking through the capital square on her way towards the castle, though if someone was in need of help it was her duty as a royal guard to provide it. Turning to face the man who addressed her, she immediately took note of his horns causing her guard to immediately go up. It was a tiefling, and he would no doubt see she was in fact an aasimar by the large white wings on her back. Crossing her armored arms across her chest, Winrae's face turned into a slight frown as she replied. \"What seems to be the issue?\"\n\nIt was obvious by her foreboding demeanor and large golden armor that she was not an individual to be messed with. Not to mention she wasn't fully there mentally, but that was only due to half of her brain being fixated on other issues going on. Winrae raised an eyebrow to the man, her fiery red hair up in a neat bun even after having worn a helmet for some of the day."
},
{
"author": "thecoreofyourproblems",
"message": "*Seeing the imposing armor and wings, and the strong stance, Abel stood himself straighter. He inhaled slowly, taking time to weigh his words and avoid saying the \"Wrong thing\", and keeping the visible part of his face unmoving. He witnessed her eyes go up to his head and felt a slight breeze. For a second, as he realized he has neither his hood nor his head scarf, his heart missed a large beat.*\n\n\"I'm not looking for any trouble,\" He said, raising a single hand at stomach level in an appeasing sign\" Simply I've heard of an even in Hyburn, and well, I'm new to the area and this city. Can I be there for the tournament, and how much will that cost me?\""
},
{
"author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen",
"message": "The hard look in Winrae's completely yellow-gold eyes slowly softened, and soon her expression turned into slight disbelief. \"The tournament in *Hyburn?* Well, Hyburn would be a city in Findara. I believe you may be looking in the wrong kingdom.\" Part of Winrae was a bit skeptical of the tieflings confusion of kingdoms, but if he'd truly never been to either she supposed it wouldn't be all that farfetched. Her demeanor softened ever so slightly and her arms soon fell to her side. \"I know of the tournament you speak of however. It's being held by a Lord Wyberg I believe.\"\n\nWinrae let out a gentle sigh, the words of Arcturus still ringing in her ears. Perhaps the silence from her patron god was for her attitude lately. She had been a bit on edge, after all. With a bit more patience in her heart for a race she usually wouldn't bat an eye toward, Winrae's tone was a bit less strong. \"I know Hyburn has a wayshrine and there's one here in the capital as well, so you could be there in a matter of minutes if you need to be. I don't know the finer details of the tournament however.\""
},
{
"author": "thecoreofyourproblems",
"message": "*Abel sighed. Wayshrines were perhaps the most useful thing he could have access too, and he was so luck to have found one, but it would mean his horse would be unsupervised during this time. He winced under his mask.*\n\n\"This is gonna be a little less... Formal, I think, but... Do you think this tournament is worth it? Is it worth the prize that comes with it? I won't risk it all for something I could earn in an easier way.\"\n\n*Seeing the aasimar relax led him to relax as well. His stance changed, he shifted his weight on a hip and loosely crossed his arms. However, he wasn't relaxed enough to keep his posture too long. He uncrossed his arms, fiddles with his mask by adjusting it, adjusted his bundle bag, shifted from a hip to another.*\n*If this, most likely esteemed warrior judged the tournament worth the coin, he'd take it up. He couldn't afford going hungry anymore. He sighed again, trying to avoid being to loud. He knew people hated when he sighed*"
},
{
"author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen",
"message": "\"Well, in my experience most tournament rewards are based off of the entry pool. So if not very many people enter, its probably not all that worth it. Though if its in Hyburn I'm sure the turnout will be pretty significant. If you think you can handle yourself against fighters from across the world, there shouldn't be too much to worry about.\" A tournament sounded like quite a bit of fun, but Winrae had plenty of coin what with being a royal guard and all. Not to mention not very many people would stand a chance against her in a no-magic duel of arms. She noticed his fidgeting, which she assumed was her own fault. Royal guards tend to get that response from the common folk, especially given the history Winrae and the tiefling man's races have with one another.\n\nWinrae frowned in thought for a moment before shrugging. \"If you're really looking to make a good bit of coin, I recommend the Adventurer's Guild. They take up bounties from all over the kingdoms. Monster hunting, bounty hunting, even things as simple as escorting a cart of goods from one place to another.\" She nodded at her own words, knowing it wasn't by any means a bad way to make coin. There were of course ways to make even more, but those methods were *Usually* Illegal."
},
{
"author": "thecoreofyourproblems",
"message": "\"Well. The Guild is probably a better idea then. It usually surprises people, but I'm really not one for fame.\"\n\n*Seemed like after all, he really did have a chance. He eyed her armor on more detail, appreciating the craftsmanship. He thought he probably looked like a beggar next to the guard, even if his clothes had once costed a lot of money to someone. Feeling brave, he threw in some small talk. After all, every tidbit of information about a new place was good to have.*\n\n\"So...\" *With one lazy movement of his hand, he gestured to her ensemble* \"Let me guess, Palace guard? Royal guard? However you call it. If you're part of the city guard dressed like that, I'm enlisting. This looks *Rich*.\""
}
] | 223 | 1,453 |
182.777778 | 2022-01-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "zekhartha",
"message": "```Voided due to me being extremely busy.```"
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "*Max is standing in the tree lines and stares at the gate and looks back the forest.* \"We cant go there Kled, Its to dangerous.\"\n*Kled would be sitting on max his shoulder pointing at the gate.* \"We will find some sticks and some water... U know how it goes.\"\n*Max puts Kled on the ground and he walks back into the forest searching for sticks and stones.*\n\"Don't wonder off to far Kled I dont want to lose u too in this madness.\" \n*As Max would be searching for some dry sticks he puts it in his backpack and walks further into the tree lines.* \n*Kles would be trying to eat a rock and he scratches his ears like a dog for a second. When he sees Max moving he runs after him like a rabbit/weasel.*\n\"Com on Kled keep up!\" *Said Max with a smile on his face having a little fun with his furry pet.*"
},
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "*When Max was passing by the forest he'd see an unknown person appearing to as a teenager, sleeping on a tree branch. The person appeared to have a short red horn on the right side of its head.*\n\n*The person appeared to be wearing a butler's suit and had some strings attached to his hand, dangling down the branch onto the ground. On a closer look, he appeared to have some bloodstains on his suit.*\n\n*He was completely asleep at that moment and didn't had any care for whatever was happening around him.*"
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "*For a second it was completely silent, Max could not move because of the noise he could make.* |\n\"Kled we will go back... Slowly...\" *Kled didn't listen and walked towards the body like a bunny.*\n*He pricked the sleeping teenager in its stomach to see if it was not dead.* \n\"Kled don't...\" *He woul'd whisper as he took a step closer to the being while he steps on a branch that made a cracking sound.*\n*Kled opened the creatures mouth to see its teeth and sniffed the hair.*\n*Max saw the blood. He could not help himself but help this creature.* \n*He took a deep breath and walk towards the creature to wake it up and see if he had any wounds.*\n\"He, u oke? Sir?\" *He would be shaking the creature a little until it woke up.*"
},
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "*Walter was in deep slumber after being tired from work so he didn't react when Kled prickled him. But he would open his eyes once both of them began to make noises around him.*\n\n\"Uhh... My head... I really fell asleep...\" *Walter muttered to himself before taking a look around him before seeing the young man beside him.*\n\n\"Hm?\" *He took a closer look at him and the creature that was annoying him.* \n\"Uh... Who're ya?\" *He said, looking at Max and then switching its gaze to Kled who was annoying him.*\n\n*It then picked Kled up and put him aside before shuffling his strings.*\n*He then packed the strings into a small ball and ate it. After that he silently stared Max.*"
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "\"Ehm I- I'am Max and that is my friend Kled...\" *A shiver ran down the back of Max, for a second he was scared that the creature would hurt him or kled.*\n*Kled did not mind the creature at all and was investigating in his fancy suit.* *Kled stared with big eyes to the creature eating as he has never seen such a meal before.*\n\"I thought that you were hurt, are you hurt? Can we help?\" *Max looked a little worried to the creature still being a bit scared.*\n*He looked at the red horn on the right side of his head like it was something new he had ever seen.*\n\"What i meant to ask you is if we can help u, we don't need any money or anything.\" *Max stared at the creature very silently and it felt a little awkward.*\n*Kled would sit next to the creature and look annoyed at Max because money was one thing that Kled wants.*"
},
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "\"Huh? What made ya think I'm hurt and need help?\" *He said in a little annoyed tone.*\n\n*He then looked at himself a little and asked in a better tone* \"Youngster, you look scared you okay?\" *He then looked at Kled again and pushed him aside again.*"
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "*Max would be looking down for a second.* \"You have blood stains on your suit.\" \n*He would look back at the creature and is still a little scared.* \n\"I mean i'am fine, besides the fact that humans are getting hunted now days.\"\n*He looks at kled and Kled would be sitting next to the creature like a happy toddler.*\n\"Me and him are on the run... We are searching for a place where we can be safe.\"\n*He felt a little more comfortable with the creature.*\n\"Are you sure that you are oke?\" \n*Kled would try to lick the blood of the suit as the creature stops him.*\n\n\"We are searching for a place where I- . . . Someone we know can learn how to control magic.\"\n*Now Max stood more straight and felt more comfortable with this creature.*\n\"Looks like Kled trust u... He is not like this with everyone... Lets say he is more... Aggressive to others.\" \n*It became silent for a second again as Max would kneel down and puts his backpack on the ground.*\n\"Kled is... Special... He has killed more man then i could count.\" *He gets a little flashback from screams inside a burning house.*\n*Max gets a fish out of his backpack and gives it to Kled.* \"There you go boy.\" *Kled aggressively tries to bite his head of and shake it left and right like its still alive.*\n*When Max tries to stand up again his backpack falls on the ground again and everything falls on the ground.*\n\"Shit... Sorry\" *He tried to grab everything again and puts it back in his backpack.*\n*Finely a little crack could be heard from the fish. Kled finely got his head of its body.*\n*Kled slowly walked towards the creature with the horn and tried to dip the fish head in the blood on the creature its suit.*\n\"You sure you are not hurt mister...?\" *Than Max realised that he didn't know the creatures name, nor if it was going to hurt him.*\n*Kled's left ear would go up like it heard something in the distance.* *Quickly Max was looking between the trees looking if someone was there.*\n*A crow would fly over and spook Max for a second.* \"Maybe we can help each other ... And if U don't need help we could pay you for not killing us.\"\n*Max swallowed the lump in his throat.* \"Or you could tell us where we can find a map? Or a place where where I- we can send someone to learn how to control his magic\""
},
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "*Walter was starting to doze off but gained his senses back as Max spoke. He looked at Max, still in his relaxed position, and said* \"I don't think I know many people who can teach you magic but I guess I could try.\"\n\n*He then got up and stretched his back, now looking up at the sky and then towards the place from where the crow came.*\n\n\"Oh and don't worry about it, it's not my blood. I didn't get the time to clean it, my bad.\" *He chuckled a little and stretched his legs out.*\n\n\"Oh yeah... Humans are a rare sight now a days, though I am not one of those who hunt humans for fun.\"\n\n\"Well if you wanted to help me then why don't we make a deal. I can escort you to wherever you want to go and act as your bodyguard. I'll be taking fees though. In return, we'll stay together and use both of our money to make-up for the expanses. Sounds like a good deal, don't ya think?\""
}
] | 178 | 1,645 |
162.666667 | 2022-01-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "\"Just keep in mind we dont have much money... I mean Kled could steal more...\"\n*Max chuckled softly and was not sure if he should take the deal, but he knew that he would be more safe with him by his side.*\n\"I mean if u know the best place where i can lern how to deal why my curse... Then that is where i would like to go.\"\n*He reached out his hand and had a soft smile on his face*\n*Kled would climb the creatures shoulder and jump to Max his shoulder from there.*\n\"So... Im totaly fine with you. Do u mind giving you youre name?\"\n*Hed ask nice still witch his hand reached out to shake his*"
},
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "*He also reached out his hand and went for a handshake.* \"I'm Walter De Verizon, looking forward to work with you\"\n\n*He said with a smile on his face, he appeared to be a nicer person than before now. Though it doesn't explain how he got his suit stained with blood, but I guess it'll have to stay as a mystery for now.*\n\n\"Alright then, we should be heading back to the city now, it's getting late. So shall we, my master?\" *He said, bowing down to show respect. This person was definitely someone who would be willing to do anything for money, but it was actually not true in his case.*"
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "\"Its a pleasure to meet you Walter.\" *He had a soft smile on his face. It was the first time in a long time since he made new friends.*\n\"You can Just call me Max, If there is someone that would be the master here it would be you.\" *He chuckled softly.* \n\"You are the one that is going to safe my ass. And are you sure that the city fill be safe for me?\" \n*Kled would be looking forward to go to the city, it would mean that he could steal more from the rich and get better food than that fish.*\n*Kled had a develish smile on his face like he was already planning to rob the locals.*\n\"I- i just do not want to cause any trouble and i do not want to burn that city down. Not that i could be able to do that. Its more like a saying.\"\n*Max looked at Walter and was ready to leave wherever he goes. Even if it could be a trap.*\n\"I mean... I'am ready when you are.\""
}
] | 141 | 488 |
157.25 | 2022-01-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "\"My pleasures as well, lord Max.\" *Walter said in a formal tone.*\n\n*He then looked over to the city as he said.* \"As long as you are paying me, I am your butler and you are my master. No exceptions.\"\n\n\"And do not fret my master, I have experience in guarding people in past. And compared to then, I am much sharper and deadlier than back then.\"\n\n\"So do not worry. Even if an entire army comes to harm you, I shall slice their necks off by myself. For I am a man of my words, for I stand with justice **And for I am the Angel of Death.**\" *Walter's words became heavier and heavier as he spoke. Now pointing towards the city he said.*\n\"Please follow me master.\" \n*Walter then began walking towards the main gates of the city and soon entering it.*"
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "\"You can just call me Max, I- I'am not realy a master. Or a lord.\"\n*Max would follow walter towards the city.*\n\"But u live there? In the city?\"\n*Kled would be an axcited little child and he could not wait to steal the coins from people.*\n*Meanwhile max woulf be walking closly to walter since it has been a while since he had been in a city.*\n*Max would whisper to himself:* \"Going to the city what could go wrong?\"\n*As he akwardly smiled it off*"
},
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "\"Not really, I am constantly moving because of my work. And as you saw earlier, I usually just sleep wherever I can.\" *He said, leading Max into the city that was filled with people from different races. Though not a single human in sight.*\n\n\"I have checked in an inn here, but I have only stayed in it for 3 nights in my past month in the city.\" *He chuckled a little.*\n\n\"I sometimes sleep at my client's place, but I usually just spend my time camping, or rather trying to avoid gaining attention.\" \n\n*Max hadn't noticed it yet, but the blood stains on his clothes were already gone magically, and he was cleaner than before.*"
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "*Max would turn around to admire the city as he would be a little scared to see all those kinds of creatures.*\n\"Woa...\" *Max was completely speachless as he followed Walter.*\n*Kled would be taking a leap of faith from Max his shoulder and lands on the ground.*\n*Fast he runs trough the crowed but because he is so small not many people notice him and he starts to pick pocket random people while he walks away from Max.*\n\"Dont worry about him he will be back aventualy.\"\n*Kled fanished away into the crowed like a little rabbit/weasel.*\n*Now Max would stand more closly to Walter as he could see some discusted looks on the faces of some creatures.*"
},
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "\"I am not worried. Though it may be troublesome if we were to get involved in a big scene because of him pickpocketing, so please make sure he stays under control, otherwise I will be forced to bind him unable of movement.\" *Walter spoke in a calm and gentle voice, his way of speaking was also very formal, showing his respect towards Max.*"
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "\"That might be a problem... I cant control Kled. He does what ever he desires to do.\"\n*Max excedently bumped into a creature and it turned around with a annoyed discussed look in its face.*\n*Max would fast walk even closer next to Walter as he almost was holding his hand because he was so scared.*\n\"Ehm, some people did try to handcuff him or tie him up but they all end up dead.\" \n*Quickly Max realised it would sound that Walter is not able to defend himself en Max corrected himself and said:*\n\"I mean of course you will survive Kled he is just... A troublemaker sometimes.\"\n*He awkwardly chuckles it off* \n\"Sometimes he charges right into problems but he is small and he knows how to get away with things... I hope.\""
},
{
"author": "Walter{The Joker} ",
"message": "*Walter looked over to Max to see what he was doing and saw him holding his hand like a child. He chuckled a little and said,* \"Now now, lord Max. What are you afraid of? Am I not by your side right now? You can just go on and challenge anyone at this point, just say them that the Angel of Death is your servant and they'll just piss their pants.*\n\n*Walter became a little more casual now, supposedly from the turn of words, but when Max mentioned about Kled he'd say with a serious and deep tone, as if he was intimidating him.* \"**Well... We'll see about it, if you still underestimate me then let me demonstrate you my power.**\" \n\n*And as he said, he'd pull out the strings he swallowed earlier from his mouth and they began moving in a weird snake like way, as if they were alive. The strings would find Kled and then bind him by wrapping the strings on him. The strings would then start moving back towards where Walter and Max were and then held Kled up in the air.*\n\n\"I'll warn you, if you try to struggle getting out of there then you'll only slice your own limbs off as if they were to move even a little they'd slice right through you\" *He said to Kled and then looked back at Max saying,* \n\n\"So... What were we talking about again?\""
},
{
"author": "Maximillian Kane",
"message": "*Max was amazed by what Walter could do and was watching the show with an open mouth.*\n\"Holy mother of dragons... So what magic powers do you have? I mean demons do not exist at least i do not believe in them.\"\n*Kled would be looking very annoyed but he already stole coins from multiple creatures and his tiny backpack and his arms were filled with coins.*\n*Kled would softly growl at both Max and Walter for doing this.*\n\"Oh and really you do not need to call me lord its just Max you already saved me a lot and it is just the first day!\"\n*Max would look at kled and would make a sorry face.*\n\"Now we follow you again.\" *Max would say with a smile on his face.*"
}
] | 147.5 | 1,258 |
532.5 | 2022-07-01 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Roesia Vuldratrada",
"message": "It had been a good long while since Roesia had met up with Astalios. Their endeavors together were always something the ranger found herself thoroughly enjoying. In fact, it was something she thought about daily. When she and the prince would hunt together again, when she could give him bow lessons or discuss the affairs of the kingdom they both found themselves in. Her friendship with the prince only allowed Roesia to forget the worries of her past, the thought of it coming back to haunt her. Instead of dwelling on yesterday, Roesia could now look to the future a bit more focused than before, and for today that meant another hunting trip with Prince Astalios. Arriving at the capital only a day after her interactions with the strange creature named Sevi back in the Greenheart, the huntress had sold what she had collected over the past week of hunting before heading toward the castle.\n\nNever in a hundred years did Roesia think she'd find herself *Wanting* To be in a city as big as the capital of Alynthi. In her youth, the wood elf regularly attended noble parties, dressed and primped to perfection. Now, Roesia approached a castle no less dressed in a hunter's get up with a cloak atop her head, feeling just as confident. In her pouch sat a stag of iron, a symbol of Prince Astalios. It was something she knew would grab any guard or knight's attention, and something that would directly grant her the presence of the prince himself. Besides, he'd likely know immediately who it was wishing for his company. Approaching the guardsmen at the gates to the castle, Roesia dipped her head out of respect and greeting before presenting the stag statue. A guard took it from her, inspected it, then called for a messenger to fetch the prince. Now, all the huntress needed to do was wait.\n.\n\nFinding a spot to lean against the railing along the path leading back down into the city, Roesia played with the amulet around her neck idly. It didn't summon Hera, her familiar, but it was more just a motion Roesia could do while collecting her thoughts. Was this *Normal?* A person as plain and insignificant as she regularly hanging out with the likes of a prince and future king? Maybe it was something she needed to think on more seriously. What would the ramifications of these actions be? Nothing negative could come to mind immediately, save for the blatently obvious one; her parents. Word would likely spread of a white haired dame 'catching the eye' of the prince. Word of the prince regularly leaving his duties to hang amongst the likes of a strange hooded woman with unmistakable white-blonde hair...\n\nBefore she could let that thought eat away at her anymore, another popped into her head; Roesia's Lycanthropy. What would happen if the prince witnessed her transform? If they were in enough danger or her emotions grew too rampant, the wolf would take over whether she wanted it to or not. What if she lost control? Of course, Roesia had pretty much gained control over her affliction, the last time she had lost complete control being years and years ago. Nevertheless, the fear and potential was real. Should she tell him...? A look of pure uncertainty and fear was plastered across Roesia's face, but it would likely disappear when and if Astalios arrived."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*Astalios had barely returned to the capital from his journey to Lazaroth. Catching a Wayshrine from Findara had much shortened the journey, but the encounter had left him somewhat encouraged to take part in an activity of relaxation within short order - perhaps more sparring, of course, but he was considering taking another hunting party with him when he received a message from the guards of the city, passed along into the castle and the rooms of Prince Astalios himself. As per his standing orders, those who bore the silver stag were to be accommodated in their requests to send messages, provided their stags were genuine - they were enchanted by Astalios's own hand to react with coins given to the Guard captains in order to verify them, much like a lock and key system.\n\nIn any case, when one of them was activated, generally speaking, his day much improved, and this day was no exception - the message, as he read it from his quarters, was from Roesia, and that in itself was a pleasant surprise. In short order, he had rearranged his armor into a more appropriate, lighter format, meant for the forests and composed of fewer plates than the usual battlefield wear, though its enchantments still remained, and the reactive flexibility of the breastplate was very much intact. He chose to forego his helmet, and instead brought proper leather boots and breeches, decent hunting gear, and of course, his horse, Tempest.\n\nHis dagger remained on his belt as he formed the remainder of the metal that had been his full armor into a javelin-like spike and secured it to the saddlebags. It was time, of course, to go hunting. Two rangers, in this case, would be overkill, and he took advantage of his time to head out on his own, mounting his destrier and casually riding him down to the gates of the city, to find the woman that had sent him the message.*\n\n_ _\n*Prince Astalios himself was a rather sturdily built man in dull gray half-plate armor that didn't make much sound as he moved. It was surprisingly fluid as it encased him in steel protection. He wore a simple crown upon his head made of pure gold, a circlet unbroken, and on his right hand, there was a signet ring of the same pure gold that depicted a warrior with one sword raised above his head, the other in his hand.\n\nHis eyes and hair were brown, and his ears were slightly pointed, owing to his heritage as a half-elf. His jaw and nose were strong and masculine, and his expression was at the very least amused when he sighted Roesia, though quickly, he picked out some sort of confusion or trouble on her face, and his expression quickly shifted into the same, his eyes darting around for some sort of concealed weapons or setup as he felt for the metal around him. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, though that would change if assassination attempts were clearly planned... And it was best to be prepared. \n\nHe stopped a few feet from her, still atop Tempest, and raised a hand in greeting.* \"Miss Vuldrey, excellent to see you. I received your message in the castle. Are you well?\""
},
{
"author": "Roesia Vuldratrada",
"message": "Hearing the familiar voice of her royal companion, Roesia's demeanor shifted almost immediately into a happy one. Smiling brightly and with a genuine look of happiness on her face, Roesia turned and offered a bow to the prince as he approached. \"Good afternoon, your highness. I am well, yes, I was simply wondering if you'd care to join me on a hunting trip yet again. A huntress's job never seems to be done, hm?\" Raising her brow a bit, Roesia scanned over the prince. He looked as dashing and in order as any other time she had seen him. She immediately took note of the lack of entourage following after the prince. Perhaps this was an answer to her request in itself. Forgetting her manners, Roesia quickly added on, \"Have the days been treating you well, your highness?\"\n\nTruth be told, it had been quite some time since the two had last met. Many things around the world had gone on, things Roesia chose to remain oblivious to. When visiting the capital or other cities, she cared not for the gossip of the world she'd pick up in passing. The market was riddled with men and women alike who simply couldn't stop talking of politics and the kingdom, but it fell on deaf ears. Roesia did not wish to hear of the world. She felt safe in her forest, amongst the beasts she both hunted and respected. Nevertheless, she found herself back in civilization to request the company of the very man at the center of much of the gossip. Resting her hand against the railing she had previously been leaning against, Roesia's eyes soon found Astalios's as she read them quietly.\n\nThe prince looked tired but not from stress. His eyes were filled with a constant alertness and determination, something Roesia admired deeply. Astalios was a man of respect and one she did in fact respect greatly. As she had stated once before to him, her opinion remained the same; Prince Astalios would make a fantastic king."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*The quick transition from fear and uncertainty to pleasant happiness was welcomed - though it did seem to be a bit too quick for his liking. Suspicion lingered around the fringes of his consciousness, and he resolved to keep an eye out for any unexpected twists and turns to the excursion. She seemed to be in good health, as always. That scarred over eye was in the same place. Nothing seemed to be an illusion.\n\nSo he proceeded as normal.*\n\n\"I am glad to hear it, Miss Vuldrey, and as I was by happenstance looking to go on a hunting trip after returning from a voyage of my own, I would also enjoy such a hunting trip.\" *He knew bringing his dagger was a good idea, and the spear was always useful in case they met another Richard in the Greenheart, or stumbled past those who wished the prince harm. Not many people in the realm, he thought, disliked him, but foreign spies were always a danger. Especially considering the tense nature of politics at the moment.*\n\n\"The days have been treating me well enough, I suppose. Diplomatic action tires me, but it is a necessary component of life for me, which I dare not neglect.\" *He dismounted from Tempest with a swing of the leg and a soft thud as his leather boots met the cobblestone of the city, taking the reins instead as he deigned to walk and talk with her, as opposed to speaking down like an arrogant god from on high.*\n\n\"How have you fared these last few weeks? Is the forest still lively?\" *He asked, eager to move away from the topic of politics and into the everyday matter of hunting.*"
}
] | 544.5 | 2,130 |
407 | 2022-07-02 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Roesia Vuldratrada",
"message": "\"How.. Fortuitous.\" Roesia giggled a bit as the prince spoke of his desire to hunt. It was indeed, but the way she spoke was a bit like that of a snobby noble. Not to make fun of the prince, but of the diplomats Astalios had likely recently been dealing with. Watching on quietly as the prince dismounted from his magnificent steed, she took up walking alongside him as they headed down into the main city. They'd be at the forest soon enough, but the chance to catch up was a welcome one. The inquiry on Roesia's recent whereabouts was one that gave the huntress pause before she remembered Sevi. \"Oh! I actually had a question for you, now that you ask how 'lively' the forest has been. I ran into a creature I have never seen before in my life, nor one I've ever read about or heard of.\"\n\nAs the two continued along, they soon approached the small stables where Roesia's own horse was tied up at. Retrieving her companion, the prince and huntress continued on, walking comfortably under the cool day's sun. \"Twas all black, from head to toe. Like the night's sky with no stars, save for its glowing red eyes and horns.\" Roesia seemed more than fascinated as she continued. \"The creature could speak, actually. It had basic sentience, it wielded a weapon but it didn't seem to know much of anything. Poor thing didn't even know what an apple was.\" A faint smile of pity washed over Roesia's face before she continued. \"When I asked what it was doing there or what it was, the words it formed weren't proper common at all. All I know is its name was Sevi.\"\n\nTurning the corner of one of the many streets in the capital, Roesia turned her eyes to the prince, fully curious of what such a creature like Sevi could be. \"Ever heard of such a beast?\""
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"Fortuitous is an excellent word to describe it.\" *He concluded, the joke missing him by about a half a mile as he handed her back the silver statue of the stag she had used to gain his ear. His favor, of course, was not a very fickle thing, and so the stags were meant to be reusable once they had gotten to him. A recharge of the enchantment had done the trick.\n\nAs they continued along, their footfalls slowly synchronizing as he led the horse by the reins, he kept an eye out for alleys beside them, so as to make sure that it was not an extended trap, though he very much doubted Roesia would do such a thing. Perhaps there was danger he did not know of, but it was likely that the city would function just fine and leave them alone.*\n\n\"Hello, Angus.\" *He reached for the Clydesdale's nose and gave it a few pets as Roesia retrieved it, and he fell into line alongside Tempest behind them.* \n\nAs she explained about the creature, several beats struck his mind like the strings of a pianoforte, resonating within his memory to produce the music of a history lesson once taken long ago.*\n\n\"A creature matching that description...\" *His brow furrowed as he plucked from the library of his thoughts the correct volume and cracked it open.* \"It would have to be a Scathis, though they are believed to be more mythological than real. You say you saw one in the Greenheart?\" *He asked, concerned that such a thing had appeared in his kingdom.*\n\n\"They are said to be the children of tieflings and aasimar, creatures of mixed destiny and perhaps woeful fate. Neither male nor female, demonic or angelic, mortal or god. Its name was Sevi...\" *He considered, his fingers brushing his chin as he continued to mull it over.* \"Quite an interesting encounter, I would say.\""
},
{
"author": "Roesia Vuldratrada",
"message": "Smiling fondly as the prince greeted her companion in such a friendly way, Roesia listened intently to Astalios's thoughts and answer, but the name 'Scathis' did not wring any bells within the huntresses mind. Furrowing her brow in confusion, the explanation of such a creature did in fact sound like something from a fairy tale. Eyeing Astalios curiosly, it almost seemed as though his information on the beings came from a story his mother told him rather than a factually written book. What was even worse was Roesia had studied her entire youth of the world. She knew a lot more than she had originally let on, and while she hated hiding things from the man she's come to call friend, Roesia simply couldn't risk her parents finding her. Not with her affliction still. It was something she'd never rid herself of, after all.\n\n\"I have never heard of such a thing, your highness. Are they known to be benevolent?\" The slightly concerned look on Astalios's face was one that brought a slight worry to Roesia's own. If Sevi was a dangerous beast, their presence in the Greenheart was unwelcome. Roesia had come to love and care for the forest as it was her home, and has been since she had driven herself from the comfort of the noble home in Findara she was born in. The more the two talked, the closer they neared the edge of the capital where the path into the Greenheart Forest began. Stopping near the gate out of the city, Roesia looked over to Astalios with a slightly worried gaze.\n\n\"Are there any tails of these Scathis causing issues? Being born from an aasimar and tiefling I thought was something that couldn't be done.. If Scathis are as evil as any tail might say I fear they may have it wrong. Sevi was sweet, just ignorant to the world it seemed.\""
}
] | 409 | 1,221 |
510 | 2022-07-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"As much as I would like to be able to give some judgement on them, I believe... Well, that not much is known about them, and what little I know happens to be that they know very little. They are not creatures of inherent evil, I should think, and not of inherent good. They simply *Are*, drifting purposeless through the world. Not many of them can communicate well.\" *He had no further answer in terms of concrete evidence for her, though he wished he might have been able to help. Instead, he simply held the reins of the warhorse he owned and patted him on the nose gently as they led their horses through the market and to the outer gate.*\n\n\"I cannot say, however, that they are *Safe* To be around, either. Neutral can just as often be evil as it can good, and the one may outweigh the other in terms of impact on one's perception of a being. People tend to remember the evil more often.\" *It was evident, perhaps, by the cast of his expression, that he was not solely talking about the Scathis. There were many threats in the world, the possibilities of diplomatic treaties souring and nights of ballroom dancing ending in failure only two of the myriad of options.\n\nIt was true that he had not found a suitable noblewoman to begin courting yet, as well as that he had been on a diplomatic to Lazaroth that had ended with a success which felt in some ways like a defeat - it had been the surrender to politeness and the atmosphere of the room that he had been received in. Perhaps he would get the chance to dictate the terms from sunny Alynthi as well, but there was a danger of pushing it too far. The terms of the agreement would likely be hashed out... But there was nothing to be done until the treaty terms came back and one month had passed.*\n\n\"In any case... Well, it shall be at least a manageable situation here. Scathis are not world-threatening. Just strange.\""
},
{
"author": "Roesia Vuldratrada",
"message": "As the two stopped at the gate and their conversation of Scathis neared its end, Roesia couldn't help but feel dissatisfied with it. Now she wished to find Sevi and learn more, but the creature was likely long, long gone. Roesia would likely never see Sevi again, unless it called the Greenheart home too. The frown on her face said it all, but it was one of a yearning to learn more. With a sigh, she supposed it would have to be left alone for now. There was no more she could do. \"Strange indeed. Sevi was just- yeah. Strange.\" Roesia smiled fondly of her short time with the Scathis creature, but shrugged it off. There was a hunt to be had,, after all. Eyeing the prince, Roesia ran her hand along Angus's cheek. \"If you're up for a challenge, I planned on hunting on the outskirts of the forest.\"\n\nLooking out onto the path into the Greenheart, a slight smile grew on Roesia's lips. \"I doubt I need to tell you of course, but there are vast meadows between here and the Great Chasm, right along the edge of the forest. Not a day ago I witnessed a herd of elk migrating that way. Perhaps we could catch them out in the open.\" Walking to her horse companion's side, Roesia climbed up into his saddle before looking back to Astalios. Leaning onto the horn of Angus's elaborately decorated saddle, perhaps the prince would notice obviously fine and likely expensive craftsmanship of the leather. *After all, the saddle used to belong to her noble father.*\n\n\"Ever hunted an elk, your highness?\" There was a hint of playfulness in Roesia's voice and eyes, almost as if she doubted he ever had. Truth be told, Roesia found it likely, but she still wished to jest with the prince regardless."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"You should regard yourself as somewhat lucky, Miss Vuldrey. You've sighted a rare creature, and might be one of the first to do so in generations. Your name could be inscribed on history if you wished for it to be. A few colleagues of mine might like to read your firsthand account, actually...\" *He frowned to himself, making a mental note to get her recollection of the incident in writing to take back to the Alchemical Association. He might not have known a piece of information, but the Association's libraries were full of scientific logs of various kinds, and considering her experience, perhaps he might sour a few tempers at the next meeting of the association if he left this out.*\n\n\"Would you mind writing down everything you remember about it and sending me a letter of the transcript? I'll have copies made, and then send those to the International Alchemical Association. Clearly, you are not suffering from some sort of illusion, so it's good testimony, and though it's non-verifiable, it corroborates well, I think, with other accounts. With a little luck, we may be able to expand our general knowledge of the creatures further. If you do decide to write one, please leave out no detail - its posture, how it moved, et cetera. All can be extrapolated from with the proper information.\" *He asked, somewhat apologetic to be rambling on about his scientific organization when they were supposed to be out hunting.\n\nAnd speaking of hunting...\n\nShe had mounted her horse. It was time for him to do so as well. He swung a leg over Tempest, his eyes taking the well-crafted saddle on Angus's back for normal after so many years outside of court life and in the field. He supposed this was what people normally had.* \"I believe the herd of elk should be worth a try, Miss Vuldrey. Regrettably...\" *A smile cracked across his face.*\n\n\"I believe you witnessed my first real hunting trip back when we fought those wolves. I have not hunted elk, ever.\""
},
{
"author": "Roesia Vuldratrada",
"message": "As the prince suggested Roesia write a recollection of her time with Sevi there was a look of panic on her face. Stopping Angus in his tracks with a slight sudden jerk, the horse himself seemed surprised at her reaction, and subsequently reacted to her panic through a heavy stomp to the ground. The mention of her name being inscribed in history is what set her off, but for more reason than one. Firstly, Roesia had completely forgotten she had originally gave the prince a false name, that being Roesia *Vuldrey* Instead of her true name 'Vuldratrada'. That of course would not look well for the huntress should she share the truth with him. Her name was quite unique as it was, and while there was a very good chance Astalios had never heard of her family given they were nobles from Findara, others reading her name in a retelling of a Scathis sighting, they'd likely ask questions.\n\nThe second lie was less of a lie and more of a secret; he did not know what she truly was. Roesia never wished to see her parents again, for what would they think of her now? A lowly hunter fending for herself and cursed with Lycanthropy no less. That would mean more would know of her affliction. What if they hunted her down? Or worse, Astalios was forced to do so. No werewolf would go unharmed in his kingdom, whether he believed them to be as vicious as the stories or not. \"No.\" Roesia began firmly, the panicked look in her eyes not seeming to leave, but with a sigh she simply had to remember that this was a prince, not a fellow commoner as she. \"I- I am sorry, your highness. I did not mean to offend. What I meant was I'd prefer if my name was not shared in any retelling of my story of seeing Sevi.\"\n.\n\nNot wishing for Astalios to pry, she continued. \"I also fear for Sevi. What if people read such a retelling and believe them to be a malevolent creature, one that would harm others? Whether I write how kind and naïve Sevi was you know how people are with things they do not understand. Fear always comes first, your highness.\" Hoping he'd fall for yet another one of her redirections, Roesia felt a pit forming in her stomach. These lies and secrets from the prince no less needed to cease. Not only for the safety of herself but Roesia had come to trust and see the prince as a good friend. Friends didn't lie, nor keep secrets such as hers. Closing her eyes tightly, the huntress clicked her tongue to get Angus moving. Their conversation would simply continue on the road to their destination.\n\nRoesia hoped and prayed Astalios would not ask why she was so scared to have her name shared, but he wasn't stupid by any means. Perhaps he'd not mention it out of kindness, but there was still that pit in the ranger's stomach."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*Now, that was truly unusual. There was certainly something she had to hide, then, and some secret that she was keeping about herself. The way she had been startled so suddenly, and the jerk of stopping her horse in his tracks, left Astalios a few paces ahead of her, and he slowed Tempest with a gentle pull of the reins to match pace with her until she caught back up. A frown crossed his face as he surveyed the situation, recalling several facts to mind. \n\nOne, she had seemed nervous while they had met. Originally he had assumed there might be a trap, and perhaps that was still true. She didn't have a good reason to be afraid, given the information she had told him, and while he didn't know much about her, he had been willing to act in good faith until this point. However, the clear fear coming into their reunion was a key that perhaps the status quo had changed.\n\nTwo, she was terrified of their encounter being recorded. She had exhibited such a visceral reaction to the prospect of her name being mentioned in a scientific article that he was beginning to suspect she was a fugitive - though from what or where, he had no idea. It could have been any place with any meaning. Though with fugitives, there was always an inciting incident. What had been the occasion? Where had she come from?\n\nHis eyes traveled up and down her equipment, finally noting the exceptional craftsmanship of the saddle for what it was - far too expensive for a plain commoner or huntswoman. This meant it was either stolen, given as a gift, or... Perhaps, a possession from another life. It seemed old. And a saddle was a strange thing to steal. Perhaps it was a gift, then, or a carryover.*\n\n_ _\n\"I believe, Miss Vuldrey...\" *His voice hardened as his expression shifted into full wariness, eyes darting around her person to check the locations of various weapons. He did not yet turn the spearlike spike on his back to mercury, as they were not in open combat, but was ready to do so. She still had steel arrowheads, and that alone was enough to give him a small edge.*\n\n\"That you might perhaps consider that fear generally comes from the lack of knowledge. Adding to the depth of knowledge on any given subject is always a way to diminish the bad reputation of certain animals - such as spiders, for example. They are quite helpful in reducing mosquito populations. But we have no such depth of knowledge on Scathis.\"\n\n\"And perhaps another example comes to mind - I have no depth of knowledge, I realize, about you. Until this point, I have believed you to be a worthy and honest person, with whom I have had many delightful conversations. But this... Leads me to believe that something is being hidden. You must realize that as a prince, I have many political enemies who would very much like me to venture on a hunting trip and die in mysterious circumstances. Now, I am not accusing you of anything, but... I must know more about why your name must be scrubbed from records. It is doable, Miss Vuldrey, given the right reasons, but I wish to remain... Fully alive.\""
},
{
"author": "Roesia Vuldratrada",
"message": "Roesia's heart began to pound as the expression on Astalios's face shifted. She wanted to run, run far away and go into hiding once more. The cold and snow never bothered her much, perhaps Gantrick? So may thoughts began to race in the poor girl's head up until her eyes met the prince's. How strong, kind and stern they were, now looking at Roesia as if she were a fugitive. In truth, she had done nothing wrong. But she couldn't pull herself to tell the prince her true story. Listening quietly, the huntresses eyes darted away from the prince's for she simply couldn't look him in the eye. Hearing Astalios mention people would wish him harm, the half-elf's eyes widened out of sheer disbelief.\n\n\"No! No Astalios I would never hurt you, I swear.\" Calling out the prince's name wasn't something Roesia had ever done. Far too formal for anyone of her standing. Would she lie again? Hide even more from him? Perhaps if he was too suspicious he'd simply have her brought back to the castle for some form of interrogation. Maybe she'd be placed in a circle of truth. Hearing the prince ask why she fears her name to be publicly shared, Roesia began to panic once more. What could she tell him? Maybe if she just told him the truth that she was simply running from her family and no more he'd believe it. It would save her from sharing about her Lycanthropy, that she had killed four Findaran knights only days after she had first turned... No, she was a fugitive. And a murderer.\n.\n\n\"I-\" Roesia began, but before long a sigh was heaved from her chest as her head hung a but on her shoulders. Running a tense hand through Angus's hair, he could feel her stress and worry, leaving the Clydesdale just as worried as his rider. Calming her companion, Roesia looked back up into the prince's eyes, her own now filled a slightly calmer look. \"I am- not a simple huntress, your highness. My name is Roesia yes, but not Vuldrey. It is Vuldratrada.\" Her true name was one that would link her to a noble family in Findara. One known for their trade in banking and investments. Quite the wealthy family indeed, though it remained to be seen if the prince would know the name. \"I ran away from my family long ago, only to-\" Pausing, Roesia now had to decide; lie again, or tell the truth?\n\n\"I wished to roam the world, my parents disapproved. They have been looking for me since then, which is why I wish to keep my name from any headline or article, scientific or not.\" There was a look of pure defeat in her eyes, one of disappointment. For more reasons than one. She had lied yet again to her friend, and now he knew of her last name. Silence fell between the prince and huntress, and Roesia twiddled with Angus's hair anxiously. How would Astalios take her words? To be true, or to be false?"
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*He kept his eyes fixed on hers, noting the change in expression both times she considered the prospect of wishing him some sort of harm. Surprise, he suspected, and nothing more than that - in which case, she did in fact have a secret, but not a dangerous one to him, at least. She was worried for her own safety, and not that of anyone else's. She was clearly under quite a bit of stress, but that was regrettably a necessity in situations such as these. There were times when one had to put personal inclinations aside and drive at the point until the issue was resolved. They seemed to be on the right track, however.\n\nAs her explanations of her origins unfolded, he kept Tempest steady, and listened with a mind ready to grasp every fleeting detail, match it to what he had known already. It was evident that she had run from her family. That explained the saddle - not stolen, but a keepsake from a past life. Some tragedy had occurred, judging by her pause in the middle. Wished to roam the world. But she said she lived in the Greenheart, which... Well, he supposed the massive forest was a good place to hide out, even if it was not an exotic travel destination.\n\nAfter some deliberation, his concern softened, and he briskly snapped the reins as he faced forwards once again.* \"I see. In that case, Miss Vuldrey, I can leave your name out of any accounts, change the perspective of origin, and not mention anything but the location and the occupation of the finder. You will not have to worry about your family's pursuit of you.\"\n\n*That was final enough, he supposed. She hadn't broken any laws to speak of, simply had a complicated family history. In this day and age, who didn't? But she was willful enough to run away and strong enough to survive in the Greenheart despite her experiences growing up in a noble family. It spoke measures about her character.* \"But if you would humor me, it really is quite important for the Association that I get some anonymous account of it.\""
},
{
"author": "Roesia Vuldratrada",
"message": "The moment the prince turned around, tears began to form in Roesia's face. *Close.* It was entirely too close. Quickly brisking them away and ensuring she kept her composure, the huntress kept up with the prince and stayed at his side. \"I am sorry, your highness. I should have been truthful from the beginning but- I was fearful.\" Disappointment in herself began to swell in Roesia's heart, as she was still lying. Nevertheless, she hoped this would be the last time they'd speak on the matter. Knowing he still wished to have an account of Sevi, Roesia nodded with a faint smile. \"I would never wish to harm the pursuit of science, your grace. I would be happy to give the Association any information they'd need, though yes- I'd prefer my name be left from it.\"\n\nSilence began to fill the air between Roesia and Astalios, as awkward as any silence after a disruption of a good day. The only sound between them as they headed down the path of the Greenheart was the stomping of Angus and Tempest's hooves in the dirt and the ambience of the forest that now surrounded them. The guilt that had swept the typically sweet and outgoing Roesia away seemed to follow over her head like a thunder storm, her conscience in the back of her head screaming at her to be truthful. No more lies. Frowning the thoughts away, around a dozen or so minutes into their trip into the wilderness, Roesia turned to the prince to break the silence once and for all. \"You said you've never hunted elk before. They're magnificent creatures.\"\n\n_ _\n\"I'm sure you've heard legends of the golden harts? As big as a wagon and fiercely protective of their home. I myself have never seen one but I hope to one day.\" A fond smile fell upon Roesia's face as she thought of the mythical beast, then she continued. \"May say they offer boons and luck to those lucky enough to witness them. Almost like a unicorn I suppose.\" Perhaps the change of topic would bring the Astalios that Roesia loved to spend time with back, and perhaps leave their quarrel behind them."
}
] | 445.5 | 4,080 |
445 | 2022-07-04 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"I entirely understand why you would conceal such a secret. I cannot seem to be the most.. Forgiving of people, given the way I dealt with the Agarvarans and... Other problems of note.\" *He spoke quietly but firmly, thinking of solely motivation and action, reconciling this concept of Roesia with the old. It was not too hard to do, he supposed, and she was still the same person regardless. He simply knew more about her now. Did it change how he thought of her? Perhaps. But on the other hand, it wasn't as if she had killed anyone, and disagreements with family, while he preferred to get along with his, were somewhat common among nobility. It was both plausible and explanatory. He could not fault her for following a sense of adventure.*\n\n\"I do not fault you for lying. I wish only that you be perhaps more truthful in the future. If there is information you wish to conceal still, I must ask that you at least provide a reason. But now that is done with, and we shall simply... Enjoy the hunt.\" *He stated with finality, letting the silence fall between them as they traveled along, hooves beating along the path. A picture, like a cloudy reflection in his head, was becoming clearer of who she really was, and he at least could expect more of the same from her if it came. There was no reason a person wouldn't repeat their past actions.*\n\n\"As a matter of fact, I have not. They are magnificent indeed - I have seen antlers taken as prizes in the halls of the castle by my father, but I have not had time to hunt myself. As for the golden harts... Perhaps if we continue, we may see one, though I doubt it. It is better to expect a common outcome with an uncommon twist than an uncommon outcome with a common presentation.\" *He quoted.* \"Herinor likes to remind us all of that particular fact whenever he is finished reading a new medical journal at Association meetings. He has devoted his life to the practice of medicine, and I expect he thinks we should as well.\""
},
{
"author": "Roesia Vuldratrada",
"message": "The many senses of dread had begun to completely wash away as Astalios spoke to Roesia calmly. The change of subject was one that was more than welcome, and while there was still more that Astalios did not know of her, she simply couldn't afford to reveal her deepest secret. The Lycanthropy that drove her from home. She was only a girl at the time, barely 18 years of age. A blink in the eyes of elves, but young nonetheless. Perhaps now that nearly twenty years had passed her parents would believe her dead. Maybe even *They* Were dead and gone... The thought wasn't something Roesia could dwell on long. All she wished was to see her father again, beg for forgiveness at his feet. But there was more she needed forgiveness for- those four Findaran knights, slain at the hands of a beast she never wish had climbed its way inside her.\n\nAs Astalios spoke of elk and golden harts, Roesia had barely caught half of his words. Realizing he was speaking of a member of the Association, she smiled with a light chuckle, the worry in her eyes fading away as a façade took over her expressions. \"A reasonable devotion, I might say. I can't say I've dabbled much in the practice, but I do know very minor healing magic. I've had to learn, given where I live and all. If I had to return to the capital each time I got a bump or bruise, I might as well buy a house there.\" Roesia spoke with a slight huff, shaking her head at herself in the process.\n\n_ _\nThe sun had soon risen over their heads, casting dancing lights onto the two as it did its best to peek down on them through the thick forest canopy. Basking in what little she could, Roesia glanced to Astalios quietly, the thoughts in her head nipping at her like the horse flies that nipped at Angus's hide. She held her tongue regardless, if only to keep her head literally and figuratively. The ride to their destination wouldn't be too terribly long, perhaps and hour or so. Plenty of time to discuss recent events in the world, perhaps have a race or two. Nevertheless, Roesia was happy the worst was hopefully behind them."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*He wondered if she knew too much about the goings-on of the Association, but there was not much to speak of there besides various scientific articles he had quite a lot of interest in, but rather less confidence that she might like to hear them. While Herinor's treatises on the importance of learning medicine from the anatomy of the species outwards were sometimes tedious, it had helped him on multiple occasions in battle. With a knowledge of where each creature's heart was, it was easier to target the points one needed. With a knowledge of lizardlike creatures, specifically, he had managed to do away with the giant lizard on short notice with the use of a judicious application of steel to the brain.\n\nBut how to convey that to the woman that was riding alongside him? Did he start speaking as if he was a scholar, full of terms that she might not have related to, or simply skip the subject entirely? Perhaps there was a middle ground in terms of diction.*\n\n\"Healing magic is a wonderful tool, though I cannot perform it. An absolute necessity for a large army.\" *He noted, head bobbing, expression still impassive. The need for a staff of healers was an old logistical problem in the deployment of armies, and Alynthi had a massive staff of them ready to reclaim as many troops as possible from the brink of death.* \"As a matter of fact, however, his lectures came in handy recently on reptilian anatomy. A Kaladon in the Ghanimara desert recently took only a moment to dispose of. When you recall the placement of lateral skull gaps in similar lizards, it becomes a straight shot to the brain for, say, a steel rod one can fire through building up tension and letting it go.\"\n\n*It was one of his prouder moments, he supposed, and perhaps he was a little too proud of it. It had been a huge beast, enough to threaten even Winrae, and he knew perhaps the little glow of pride was not only his own, but food for the hungry god that lurked inside his mind.*"
}
] | 432 | 1,335 |
251.333333 | 2021-12-18 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Arcturus Longwood",
"message": "*Arcturus would approach the Temple of the Gods, stopping for a moment outside to take in its beauty. Every day almost instinctively at 3 in the afternoon Arcturus would make his way to the Temple for prayer. He found this constant cycle was good for his spirits, and as such he would continue it today. Entering the temple, he would walk to the shrine, his sword at his side swinging with the movement of his body. Arriving at the shrine to his patron Karama, he would remove his sword and set it off to his side, kneeling down and removing his helmet. The Aasimar would begin his daily prayer, focusing on the shrine as he relaxed.*"
},
{
"author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen",
"message": "To say the last few days were eventful would be.. A definite understatement. She had most likely gotten on the bad side of Prince Astalios's bad side and made an enemy of her sister all in one day. Right now, she needed some sort of guidance, and the best place to do that was the Temple of the Gods in Alynthi's Capital city. Entering the massive doors, the paladin Winrae sauntered her way over to where her patron goddesses shrine, Kamara, was at. It definitely wasn't strange to see other people in front of the Goddess of Justice's shrine, especially not a fellow aasimar, but the sight warmed Winrae's heart nonetheless.\n\nRather than disturb him, Winrae stayed back a few feet and dropped to a single knee just as the male in front of her did. Her greatsword stayed on her back, and she too entered a state of prayer. Winrae's large and golden armor jostled and clanged every so quietly, making her presence known to the man in front of her. Being a paladin of Kamara, she couldn't help but smile seeing a fellow worshipper of her patron god doing the same as she was."
},
{
"author": "Arcturus Longwood",
"message": "*Arcturus would finish his first prayer, the last of the verse leaving him in a quiet whisper as to not disturb others in the temple. Even though he was relaxed, he was still alert to his surroundings. Being a knight wasn't also a popular position, especially as a Warden of the Shield Guardians. Not turning his head to face the other individual as he knew anonymity was something some people preferred in times of need, he'd simply speak up addressing the warrior behind him.*\n\"Have you also come in need of guidance from Kamara?\""
},
{
"author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen",
"message": "\"Yes, in fact.\" Winrae let out a gentle sigh, slightly surprised he had spoke up to her presence. Finishing her own prayer, she raised her head and glanced over to him, taking note of the fact he had yet to turn around. The paladin soon became unsure if she should divulge her issues to a stranger, though she supposed she could make her words a bit more devoid of exact issues and give her problems a bit of anonymity. Winrae closed her eyes for a long moment before finally voicing her issues to the fellow aasimar, \"Lately I've been struggling with anger besting my better judgement. With a station such as mine, I cannot afford such slip ups.\"\n\nWinrae's voice may have been recognizeable to the knight, given she was a royal guard, paladin and fellow aasimar. She was known as the Winged Stag, Kamara's Chosen; those titles were earned through hard work and dedication to the Goddess of Justice and the Kingdom of Alynthi, not to be taken lightly in the slightest. If the knight didn't know her voice, it'd sound extremely proud, even in such a defeated tone as she had in the moment."
},
{
"author": "Arcturus Longwood",
"message": "*Arcturus would listen intently as the stranger spoke, taking note of the voice of this individual. From the start he could tell this was someone he knew. Maybe not personally, but he had seen them, perhaps even heard them spoke. From the clattering of armor he heard earlier, he knew it was a warrior, perhaps one of the guards of the Capital. As she spoke he'd take note of the word choice she provided, especially the final part. Perhaps she was a Commander or a Royal Guard then. Not many would speak in that manner. He knew he'd be able to place who this was if he just turned around, but he decided that she deserved the respect of Anonymity and the choice to reveal her identity in a place like this. He'd think on what she had said for a moment longer before responding calmly.*\n\"Anger is a strong cloud of judgement. I know I personally have encountered that feeling many times before. I find peace in knowing though, that Kamara is guiding me through those times, as I'm sure she is for you as well.\""
},
{
"author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen",
"message": "The mention of Kamara caused a slight hitch in Winrae's breathing. She wasn't crying nor on the verge of doing so, but the mention of her patron Goddess left a considerable pang in her heart. For a long while, *Kamara was silent.* How could Winrae carry the title of 'Kamara's Chosen' if the patron Goddess had been silent to her chosen individual. A Goddess of her stature surely had plenty to worry about, but a god's reach is never-ending, or she she and everyone else believed. Had she done something to wrong the Goddess? These are the thoughts that plagued her the most, but she refused to share that Kamara had not reached out or simply touched Winrae to let the paladin know she was watching in weeks. Perhaps this is why she had been so angry as of late.\n\n\"I'm not so sure of your words, brother.\" Winrae slowly stood, her armor clanking a bit before she finally walked up beside her fellow aasimar. Staring up at the shrine of Kamara, Winrae's glowing yellow eyes seemed dimmer than usual. If the knight did recognize her voice, he'd surely recognize her fiery red hair. Winrae's eyes seemed cast down a bit toward the base of the shrine, her voice a bit more defeated than it was before. \"I can't tell if she's testing me or forgetting me. Even saying such a thing makes me feel as though I'm offending her. Shouldn't I be able to tell the difference?\""
},
{
"author": "Arcturus Longwood",
"message": "*Arcturus' head would turn as the Aasimar made her identity known. Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen. The Knight had seen her many occasions before, but never had a true interaction with her. While surprising, he found it fitting that two Aasimars would encounter each other in front of her shrine. He would rise to meet her, grabbing his sword and reattaching to his hip, and picking up his helmet, holding it under his left arm. He'd turn his head towards her, his gold eyes glowing with the optimism he normally has about him.*\n\n\"I am a mere knight, not a prophet nor a god, but if I may. I believe every day is a test. A test to our will, our resolve, and our judgement. No matter who you are, she judges us equally on the weight of our actions, and what we believe is right. None of us know, or can know what she is planning, nor when she decides to make an appearance in our minds or actions. What I truly believe though, is that she has not given up on us. Especially a person of your stature. Even with that stature though, please do not feel down on yourself for not knowing the future. We are not gods, we can only have faith.\" *He'd finish his thoughts with the hope he had helped in someway. His words may mean nothing to this person, especially because of his rank in society in comparison, but he hoped that they would help them through their time of difficulty.*"
},
{
"author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen",
"message": "Winrae listened attentively to the knight's words, but they still didn't seem to crack the doubts that plagued her mind. She did cast her gaze away from the shrine over to the figure next to her and offered a slightly concerned look. Winrae was still unsure about it all, but she simply had to ask, \"Do you ever feel her? In your heart, your mind, your soul?\" Winrae allowed her gaze to climb back up to the shrine once more, and soon she found her feet moving to walk around it as she studied it. Placing her armored arm behind her back and clasping her hands together, she began to slow walk around the shrine of Kamara as she continued to speak.\n\n\"I used to feel her each and every time I'd pray to her. A warmth in my heart and mind. Even if she's never directly spoken a word to me, she's empowered me each and every day to continue to do what I've been doing since I was knighted as paladin of Kamara; fight off evil and those who would dare cross the laws the kingdom of Alynthi has laid down for its people and anyone who set foot in its borders.\" Now around the backside of the shrine, Winrae would be out of view for only a second before she came around the other side, continuing, \"Each time I put down an evil being or a lawbreaker, I felt her. The swell of pride for a job well done. For doing what it is she created you and I to do.\"\n\nStopping now on the other side of the knight. Her yellow glowing eyes soon fell onto the knight's golden hues. A frown was on her face, but she then asked. \"I've continued to do those very same things. Yet I haven't felt her presence for nearly a month's time. I don't wish to doubt your optimism or Kamara for that matter but- why have the title 'Kamara's Chosen' if she's all but left me..?\""
},
{
"author": "Arcturus Longwood",
"message": "*Arcturus would listen intently as the Chosen spoke, watching as she walked around the shrine. Upon asking him that question, he immediately pondered it. Unlike her, Kamara's presence was a rarer occurrence, normally appearing to him in his times of need. He wasn't her Chosen though, which is why he never thought more of it. Perhaps he had more to prove, or he hadn't discovered his true purpose yet. Millions of ideas and thoughts appeared, ones he could ponder for years to come. He pushed them aside though, staying in the moment for the time being.*\n\n*He'd meet her gaze, straightening his posture slightly, realizing he wasn't standing fully straight up. Nervous habit perhaps to slouch.*\n\"Perhaps you don't feel her anymore because you don't need to. You are her chosen. This may be a test to see how you respond on your own, or she has entrusted you with this responsibility, and felt she no longer needs to directly supervise you. While I am not her, and I do not know your daily activities, I do believe that this in some form is true.\""
}
] | 250 | 2,262 |
187.5 | 2021-12-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen",
"message": "\"Perhaps you're right.\" Winrae sighed, her romp around Kamara's shrine finally done and over with. Her entire demeanor looked defeated, deflated, even *With* All the armor she had on and with her towering height to boot. That frown remained on her face all the while as silence seemed to fall over the two. Winrae glanced over to the other aasimar and finally extended a hand his way. \"Thank you for offering a stranger some guidance and insight into your own experiences with Kamara. I am Winrae Kaliyah, a royal guard here in Alynthi.\" Her hand was gauntleted just like his was, another thing the two aasimar seemed to have in common. \n\nWinrae tensed her wings a bit, which were massive and folded up behind her back. She was honestly pretty wore out, given she had flown so much today, not to mention the back to back usage of wayshrines to and from Alynthi to Khisfire. She never did get a chance to speak with the prince, as he was pulled away for other matters. She'd have to discuss the earlier events with him some time that day or tomorrow. Winrae simply couldn't leave it how they did when they were in the desert with Essme and Kameros. Winrae definitely looked tired and a bit troubled, but offered a smile nonetheless as she offered her hand to shake."
},
{
"author": "Arcturus Longwood",
"message": "*Arcturus would watch as she returned from her loop, viewing the exhaustion she was facing. It was clear it has been a long day for her and she was no doubt still troubled. He would return the offer and extend his hand, giving her a firm handshake in return and introducing himself.* \"Arcturus Longwood, Knight of Alynthi and Warden of the Shield Guardians. Thank you for joining me for my daily prayer, it has definitely made it much more interesting then normal days.\" *He'd say returning the smile, the golden hues of his eyes reflecting his attitude on their time together.*\n\n*He'd release his hand and return it to his side, freeing her of the connection with him. He'd return his hand to his sword's hilt, where it typically lived as he walked. Was it an aggressive position to be at, perhaps but he had learned in his years it was better to be prepared than to be caught offguard. Finally, he would say with a calmness and kindness in his voice.* \"Well, I am sure Kamara's Chosen has business elsewhere, and I must return to my patrol. Thank you again for your time.\""
},
{
"author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen",
"message": "\"It was nice to talk with you Arcturus. Next time we meet perhaps we'll have to spar, I haven't fought a fellow aasimar in a long, long time.\" Winrae offered a smile as their hands finally parted. Hearing his comment about her being needed elsewhere caused her to chuckle ever so slightly, nodding to his words. \"Yeah.. You're probably more right than I'd like to admit. Another time then.\" Winrae gave Arcturus a firm nod before making her way towards the doors of the temple, placing her helmet on her head as she did so. After she was outside, with a single hard flap of her wings she was up into the air, and off toward the Alynthi castle."
},
{
"author": "Arcturus Longwood",
"message": "*Arcturus would watch as the Chosen left the temple. Grinning to himself, he'd have to take her up on that offer sometime. He'd place his helmet on his head and walk out, heading back towards the inner ring of the Capital to continue his duties.*"
}
] | 197.5 | 750 |
667.5 | 2024-02-22 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Doctor Henryk",
"message": "**Alynthi, The Temple of the Gods.**\n\n**Doctor Henryk had been to Alynthi and its capital plenty of times. Findara and Alynthi had been close allies, and soldiers he once served with would reach out to him in order to treat them and their families. The most distinct memory he had of Varilon was waking up in the barracks after having an arrow pierce his chest in the heat of battle.**\n\n**He was no warrior— He was a healer. However, despite that, high praises were sung for him. The combat medic who'd perform miracles in the heat of battle. Although it sounded glamorous, and almost heroic, the price which he paid hadn't been worth it. The nightmares. The phantom pains which lingered along his body— It took him months to fully recover from the war he participated in.**\n\n**And he was only 20 at the time. Now he was 23, and fighting a new sort of battle. One between a man, and a devil.**\n\n**This was the first time he set foot in this temple— he was never a man of deep religious ties. No, he was a man of logic and pragmatism. He believed for a long time the Gods had been uncaring, that they left mortals to their own bidding, rarely intervening.**\n\n**He was proven wrong recently, as he experienced divine intervention of the most malevolent kind. He bore witness to the God of Devils, the Great Horned One, Ulmos. Worse, he was _claimed_ by him. He was still confused what it meant, and today he sought answers.**\n\n**There was more, the discovery of the Philosopher's Stone. A stone which had been divine illumination conceptualized, made tangible to mortals. It had been made once, by an Alchemist, and he had found proof in a journal that it was real— that at one point, it existed, and could be created.**\n\n**However no formula was inscribed. Only to find enlightenment to be granted divine illumination.**\n\n**Thus naturally, with the events that have all transpired... Now, more then ever, he looked for enlightenment. What was his purpose in life? Who was he truly?**\n\n**The Doctor sat in one of the church pews, knees placed upon the cushioning as he stared up at the statue of the Mother Goddess. Today, Henryk was adorned in a black coat, with black slacks. Black leather gloves laced his hands, as gold was imbedded at the knuckles. The man's raven hair would be brushed back, as his steely blue eyes looked to the divine for answers.**\n\n\"...O' great pantheon... Answer my prayers...\"\n\n**His words hung, lingering.**\n\n\"Why have you accursed me?\""
},
{
"author": "savvy.exe",
"message": "*Nothing is more marvelous to anyone of faith, than a temple dedicated to the deities ruling the land below, in full stature of its worship. Alyera had never witnessed any worship at this level of grandiosity. Sure, the House of Elk had its festivities, but nothing so permanent as this structure she found herself in. She had already spent hours here, taking in the breathtaking atmosphere surrounding her.*\n\n*Prayer, however, was all the more familiar to her. The wood-elven woman had dedicated her time to meditation as of late, attempting to find some direction since her leaving the House and Greenheart. What a change, and although she was a woman of faith, Aylera couldn't help but feel out of place in this temple. So, she did what she did best. She sat before the altar for her goddess and prayed. Pledging herself to the Mother yet again, asking for her wisdom, her guidance, anything. Sitting in contemplation for a long while, she hadn't noticed any others who shared this devotional space with her.*\n\n*All too engrossed in her own feelings, the paladin stood, with one last flick of prayer, and turned to the pews. It felt as if everything echoed in this place, its high ceilings reverberating hums of divinity itself. With a breath, the woman found her own place among the pews. Her eyes couldn't help but distractedly flicker toward the man sitting nearby. She was unfamiliar with his attire, but in that case, she was unfamiliar with everything. Curiosity struck a chord within her, but now was not really the time for that- was it? His words were intriguing- she couldn't have helped but heard them.*\n.\n\n*It felt now that every step she took to find her place disturbed the place's peace. Her earrings jingled softly as she found a place off to the left of the strange man. Whatever his business- it wasn't hers after all. With that, she sat, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged. Murmuring a soft incantation in elvish, she began to unravel the largest of the intricate braids atop her head.*\n\n*The elvish dialect of hers slipped through her lips easily, she needed no thought to recant her knowledge of tradition. The braids were devotional, a personal indication of one's faith. Afternoon light filtered in through the windows, illuminating the soft swaths of smoke from incense, glinting off of the altars and refracting in the ceiling. In the braiding, one opened their heart to the goddess and allowed themselves to slip into a meditative state. Keeping the hands busy assisted with this, especially with distraction. Still, the woman couldn't help but find her mind drifting, which was mildly frustrating. To combat this, she kept her hazel eyes fixed ahead at the altar, surveying its intricacies in time with the rhythmic motion of her fingers and words.*"
},
{
"author": "Doctor Henryk",
"message": "**He sat there in silence.**\n\n**Silence, the sound of which responded to his prayer. His question to the divine would be met with the ambient sound of the mutterings of other temple goers. People who prayed, people are more devoted then he was, who paid tribute to the Gods. The reason he hadn't prayed was for this reason— no godly being would answer him. He was half the mind to accepting this was a futile effort, walking into a temple, expecting one of the Pantheon to address him. He sensed none would be willing to grant him sanctuary after having been claimed by the Dark God. Yet, the other half would tell him to be patient. Why should he be granted audience when he spent his whole life rejecting faith? He was a man who believed destiny should be seized by ones own two hands, not guided by a theological beings.**\n\n**Then he pondered— what if, the point of prayer, was not to appease the Gods, nor ask of anything from them. Instead, what if prayer was simply a form of meditation? A way to find one's self?**\n\n**So many questions, so many reasons yet he couldn't dictate what that answer was. He would accept his ignorance, and seek guidance— this was not a road easily travelled. If he wishes to find divine illumination, then perhaps it was best to accept help from another.**\n\n**His ears perked to the elvish prayer which escaped the woman's lips to his left. He was keenly familiar with elven dialect, as his mentor was an elf himself, and plenty of his patients were of elven descent to some variety. In a way, she seemed one with the temple, she fit right in, a priestess of some sorts. Someone who he sensed could assist him in this hour.**\n\n**So when she sat, The Half-Human's pale blue eyes would look to her, his head slightly turned as he observed her more closely. She carried this reserved beauty in the way she dressed. Formal, conserved, and of course traditional. Yet Henryk saw past that— he didn't observe her for one's natural beauty, no, his eyes had been scalpels attempting to dissect the woman in front of him. He was always analyzing, always thinking— plotting his next move— finding new and creative ways to push his ambitions. Not typically one for conversation, he was initially reluctant, but then would finally speak with his well-articulated voice, only speaking what he wishes to say.**\n\n\"Excuse me.\" **He would speak, attempting to address the woman, who he could only assume to be a priestess— or at least incredibly devoted to religion.** \"...I hope I am not disturbing you. I simply have questions I wish to be answered.\" **The Doctor spoke thus. When and if she looked to the Half-Human, she would be able to observe his paler complexion. His cheeks gaunt, sunken in slightly, with these shadows underneath his eyes. He seemed slightly underweight, not a individual who was completely filled out. Though, the most notable thing were his eyes— the windows to the soul. His irises were a steely blue, pale, akin to the bitter cold winter. A blizzard captured within his gaze. They were dull— the atmosphere around him felt haunted, as though a darkness surrounded him. When one would gaze upon Henryk, he seemed to fit the setting of a morgue more than he did a temple— a place where the Gods are revered and celebrated.**\n\n**So why was it this man, a gentleman who undoubtedly looked suspicious, be here?**\n\n\"...If I may ask, why is it you pray?\" **A simple question. He wanted to see for what rhyme or reason another, more devote individual who turn to prayer. He knew different individuals prayed for different reasons, but, he hoped to hear a more enlightening reasoning.**\n\n**Henryk could _only_ hope.**"
},
{
"author": "savvy.exe",
"message": "*Hazel eyes flicked up at the man's introduction. Caught amid the sunbeam, they refracted the light within them, a complex mixture of green surrounding an amber and brown ring around her pupils. They were narrowed- not just due to the light, but with suspicion as well. Aylera surveyed him carefully, lips pursed slightly as she listened, allowing her deep chestnut hair to gently fall to frame her face. The main braid undone had released several others to slide down gently, showing the sheer length of it all reaching down to her hips at the longest. Small adornments in them glittered in the light, reflecting off of the man's gaunt face. He looked ill- either in body or mind, but there was no way for her to know which.*\n\n*Silent until he finished, she maintained eye contact throughout his question, only glancing toward the altar of the Mother as he finished. He asked quite the question, but somehow it didn't feel surprising. This stranger seemed nothing near godly- judging by his expression. Although cold, something told Aylera that he was nothing to be intimidated by, at least not here. Something plagued him, that much was clear. His question did, however, invigorate a soft chuckle out of her. Resting her hands in her lap, she responded in a smooth tone, intrigue taking over the air of mystery.*\n\n\"My my, that is quite the question, sir. I do believe I would take much of the day if you wished me to explain it all.\"\n\n*Taking a breath, readying her words, Aylera turned to face him fully. A conversation such as this requires the respect of devotion.*\n.\n\n\"To answer this mountain of a question simply, I will say this: It is through devotion that I have come to a very large decision. I do not believe I would have the strength to persist without it.\"\n\n*Pausing before continuing, her eyes fell on the statue again, taking in the Mother's gaze. As she spoke again, her eyes returned to the winter hiding behind the man's own irises.*\n\n\"I do believe she listens, and it heals my soul of its wounds. I hear her in nature and feel her presence among its many creatures. I mean no disrespect sir, but I feel as if you have your own wounds that have yet to begin to heal.\"\n\n*Shifting in her seat, the wood-elven woman gently moved a bundle of small braids behind her shoulder, their adornment of leather wraps and rings of silver dangling with small crystals softly clicking as they moved. Aylera looked him up and down, analyzing him further. A smile lightly touched her lips as her eyes probed at his figure before her.*\n\n\"A question for you, now. What begs forth your inquiry? If you are looking for a sage of true wisdom, I am afraid you're speaking to the wrong individual, but I will happily engage with you over my faith. It is not often one asks 'why' over a subject such as this. I find it a rare opportunity for conversation, no?\""
},
{
"author": "Doctor Henryk",
"message": "**Henryk listened, and listened well he did. It wasn't an answer he wasn't looking to hear— especially in light of recent events. His perception has been changed on how deities operated changed, ever since one addressed him personally. However her perception of him wasn't far from the truth— he was someone with wounds that needed to be healed, but, he didn't think they could, nor would.**\n\n**If a God does listen, and does heal, does that mean a God can harm too? Are the other deities simply bearing witness to Henryk's struggles, are the deaf to his plight, or do they not care? Does the only deity who cares to listen happen to be the most reviled one of them all?**\n\n\"Something like that.\" **Henryk confessed, before looking away from her, and to the statue of the Mother Goddess. He would speak freely, as he sensed he would not be judged in this moment.** \"I'm at a point of introspection. I'm questioning the very reality of my life up until this point.\" **Henryk would say. The visuals of the grand statue slowly becoming blurred to his vision, as his eyes had became more and more out of focus. The scenery mixing and melding in his eyes as he spoke.**\n\n\"I've never been a man of faith. For the longest time, I felt as though the deities had been uncaring Gods. Why should a God care for the fleeting life of a mortal? Our life lasts but a second to them— a grain of sand in an hourglass. I believed this for a long time now. I have seen bodies in troves, oceans of blood, witnessed husbands, wives, and children weep at the passing of a loved one. I also have witnessed miracles— the birth of life. We come...\" **He'd then blow air from his mouth.** \"...And we go, like a candlelight.\" \n\n**A pause, as his eyes would focus again, his head slightly turning back to the woman.** \"Recently, that has changed. My perception of the world has changed, and I am no longer certain of myself.\" **He would draw breath through his nostrils, before releasing a heavy sigh.** \"I do not know if what I witnessed was the divine, or the demons of my mind manifesting at a crucial point of my life. Whether it is one or the other, I seek the same thing regardless. To centre myself once again.\" \n\n**He would straighten his back out, hands gripping the top of his thighs, gloved fingers curling and digging into them.** \"Yes. Lets engage in a dialogue.\" **He would respond to her sentiment in kind.** \"I am Doctor Henryk. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.\"\n\n**He would bow his head in slight curtsey, before raising it again.** \"And you?\" **He asked for her name, as it was polite to do so.**"
},
{
"author": "savvy.exe",
"message": "*The man's mention of introspection almost made Aylera chuckle at how much she felt similarly. She'd just uprooted her entire life and decided to wander far beyond the only place she was meant to serve. The Mother had given her the idea- how curious he too turns to understand religion after a massive change in fate.*\n\n*Patiently observing the man, Aylera focused her attention on his expression. As he spoke, the contortions of his face made sense. She was no expert in the subject, but she was taught some time ago to follow the motions of the face to better understand the motives of each phrase. Her mentor- her old friend was right. Henrick's eyes gave way to his pain. It was a familiar sight, she'd seen it in her friend before, and a pang of empathy rang through her.*\n\n*Perhaps it was her association of his behavior with Varis-* ***That*** *Varis. Waves of feelings hit her and subsided just as quickly. Perhaps it was divine intervention that she had met Doctor Henryk- maybe there was something she could do to help- if only to try to understand his plight. As he spoke, she listened carefully and found herself all the more correct. She couldn't help but feel for him. Her eyes softened, and she smiled gently as she reciprocated his bow.*\n\n\"It is a pleasure indeed. I am Aylera Mialar of the- ah- well, formerly of The House of Elk.\"\n\n*She paused with a slight snicker before continuing. Oh, how similar strangers could be. Lifting her hands, she gestured as she spoke.*\n\n\"The world is wide, Doctor Henryk. I may not know what you have been through, but I assure you that you are not alone in what you feel. I speak for myself and an old friend of mine.\"\n\n*Looking up, Aylera's lips twitched with the familiar pang of longing. Longing for a guide, or just some semblance of a path. The arches of the temple were filled with sunbeams, illuminating the artistry of architecture and design above. Her eyes lingered there as she spoke as if entranced by it.*\n.\n\n\"I too question why I have fallen into a pathless route. Many things contributed, but my final sendoff from the House was, well, lackluster in joy. I know very little else. The forest was where I was meant to serve, yet the Mother calls me out beyond its borders. I know nothing else, not what to do, nor where to go. It would be pitifully lonely without my faith. My friend knows of your struggle with worship, and I know more than anyone that he is quite the man underneath his existential struggle.\"\n\n*Mentioning Varis wasn't a lighthearted thing to do. She'd barely even let herself think of him up to this point. He had let her down dreadfully, yet she loved him as a brother much the same. Aylera wondered if Doctor Henryk had someone who felt that way about him. She returned her gaze to him before glancing back to the altar.*\n\n\"From the sound of it, the two of you are quite similar in the way you think of these things. I must slightly disagree with how you phrase it though- I do not believe there is anything less divine that the supposed 'demons' in your mind. Why, I would like to argue that it is those that set you on a journey to find yourself, look at where you are. I do not believe people are called to the divine without purpose, regardless of their spirituality. One mustn't be a monk to find benefit and beauty in religion.\""
}
] | 620.5 | 4,005 |
675 | 2024-02-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Doctor Henryk",
"message": "**The Doctor nodded his head along as he listened to what wisdom she had to offer him. He couldn't help but let out a low husky chuckle escape his lips. Divine demons? If what he experienced truly was an act of divine intervention, then his demons were most certainly of a divine sorts. There was truth minced into her words though— that without the presence of Ulmos in his life, he wouldn't have begun this route. No, he'd be complacent with life. He would be satisfied being Vierna's husband, and simply being a doctor in Syvathere. It was Ulmos, and the presence of Atticus Xelnore, that have set Henryk onto this path— one of blackened divine. He would never venture into the darkness in order to discover his _soul_. To understand its shapes, its grooves, to become more aware of who he was.**\n\n**Then, slowly, it began to hit him. To find himself, he must leave this place of complacency he found himself in. He recalled his encounter with the courier, Ethan, about discovering his Magnum Opus. He must reorganize his life, to _\"Put things on a different shelf.\"_ The Half-Human was still young, ignorant of many things. Today, he found himself in a temple, where normally he'd scoff at the idea of being in such a place. What more would he do in order to become more intimate with one's soul?**\n\n**He'd think upon the books Atticus Xelnore donated to him— Mage Hand experimentations, buried and lost to time... He would work to understand magic to a different level. He will be curious, and he will strive for something more than above average. He'd strive for greatness.**\n\n**Aylera would visibly see light entering Henryk's eyes, as he seemed to have a moment of clarity— an epiphany. The Doctor would curl a slight smile, as his curled fingers eased from his thighs.** \"...You don't know how much I needed to hear that, Aylera.\" **He would crane his face upwards, letting the sun kiss upon his face as it passed the stained glass which lined the ceiling. He felt its radiance upon him— perhaps the divine _do_ answer, in the form of a red string of fate that allows people to cross paths.**\n\n**He lowered his head a bit, before looking to her yet again with a more relaxed expression now.** \"I want to learn more about theology. If you're willing to enlighten me.\" **He'd ask the She-Elf.**\n\n\"Now that you've left the 'House', what sort of journey have you embarked on thus far? Have you found illumination on your journey yet?\" **Yet another simple, yet loaded question. Henryk was good at keeping his words contained. Only intending to say what he wished without over elaborating.** \n\n**So he sat there, curious of Aylera. He would begin to stand, stretching his legs.** \"Lets walk and talk. I find movement helps pace my thoughts.\""
},
{
"author": "savvy.exe",
"message": "*Happy to have been of some assistance, Aylera returned Henryk's smile and dipped her head respectfully. She was grateful to be of any use, it felt as if she had a purpose now, even if it was only temporary in nature. The changes in his face spoke for him, as hers did for herself. She was more than happy to share her knowledge- although she had a feeling he would have to continue his journey just the same as her to obtain a more worldly view.*\n\n\"Why, of course. It would gladden me to share my faith with you, Doctor Henryk. A proverb once spoke, 'In the movement of the body, one may begin to move the mind'.\" \n\n*The elven woman stood with him, she hadn't been so sedentary for a long time. Her days spent in meditation were a lovely thing for her exhausted muscles, but they had begun to feel a hint of stiffness. She left her explanation for their walk together, as it was quite the topic they approached. Doctor in toe, they made their way to the entrance of the temple. There was a path nearby that was carved through the greenery of the exterior. Aylera had walked it earlier in the day, but it should be much lovelier now that the sun has warmed the earth.*\n\n\"My journey is much the same as yours, looking for a more vast understanding of the world, of divinity. Although I must admit, my wandering has yet to take me very far from my homeland. So, do be wise to mind my own possible biases, as I am sure they are plentiful in the face of an entire world's worth of thought.\"\n\n*As they moved, Aylera took up her gear from a small alcove in the structure. It was well-known that taking weapons into a place of worship was riddled with disrespect. Her spear made an excellent walking stick anyway, its tip covered with a leather cap, bound with intricate stitching. Slinging her bow over her shoulder, she spoke again, casually taking Henryk down the path.*\n\n\"Do pardon my things, I am a bit of a wanderer, and one must be prepared.\"\n.\n\n*The path was indeed lovely at this time of day, from the view of the stained glass to the surrounding greenery. The hum of afternoon springtime life filled the air, along with the quiet contemplation of others on scattered benches throughout the exterior area.*\n\n\"I happen to have been raised under faith. I am sure you have heard stories of The House of Elk, although perhaps they are more mysterious than I am aware of. Regardless, my knowledge of theology stems from their teachings. Do you wish for a historical overview of the deities I know of, or would you rather continue on this personal note of mine? I am afraid I may bore you if things get too personal, it is not the happiest of tales.\"\n\n*Catching a glimpse at the man beside her, the color of his eyes seemed to stand out even more against the light. Their icy coloration was lighter even than the sky, which seemed a deep, rich cerulean in their wake. His pale skin too, was another point of difference. Was he born so pale? Or was it due to a lack of sun exposure? Or perhaps it was due to his lack of well-being? Truth be told, she had yet to come into contact with a human-like person. Their variation in appearance was quite an interesting contrast to the wood elves she had been raised with, all the more reason to continue her explorations.*\n\n*Aylera felt no preference for the direction the discussion took, she enjoyed it all the same. However, having mentioned Varis earlier left a distinct taste in her mouth- though she couldn't quite get a feel for what it was exactly.*"
},
{
"author": "Doctor Henryk",
"message": "**The sun kissed his skin. It had felt nice to be in the light, the radiance washing over him. For the moment, with some clarity now in mind, he felt more attuned with everything which surrounded him. The passing of the wind tickling against his body, the ambient sound of the temple's nature, along with people of various walks of life busily moving in and out of the location. He took a moment to take the world in— to allow himself to mix and meld into the environment and become engrossed by it. To admire life and what it had to offer, and to be unbothered by the demons which haunt him— something he desired to practice in order to untether himself from his mortal worries. A practice which would take time to become accustomed too. He shouldn't be impatient— he should rush the process. Life itself had been a journey with no true end, and perhaps he simply needed to slow down.**\n\n**He walked the green path with Alyera once he become focused once more, footsteps trailing behind her as he guided her through the area.** \"I've read about the divine time and time again. However words and descriptions can only grant so much insight— I wish to hear yours. Whether or not it is a happy tale, I am use to life's woes. My occupation is to heal and rehabilitate those who cannot do so themselves.\" **He'd remind the She-Elf, having listened in on his fair share of tragedies.**\n\n\"When I was being mentored, the man who taught me would go to symposiums with me where he and other scholars would argue and debate about various subject matters— sharing their thoughts and opinions. It was there where I learned that hearing the insight and critiques of others granted an elevated view. If you are rigid in your view, and unwilling to accept new ideas, then you are destined to stagnate.\" **Henryk would explain to Alyera.** \"I've taken that lesson and applied to my study in Medical Arcana. Learning both Traditional and Modern medicine in order to elevate my understanding of Alchemy.\" **He paused in order to look at the some leaves which blossomed upon a tree branch.** \"Now... I want to elevate my understanding of myself, and the world— something which you've already expressed a sentiment towards.\" \n\n**His eyes would meet with her figure as the pair stopped in their trek, standing among nature. Here, some snow remained but slowly melted away, as everything was so _green._ Soon, this green canvas would be painted with colour by the time summer arrived in the months coming.**\n\n\"Tell me your view, Aylera. Lets have a mock symposium of our own. Let nature be our audience as we discuss...\" **He would grant her a small smile, something to welcome her to express her personal thoughts and beliefs. This was what Henryk was here for, after all. A different perspective.**\n\n**What were these personal notes of yours, Aylera?**"
}
] | 636 | 2,025 |
720.25 | 2023-01-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "The quiet of the forest had allowed Minnah's thoughts to drift, far away from the concerns that usually plagued her mind, to more pleasant topics. As she absently worked on a tree branch laying on the ground, she thought about her mother, about the changing of the seasons, about the little creature on her shoulder, everything and nothing, really. It was rare for her to not focus on her worries for a moment, and while it might not be a big deal to many people, she really appreciated times like these. \n\nOf course, being as lost in thought as she was, she didn't notice someone else appearing for quite some time. It didn't help that the hood of her cloak was both doing a great job of hiding her face, but also limiting her field of vision, giving her even less chance to see the other. Only Azeria seemed to notice something, and the fox nimbly jumped down from her shoulder, watching the newcomer from her new position on the ground. Minnah winced slightly at the sudden change of pressure on her shoulder, but paid what Azeria was doing no mind. After all, the fox kind of just did whatever she wanted to do, and Minnah had learned that most of it didn't matter to her.\n\nTo say that she was spooked from the sudden vocalisation of the other person would be an understatement. The poor woman practically jumped out of her skin, her paintbrush falling to the ground as she spun around to see where the noise had come from. Surprised by her sudden movement, Azeria yipped and took a few steps back to avoid being hit by Minnah's cloak as it spun with her. How had she managed to miss someone get this close to her? She stepped backwards herself, instinctively reaching out her right hand to pick up her bow - only to remember that she hadn't brought it with her. After all, the snow might have ended up deforming the wood, and that was the last thing she wanted. Still, she felt like an idiot for not bringing any kind of weapon with her.\n** **\n\nHowever, she was also quick to realize that the newcomer didn't seem all that threatening. After all, if this person intended to hurt her, she would have already been hurt, right? She took a deep breath to try and calm her rapidly beating heart as she straightened herself, pulling at her hood to make sure that her face was still covered. Perhaps Vhun might have caught a glimpse of what lay beneath, if she was paying close enough attention. Minnah had her nose and mouth wrapped up in a brown knitted woollen scarf to help protect her from the cold, but more notable was the rest of her face. The right side was fairly normal, her skin pale and the eye an amber color. Her other eye, though, was completely white, and the skin was coated in pinkish scar tissue, looking like it had been burned badly some time ago. The few strands of hair poking out were almost as white as the snow, but mostly hidden beneath her hood.\n\nMinnah didn't say a word as she quickly snatched up her paintbrush, brushing off some snow and carefully placing it down on the easel. Although she was still a bit shaken, she began calming down, focusing her attention on the one who had approached her. She wasn't quite sure she had ever seen someone like that, but then she remembered the tales her mother had told her when she was younger, about the mothfolk living high up in the sky. This person seemed to fit that description exactly. But... What would someone like that want with her?\n\nQuietly, she raised her right hand and gave the newcomer a little wave. She kept her left hand hidden behind her back, and overall didn't seem too keen on showing off parts of herself, but hopefully for her, this person wouldn't mind too much."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun had continued to creep closer, her lower set of hands holding her deck of paper cards, and her upper clutching a single fray-edged parchment card. She twisted it between her hands as she stood there, waiting for this stranger to notice her. She was nervous, as she always was when approaching strange people. Many had strange ideas about mothfolk, and she never knew if one was going to be hostile. She'd yet to encounter anyone that was truly dangerous to her, but it always was a small concern of hers. She had no interest in being shot, stabbed or magically obliterated.\n\nAs the mothfolk spotted the fox, the creature took a long stride back, antennae twitching rather nervously. Though she was quite fond of the outdoors, and by extension the wildlife, she certainly wasn't adept or even capable in terms of ability to handle them. She didn't want the thing to bite her, nor did she want to have to fly away like some kind of coward. She wasn't a coward. Her head tilted downward, focusing on the creature in full. It was difficult to tell where the mothfolk was looking, given the nature of her eyes, but she seemed to be making quite an effort to direct her body in such a way that it was clear.\n\nThe poor mothfolk made an equally surprised sound as Minnah spun, head whipping after her hand as she watched her reach for... Something? She didn't know what. Probably something to throw at her, she thought, given how startled the poor thing seemed. She wondered briefly of her species. Certainly not mothfolk. Maybe some sort of shapeshifter? She couldn't see anything that would suggest anything else. Really, she couldn't see much of anything at all. Maybe she was just senstitive to the cold. It didn't matter. She truly just wanted to complement her art.\n\nSlowly, Vhun lifted her hand to copy the wave with her free upper hand. Her face was rather non-expressive, given her nature, but one could see that she certainly had given a lot of thought to her appearance. There was thin white hair there, hair that striped down her face in a long, thick band, and appeared to be powdered as a means of creating even more contrast against her otherwise dark gray complexion. She took another slow step forward, lifting up the card and presenting it to her.\n\nIn neat —albeit loopy—handwriting, a single word stood boldly out against yellowed parchment.\n\n*Hello.*\n\nHer lower set of hands shuffled through the cards once more, passing another card up, then continuing their shuffle.\n\n*My name is Vhun.*\n\nThe sets of hands traded cards.\n\n*What's your name?*\n\nThey traded once more, this final card being presented alongside a finger pointed in the direction of the painting.\n\n*I like that.*"
},
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "Okay, she hadn't been hurt yet by this... Person? Minnah was unsure if it was appropriate to call this probably a Mothfolk that, as she didn't know much about the species aside from a few vague details that she could barely recall. Either way, it seemed that her earlier idea had been correct, this person didn't mean to cause her harm. Beneath her scarf, her lips parted in a quiet exhale of relief, her breath visible in the cold. It truly had been a surprise to be talked to so suddenly, but she was recovering well enough.\n\nQuietly, she examined the person, taking in her strange appearance. It might take her a little while to get used to, but something told Minnah that the other had put a lot of care into looking the way she did. And those details on her cloak, were those gold thread? It almost made Minnah feel a little inadequate, with how plain her outfit was. Almost, she knew better than to entertain feelings like that.\n\nMinnah resisted the urge to step back when the other took a step forward, and instead turned her attention to the card that had been presented to her. She blinked in surprise, her eyes darting between the card and the Mothfolk's face. She couldn't help it, the thought crossed her mind - was this person, who was named Vhun, according to the second card, like her? She tilted her head slightly, booting the thought out of her head as she glanced at the third one. An open-ended question like that was going to take a bit more effort to answer, but she decided to wait, as it seemed Vhun had something else to say. Or, well, show.\n\nShe looked at where the other was pointing, finding that it was her own painting. That was unexpected, to say the least. Yet... It wasn't unwelcome. Beneath her scarf, the slightest hint of a smile tugged at her lips, though there was no way to see it from the outside. The sudden compliment did make it so Minnah felt more like having a conversation with Vhun, and the urge to run away vanished quickly.\n** **\n\nHowever, not a single sound escaped her. Instead, she held up her right hand, hoping to wordlessly tell Vhun to wait a second, and she crouched down next to her easel and stuck her right hand into the simple bag that lay beneath it, pulling out a wooden box, colored a dark brown. Gently holding it in her left, which was protected from the cold with a leather glove, Minnah pulled off the top to reveal a simple white feather - no, the point of it was sharpened like a quill used for writing. It didn't look like anything fancy, yet Minnah picked it up as if it was the most precious item in the world, which it kind of was to her.\n\nShe held the thing up in the air, and as if the air in front of her was a piece of parchment, started writing. More surprisingly, words actually showed up, a red color that was glowing slightly, but the light they gave off was difficult to see when the sun was up. *My name is Minnah*, she wrote, and paused, allowing the words to slowly turn around and drift towards Vhun so that she could read them. After fifteen seconds or so, the ink vanished, not leaving a trace of its existence behind.\n\n*Thank you*, she wrote in response to the compliment, and then added, a moment later; *I like your clothes.* Her handwriting was curly and quite pretty to look at, especially with the soft red glow of the words themselves. *Is that gold thread in your cloak?* Now it was Minnah's time to point, though she pointed with her quill instead of her free hand, which she seemed to be avoiding using. She hoped her own words came off as sincerely as she meant them, as she was still hiding her face and its expressions, and she didn't have the advantage of the tone of her voice either."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The mothfolk stared back at Minnah evenly, given that her eyes were not capable of showing any other expression. She could tell this woman was unsettled by her, but didn't know what else to do to calm her. All she could do was twitch her antennae and wring her hands. It wasn't often that she was acutely aware that her appearance was strange, but right now she certainly was. She didn't like it. She didn't like being able to fix this. Her shoulders slowly drooped down, the muscles of her wings relaxing as the enormous limbs fully shed their tension. She was trying to seem non threatening through loose body language.\n\nThis other person did seem confused. Was she unaccustomed to those who could not physically speak the common language? Or was she unable to read her handwriting? Some people weren't all that good with reading, Vhun knew, and she supposed she couldn't blame them for that. It wasn't as if it was a malicious action on the part of either, though Vhun had recently realized her cards were getting a little bit worn. Maybe they were the problem...\n\nRelief flooded through her as the other woman held a hand up for her to wait. What was that she was pulling out? A quill and cards? A quiet, thrumming chuckle slipped out of Vhun, a sound that was perhaps unrecognizable to Minnah, but most certainly quite gentle. They were similar, in a way. That was more of a relief than she could know.\n\nThe cards shuffled once more, Vhun counting through them for two cards displayed in quick succession.\n\n*You're welcome.*\n\n*Nice to meet you.*\n\nIf one looked close, or cared to make note of the cards, there seemed to be a system in place to organize them. Each card had a notch cut in one corner, though this corner seemed to vary. The two recently displayed cards were missing their top right corner and left top corner respectively.\n\nInternally, Vhun was speaking Minnah's name. It was very pretty, she thought, and she wondered if she could pronounce it. The 'M' and the 'n' certainly could be a pleasant low buzz. Maybe she'd have to practice it when she made it home. This thought quickly slipped away at the complement, however, the mothfolk seemed to puff up with pride as she read it. Her wings fluttered excitedly as she traded cards between her hands again, head turning down as she shuffled for a new set of cards.\n\n*No.*\n\n*Wait.*\n\n'No' was another card missing its top right corner, so was wait.\n\nThe whole stack of pre-made cards were transferred to Vhun's upper right hand, her upper left moving to dig in her pockets for a long moment, eventually producing a scrap of parchment and a stick of charcoal. It wasn't the most elegant of writing utensils, but it was effective. Her hands traded objects once more, lower set of hands now holding the cards while her upper set to writing.\n\n*It is dye I made. I am very happy with it.*\n\nShe allowed a moment for Minnah to read, then folded the paper over to write more.\n\n*You are a very skilled painter.*"
}
] | 731 | 2,881 |
566 | 2023-01-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "Despite its slightly shaky start, Minnah felt that the conversation was going quite well, actually. She was getting over her initial scare, and beginning to realize that Vhun was really nice. To be honest, Minnah was feeling a little bad that she'd reacted in such a way. There hadn't been a good reason for it, and she couldn't imagine that it felt very nice to the Mothfolk. She herself knew that she hated it when people responded to her presence like that. Yeah, she definitely had to apologize for that.\n\nBut, right now wasn't the correct moment, it seemed. Once more, Minnah read the cards in front of her, subconsciously pulling at her hood to make sure that her face was still completely hidden. *Nice to meet you too*, she wrote, the letters once more hovering in the air, slowly turning around to face Vhun. Although Minnah was more used to her own method of writing on air, she found the way Vhun was communicating through the use of those cards quite interesting as well. For simple small talk, it might even be better, because she wouldn't have to write down the same things over and over again. Plus, now that she was looking at them more closely, there seemed to be some way of ordering them, with some cards missing certain corners. Or perhaps that was a coincidence, she had no way to be sure.\n\nIt surprised her a little when Vhun's wings suddenly fluttered, but Minnah managed to hide it. After all, it didn't look like a threat, especially with what the Mothfolk did next. It seemed more like excitement, actually. She did as she was told and waited patiently, gazing at Vhun with some curiosity. What was she doing? Figuring she'd find out soon, Minnah decided to take the time to check on Azeria, crouching down to scoop up the fox with both arms - after all, standing on the cold ground for long periods of time couldn't be great for her. The little creature simply accepted its fate and didn't struggle, only adjusted her position slightly to be more comfortable.\n\n** **\nAs Vhun pulled out her own writing utensils, Minnah quickly stood straight once more, now holding her fox in a warm embrace. She read the words presented to her and blinked in surprise. Someone could do that? Just make dyes? She leaned forward a bit to see if she could get a better look, but Vhun was still a bit too far away. It was so very tempting to step closer and examine the patterns, yet Minnah felt it was inappropriate to do so without asking. So, instead, she shifted the weight of the fox to her left arm, wincing slightly in pain as she did so, so that she could write with her right.\n\n*It looks beautiful*, she commented, and added a smiley face a moment later, realizing that Vhun couldn't see her smile underneath the scarf. *Did you make the cloak yourself?* It could also be one that she added the details onto, which that would still be impressive.\n\nUpon receiving her own compliment, though, Minnah reacted quite differently. She turned her head to the side and shyly averted her gaze to look at the painting for a few moments. Was it really that good? It looked fairly standard to her, but then again, wasn't that what most people thought about their own work? A proper smile had found its way onto her face when she turned her head back, though she knew that Vhun couldn't see it. *Thank you*, she wrote once more, and then, after a moment's hesitation; *That really means a lot.*"
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun was as happy as could be, though her face certainly didn't show it. It wasn't any quirk of hers, given that Vhun was thoroughly unaware that she was, in essence, staring deadpan at this other woman. It was simply how her face was constructed. She was passing the deck of communication cards between her lower hands as she stared at Minnah, apparently using this as a means of fidgeting. Perhaps she wasn't as rigid as she'd initially seemed. Those wings of hers were twitching again too, slowly half-spreading and then folding once more. She was trying to stretch them out without seeming like she was about to take off. That sometimes unsettled people.\n\nHer hands shuffled through the cards once more, trying to figure out how she could comment on Minnah's communication style without needing to write. She was low on blank parchment, and she didn't feel like trying to rub away her previously written words. That never worked as well as she wanted it to, typically ending in illegible words or torn paper. She chose a card she'd already used, one missing its top left corner.\n\n*I like that.*\n\nShe pointed to the writing, and then after a long moment, to the fox. It was quite the cute little creature, and she didn't want the other woman to think that she was afraid of the thing. She had a feeling the step back she'd taken at first contact hadn't gone unnoticed. Vhun considered herself to be quite perceptive, and something told her that this woman was the same way. Her eyes found Minnah's, tracking them back toward herself. Was she looking at her cloak? Vhun took a small step closer. She did only have the one eye that seemed to work. Maybe being closer would make it easier for her to see?\n\nThe cards shuffled again, Vhun's head turning down to watch them.\n\n*Thank you.*\n\n*Yes.*\n\nTwo cards missing their top right corner, then a third.\n\n*You are welcome.*\n\nVhun made a sound in her throat, one that Minnah certainly wouldn't understand. \n\n\"You are funny, I like you.\"\n\nShe knew this wouldn't be understood, but hoped the warmth of her tone would express something to that effect. Her hands traded their items once more, Vhun setting back to writing, or rather, drawing, on her blank slip of parchment. When revealed, Minnah would find a smiley face, like her own staring back at her. This little sketched face, however, sported a pair of antennae. It seemed Vhun was trying to show her feelings in a way Minnah would understand."
},
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "While yes, admittedly, Minnah had been a little unsettled by Vhun's appearance at first, she was growing used to it - and actually, for whatever reason, found that it was getting easier to look at the mothfolk than at most people. She suspected it had something to do with the lack of facial expressions, Vhun didn't look at her with that look of disgust or pity or curiosity or concern that Minnah had grown so used to, and she didn't seem to be staring at the elf's scars either. Well, maybe she did, but Minnah had no way to know that, which was a feeling she didn't dislike. Who knew, perhaps in time, she might learn to understand the other's body language as well.\n\nAnother way in which this conversation was unusual; Vhun seemed to be expressing that she liked Minnah's way of communicating, instead of finding it bothersome or annoying. She was tempted to ask if that was really what she thought, if Minnah wasn't interpreting something wrong, but was stopped by the sound of Azeria letting out a cheerful yip, as if the fox could sense what was said about her. Perhaps it was a better idea to focus on that instead of the things she was worried about. After all, Vhun hadn't given her much of a reason to worry, so it probably was silly.\n\n*Her name is Azeria*, she wrote, and added after a moment; *Would you like to pet her?* To try and demonstrate that it was safe to do so, Minnah scratched the fox behind the ears, which the little creature seemed to enjoy, tail wagging almost like a dog. Of course, Minnah felt a little nervous at the thought of someone getting close enough to her to do so, though not as nervous as she usually felt. Frankly, in most situations, she would already have made up an excuse and left.\n** **\n\nMinnah resisted the urge to step back and hide her face when Vhun took a step closer. Had she noticed that Minnah was having difficulty examining the details on her cloak? Vhun had been right, Minnah couldn't see out of her left eye at all - which wasn't exactly difficult to see if one spotted her eye, as it was completely white, unlike her right, which was a pretty amber color. Seeing no reason not to, she took the opportunity to examine the patterns. From afar, they looked pretty, and from up close, it was simply beautiful. *I love it*, she wrote, gesturing at it. She didn't know what else to say, it was simple, and it was the truth.\n\nAnd then, Vhun made some sort of sound. Minnah hesitated, her quill pausing in the air. She had no idea what that meant, but it wasn't unpleasant to hear. Was that the language that the mothfolk spoke? Luckily, Vhun added a smiley face in writing, which conveyed the intention behind the strange sound a little better. Minnah nodded in understanding, and wrote another smiley face of her own, this time adding the pointed ears of a high elf. Behind her scarf, her smile stayed, but she didn't dare show it."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun politely averted her gaze for a moment, appearing to take a great interest in a nearby tree. Given that she didn't blink, she was all too aware that it seemed like she was impolitely staring. She didn't want that. This woman didn't seem all that judgmental, but she never could be too sure. She was by no means insecure of herself, or even all that insecure in her ability to converse, but she was uncertain here. She needed more cards, she thought. More cards with more phrases. She didn't know what phrases specifically, but she certainly needed more.\n\nShe was right in assuming that Vhun liked her way of communicating, or rather she was incredibly impressed. She wished she was capable of such things. It would make everything a lot easier, and make her a lot less reliant on carrying around scraps of parchment. She used quite a lot of parchment, and such things were not all that inexpensive. \n\nThe mothfolk seemed to light up at Minnah's offer, hands shuffling through her cards so fast that two fell to the ground. Quickly, Vhun stooped to pick up *I understand your language* And *What?* Before selecting two other cards to form her response.\n\n*Yes*\n\nThis was hastily followed by.\n\n*Thank you.*\n\nShe quickly passed these two cards back to her lower hands, freeing her two upper hands to pet the fox. She approached slowly as to not stress either party, antennae twitching excitedly as she slowly extended for the fox to sniff. Once the creature did, the mothfolk would extend both hands to stroke her head. \n\n\"Aren't you just adorable? Yes! Hello.\"\n\nOf course Vhun's words probably sounded like nothing save for hums and clicks to Minnah, but there was a distinct touch of excitement in her voice as she rubbed the creatures head. Her lower hands did lift up briefly, showing the same card in response to Minnah's final statement.\n\n*Thank you.*\n\nAnother happy noise, something that was a giggle, left Vhun as she looked at the smiley face. She was an elf, it seemed. How lovely."
},
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "Minnah tried her very best to keep herself calm as Vhun approached, taking deep and careful breaths to prevent her heart from beating itself out of her chest. Perhaps the mothfolk noticed the way Minnah stiffened up slightly, perhaps not, her wide cloak did hide some of her movements. It was appreciated how carefully Vhun seemed to approach her, even if Minnah couldn't voice that thought in the moment.\n\nAzeria curiously looked at the approaching person, sniffing the air as she flicked an ear once or twice. She held almost perfectly still while Vhun got closer, unsure what was happening. If there was danger, she was more than ready to squirm from Minnah's arms and run, or perhaps bite at the hands coming for her, and if not, well, she hadn't thought that far ahead yet. Luckily, the hands that caressed her head felt kind and warm, and Azeria relaxed quickly enough, blinking slowly in the rhythm of the pets on her head. Yup, this person had gained her approval. If it were up to the fox, she could be like this for a while longer, it was nice to be given attention from two people at once.\n\nAs the fox relaxed, Minnah did so too, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, which condensed in the cold air. She couldn't help but smile at the interaction between the two, because it was simply adorable. Actually, she had been doing that a surprising amount today - smiling, that was. It was a nice feeling, it kind of made her hope she could do it more in the future.\n\nOf course, she had no idea what Vhun just said, but she really did like the sound of her language, whatever it was. There was something about it that soothed her, though she couldn't explain why. Yet another thing she would have to ask about some time. Not like she minded, she was quite enjoying being around Vhun, so any excuses to do so more were welcome.\n** **\n\nShe waved the thanks away with her right hand, left arm still busy holding on to Azeria. *You're doing me a favor by giving her attention*, she wrote, and then after a moment, added another smiley face to try and show that she was attempting to be lighthearted. After all, it wasn't like she could use facial expressions to communicate. Well, technically she could, but she couldn't get herself to do that, not yet at least. Besides, doing so in this weather seemed like a terrible idea. Her few exposed body parts were already feeling cold, so uncovering more just sounded like a stupid idea. Better not, then."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The tension held in Minnah's body was not lost on Vhun, though the mothfolk truly couldn't tell if her strategy of slow movements and carefully planned distance was doing anything to help calm her. Maybe, Vhun thought, she should just leave. That wasn't an option she was all that excited about, but she supposed it was most likely the best option for this other woman.\n\nThese thoughts slowly slipped away as Vhun set about petting the fox in the woman's arms. It was incredibly soft, she thought, certainly softer than her sister's horse, and softer than any cat she'd managed to capture and pet in recent memory. This was a wonderful creature, and for a half-moment Vhun truly considered attempting to inquire where Minnah had acquired such a beast. She pushed that thought away rather quickly. Where would she keep a pet? It didn't matter. She tilted her head to one side, pocketing her set of cards to free up all four of her hands to pet the little thing.\n\n\"I hope you are not afraid of my hands. I do believe I have more than you are used to.\"\n \nVhun continued speaking softly to the beast, hoping that it could at the very least understand her tone. Animals were strange that way, she knew. Her sister's horse seemed to understand their tongue, which Vhun had been told was quite hard to learn. Maybe it was more about tone. Had this creature ever met a mothfolk? It seemed unlikely.\n\nThe mothfolk gave another tittering, humming giggle, politely tilting her head down as she read Minnah's statement. How nice of her. It certainly wasn't true, but it was nice of her to say anyway. Her lower hands dipped back into her pocket, retrieving and beginning to sort through her cards once more. Her upper hands continued petting the fox.\n\n*You're welcome.*\n\nThe card was presented once more, followed by another laugh from Vhun."
}
] | 554.5 | 3,396 |
467.25 | 2023-01-09 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "Azeria seemed to be happy enough being pet with four hands at the same time. Yeah, it was unusual, but like, who cared? It felt nice, and that was all that mattered. About twice as nice as being pet with two hands, in fact. She let out a cheerful yip in response to Vhun's words, not quite understanding their meaning, but the intent behind them sounded friendly enough. The only thing that could make this situation even better for her was some food and maybe a warm fire.\n\nMinnah, meanwhile, was focused on her breathing, trying to keep it steady. She was doing much better than she expected, but still, part of her felt that familiar anxiety, sitting tightly in her chest. She hated the feeling. Everything was going well, so why was she still feeling like this? It didn't seem that there was much she could do about it, though, so she just kind of hoped it would go away on its own if she ignored it.\n\nIt did fade a little with the sound of laughter coming from Vhun, and Minnah herself chuckled as well. As was to be expected, she didn't make a sound while doing so, but it was still clear enough to most that it was a chuckle, a decently rare thing for her.\n\n*Might I ask, what language are you speaking?* She wrote, curiously. Hopefully the question wouldn't come off as insensitive. Who knew, perhaps it was a language that had grown really common in the area, and Minnah was an idiot for not knowing what it was. It seemed unlikely, but there was a chance. Either way, she hoped the question came off as innocent as she meant it.\n** **\n\nAn idea appeared in her mind, then. She had noticed that Vhun seemed to be running out of parchment to write on, so perhaps she could help out with that? *Would you like to try?* She asked, then turned the quill to Vhun so that she could take it if she wanted to. The method used to actually it write was quite easy; one just needed to have the intention to write, and it would do so. The enchantment that made the quill into a magical item was intelligent enough to know when to stop writing, and frankly, it was so easy to make it do what one wanted that a child could master it within a few minutes. And, if Vhun rejected this option, Minnah did have some pieces of parchment with her that she'd used to sketch the area before committing it to canvas, she could hand those over as well."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The mothfolk was still petting the fox as she looked to Minnah once more. She'd stowed the '*You're welcome*' card by now, returning all four of her hands to petting the fox. She kept her head tilted down toward the fox, though her eyes were truly focused on Minnah. This was the benefit of having compound eyes, it was hard for others to figure out exactly where she was looking. This woman seemed somewhat fickle, she thought. Was she nervous? Vhun didn't know why that would be, but she thought that perhaps she should leave this place. She didn't want to stress this woman out any more than she need to, even if she did want to spend time with her.\n\nThere was another question rather suddenly, and Vhun was almost disappointed in this. Part of her wanted to keep petting the fox, but she supposed that she'd better answer the question. Her hands moved away from the fox slowly, moving to start digging in her pockets for parchment. She had just a little bit left, but it wasn't that difficult of a question to answer. However, before she had a chance to dig out her own writing utensil, the apparently magical quill belonging to Minnah was offered.\n\nVhun didn't bother with the cards, instead nodding her head vigorously at the offer. She most certainly did want to try that quill. That was the ultimate convenient tool, and she wanted to know how it worked. Though Vhun herself was capable of some magic, she didn't know how to make magic quills. Perhaps she would need to learn.\n\nShe slowly reached out to take the quill in her right upper hand, first drawing a little squiggle in the air to test it. Vhun couldn't help but giggle at this, another soft thrumming sound. This time, when she wrote, it was in full sentences.\n\n*The language is Ivathi! I believe most call it Mothspeak. I wouldn't worry if you can't understand what I'm saying. I have yet to meet anyone that is not mothfolk that understands it. I understand Common though. And I can write in it as well, as you can see!*"
},
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "After a little under fifteen seconds, the written words would begin to vanish, but that was usually plenty of time to read them. Of course, there were ways to make them remain for longer, if one deemed that necessary. Minnah didn't feel like she particularly needed it, though, this was enough time for her.\n\nAs the quill left her hand, Minnah shifted Azeria's weight and held the fox with her right arm instead, lowering the left to her side. She winced at the feeling, finding that the cold had made her scars significantly more sensitive, and moving her arm after holding it still for a while, to put it simply, hurt like hell. Yet, she tried to keep her reaction under wraps, not wanting to make Vhun worry - or perhaps she just didn't want to deal with the questions, that might be the more likely option.\n\nTrying to ignore the aching, she watched Vhun write, unable to stop herself from smiling at the other's enthusiasm. It kind of made her want to just gift the thing to her - actually, that might not be a terrible idea. Maybe not this one specifically, as she kind of needed it for herself, but she could get another one relatively easily. She knew someone who had the ability to enchant them, and the price he asked was reasonable enough. Of course, it was a bit hard for her to express that right now, as Vhun was holding her only method of communication, but it was an idea to keep in mind for later.\n\nMinnah nodded along as she read the floating text. Vhun had gotten the hang of it impressively quickly. Ivathi, eh? She tried to say the word in her mind, but couldn't figure out how to pronounce it exactly - then again, it wasn't like she was ever going to pronounce it, as long as she knew how to write it, it was fine. Mothspeak was indeed a simpler way of saying it, though she couldn't help but wonder which way was preferred by the mothfolk.\n** **\n\nEither way, she found the language to be quite interesting, so far. It didn't sound like the words she was used to, more... Well, she didn't really know how to describe it. She would definitely love to learn more about it, if Vhun was willing to tell her. Actually, she would love to learn more about the other in general, but she also didn't want to seem rude by asking a bunch of questions. A difficult balance indeed."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "If she'd been capable of producing a true toothy smile, Vhun would have been smiling like a child. This was a fantastic thing, she thought. She wished she had one. She really wasn't sure how to go about trying to figure out the origin of this wonderful item, however, and she supposed she'd wait to see if she met this woman again. She paused once more, trying to figure out what she should say next.\n\n*Does that make sense? I just thought I should tell you that so you did not feel bad that you can't understand my language?*\n\nShe gave another little hum, her fingers stroking across the feather of the quill before she turned it over in her hands once and then passed it back toward Minnah. She was painfully aware of what it felt like to be rendered unable to communicate. She didn't want to take such a thing from this very nice woman.\n\nHer hands found her cards once more, head turning down to look at them. By now her hands had withdrawn from the fox, not wanting to awkwardly reach across the woman to continue petting the creature. She really did need a pet, she thought, but that was an endeavor for another day. For now she'd simply have to sit in fantasy as to what that pet would be.\n\nA card was displayed after a long moment, a card that she'd shown multiple times now.\n\n*Thank you.*\n\nA pause followed this, Vhun giving a long moment of consideration.\n\n\"M-nn-ah.\" \n\nShe pronounced the name without all too much difficulty, given that she'd modified it ever so slightly. The last syllable was emphasized, Vhun folding her hands as she stared at her, clearly quite pleased with herself."
}
] | 488.5 | 1,869 |
517.5 | 2023-01-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "Even if she didn't know what her words meant, Minnah was quick to notice the concern in the other's body language, which was enough to ascertain their general meaning. She cringed internally at having made Vhun worry for no good reason. *Sorry*, she wrote, *I'm okay.* At least she didn't shrink back when Vhun's hands reached in her direction, which Minnah knew she would've done at the beginning of this conversation. *Just a little homesick, I suppose.* She did feel a little silly, getting so emotional over such a simple thing. Hopefully she could just move on from this topic to alleviate her embarrassment somewhat.\n\nTaking a few deep breaths, she decided to focus on the words presented to her instead. Minnah curiously looked at the circular letters, finding them to be completely unfamiliar to her. But at least they didn't look too difficult to write, that was lucky. Of course, the impossibility of being able to say the words wasn't a big issue for her, because she couldn't say anything at all. Writing, reading, and understanding the spoken form, that seemed doable enough with some effort.\n\n*Is it a hard language to learn?* Minnah asked curiously. She then hesitated, holding her quill in the air for a moment before adding; *If I'm asking too much, say so and I'll stop.* She didn't want to annoy Vhun, after all. *And if you want to ask anything, please feel free to do so.* Another pause, and then she recalled something she'd thought of a little while back.\n** **\n\nPassing her quill to her left hand, she once more crouched down next to her bag that still sat beneath the easel, careful not to squish Azeria with her body. Minnah dug through it for a few moments, then pulled out a few sheets of parchment with sketches on them, the same scene that was depicted on her painting. They were nice enough to look at, but Minnah had no use for them. She flipped them over to the empty backside and held them out to Vhun for her to take. After all, it seemed the mothfolk had been running out of parchment to write on, so why not give her some more?"
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun seemed quite relieved that her attempt at verbal communication was understood, retracting her hands as Minnah began to write once more. Many people were quite disturbed by the sound of her language coupled by Vhun herself running toward them. However, this woman didn't seem to be afraid of her. That was absolutely a relief. She really did like her. Instead of replying with a card, the mothfolk just nodded along with her. Making her read right now seemed like it wouldn't help anyone.\n\nThe mothfolk kept her writing held out, allowing Minnah to continue to examine it. She did seem strangely intrigued by it, and if such a thing could serve as a distraction to her apparently poor mood, Vhun was more than happy to provide it. Her hands moved to shuffle through her cards once more at the question, slightly relieved that she wouldn't have to provide emotional support.\n\n*Yes.*\n\nA pause, the mothfolk's head turning down to watch Minnah stoop. What was she doing? Was she packing up to leave? That was a far less subtle cue than most gave, and somehow seemed uncharacteristic for this woman. Vhun took a small step back, leaning lightly forward as she watched her. Drawings? She was picking up drawings? Why? Though Vhun thought they were pretty, she definitely didn't think she should have them. Her head tilted, and then she pulled out her own piece of parchment, beginning to write. It was time to give a three-part answer.\n\n*You aren't asking too much at all. Nobody seems to ask me anything. It is hard to learn my language because you have different parts for speaking.*\n\nA line was drawn beneath this.\n\n*You're an artist, yes? Do you paint for a living? You are very good at it. Do you speak any other languages?*\n\nAnother line. Separation of thoughts.\n\n*I can't take those.*"
},
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "Minnah was definitely trying to hold too much things at once, with Azeria on her left arm, the quill in her left hand and the parchment in her right. Well, it seemed like the fox would be fine with being on the ground for a little bit, so she gently placed her down. It'd be good for the aching in her arm too, give it a moment to rest.\n\nAzeria didn't seem to mind very much, looking around for a moment before noticing that Vhun was still there. Well, why not? With what almost looked like a smile on her face, she walked towards the mothfolk, sat down on the ground and looked up at her, tail slowly swishing from left to right on the snow. She let out a yip to attract Vhun's attention, hoping to get more pets - or food, food would be equally as good. Azeria wasn't particularly hungry, she just liked to eat.\n\nWith the fox now on the ground, Minnah switched her pen back to her right hand and held the parchment in her left. Much better. Now that she could actually focus on what Vhun was writing, she did exactly that, leaning forward slightly to read.\n\nShe couldn't help but let out a silent chuckle at the first line. *That won't be a problem*, she wrote, and hesitated. *I*, another hesitation, *Can't exactly talk anyway.* Minnah paused, averting her gaze, thinking for a moment before she discarded that thought. *If I can write, read, and understand it, that's all I need.*\n\nMinnah decided to follow Vhun's example and separate her answers, though she instead just waited until the previous words had vanished. *I do paint for a living, but my mother sells them for me. She's much prettier than I am. It sells better.* Perhaps, in an alternate timeline, Minnah might have grown up to be as beautiful as her mother, maybe even more so, but that wasn't the one she lived in. In this one, her appearance was simply off-putting to many people, and there wasn't much she could do about it.\n_ _\n\nAnother few moments passed while she waited for the text to disappear, avoiding looking at it. It was a truth she didn't like being confronted with too much. *I know Elvish as well*, she then wrote, deliberately avoiding the word 'speak'. *But nothing else. What about you?* There might be yet another language that Vhun hadn't told her about, which would be even more impressive. Mastering another language was already hard enough, but two, or more? Frankly, Minnah wouldn't know what to think of that.\n\nShe held out the parchment once more when Vhun declined it, blank side pointing up. *I thought I saw yours was running out of space.* To be fair, she might have been mistaken in that, her vision wasn't perfect. *I don't need these, I was planning on tossing them anyway. But perhaps you might be able to make use of them?* It certainly would be less of a waste if they were reused for Vhun's writing. *If you don't want them, I'll put them back.* It was but an offer, after all."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The mothfolk's gaze, which had been squarely placed on Minnah for a few long minutes, slowly tilted down to examine the fox. The little creature had made her way over to Vhun, and the mothfolk really did want to interact with her. Slowly, Vhun bent at the knees, moving to extend her upper set of arms for the creature to sniff, still holding the cards in her lower arms. She really did want to just pick the little animal up, but didn't want it to bite her. That would be deeply embarrassing, and would probably hurt quite a lot.\n\nVhun kept writing as Minnah replied, giving a little hum as she slowly reached out to keep petting the fox. She nodded along as she spoke, not wanting this other woman to think that she was ignoring her. She really did like petting this creature, but she liked interacting with this woman more. She, after all, did need friends.\n\n*Understanding it is hard too, but I think you could pick it up. You seem very observant.*\n\nA noise something like a gasp of surprise came from Vhun at her next phrase, the creature tilting her head, fingers tapping against her leg. She didn't know what to say to this. What could she say? Telling Minnah she was beautiful wouldn't mean anything, given that Vhun hadn't actually seen her face. \n\n*I do not think you give yourself enough credit.*\n\nShe leaned forward to look at the parchment. Elvish? She couldn't speak that herself, though she'd always wanted to learn it. Perhaps, she thought, an exchange could be made. Or maybe not. She didn't want to make this into a transaction. That typically didn't bode well for future friendships.\n\n*Elvish? That is impressive. I never tried to learn that one. I also understand Aarakocrian. I suppose it is not the most useful.*\n\nVhun hesitated once more at the final statement. Toss those? Why would anyone do that? Her hands that were petting the fox stilled a moment as she thought.\n\n*I suppose I could use them in that case. Thank you. I am a little low on space.*\n\nShe had no intention of ruining such beautiful drawings. She'd just have to write lightly on the back so she could save and display them. Another pause, and then an unrelated question.\n\n*Will your fox be upset if I pick her up?*"
}
] | 492 | 2,070 |
451.25 | 2023-01-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "Although it was once again tempting to argue, this time on if her artistic abilities would be considered impressive enough, Minnah didn't want to drive away Vhun with too much negative self talk. Besides, what the other told her was right, some things were just impressive. *In that case, I'd say both of us are impressive.* An acceptable compromise, she'd hope.\n\nAzeria let out a soft whine when Vhun stopped petting her. That wasn't part of the deal! But, upon second consideration, she was still being held by a pair of arms, and she was pretty warm, so actually, she could live with this. The fox snuggled into Vhun's arms, enjoying the feeling of being held close.\n\n*It's no problem*, Minnah wrote quickly. She really hoped she wasn't making Vhun feel like she was being a bother, because she wasn't, this conversation was the best one she'd had in a while by far. *It's fairly close by, I can head there at any time, even without wings. You're not keeping me, really.* She added a smiley face, trying to show that she wasn't just saying that, she was being sincere. And while yes, time was passing on, she had darkvision, so it wasn't a big problem for her to travel at night. This forest tended to be decently safe in her experience.\n\nShe couldn't help it, she shot a few curious glances at the other side of the paper Vhun showed. It definitely looked like some kind of transaction, but what had been bought? However, a moment later, Minnah realized it was rude to look at that and averted her gaze, waiting until Vhun finished her next question instead. Of course, she didn't mind the reuse of paper - hell, the less of it was wasted, the better, in her mind. That was why she handed over the sketches to use as well.\n_ _\n\nThe question that was asked did make her hesitate, lowering her head to gaze at the limb. Minnah raised her quill to answer, and then once more hesitated, unsure what to say. Of course, she could just dismiss the question, write that everything was fine, there was nothing to worry about, but she didn't particularly want to tell such an obvious lie and risk driving Vhun away from her. Then again, the whole truth was something that she also didn't want to say. A mix between the two, then, if possible? Not the entire truth, not a lie either. That did seem best.\n\n*Some old scars. The cold makes them hurt sometimes.* She hesitated once more, then added; *It's nothing to worry about.* It wasn't the full truth, but none of her statements were lies either."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "This time, Minnah was answered with a card. It wasn't that Vhun was by any means attempting to end the conversation, but rather that she was still making an effort to conserve parchment. She had a feeling that their conversation would continue to require long answers, and there was no point in wasting such substance in a situation that did not require it.\n\n*Yes.*\n\nHer hands then returned to the fox, one supporting the creature's body and three petting her. One was on the creature's head, the other two on her back. She seemed to have adjusted after hearing the creature's whine, clearly feeling just a little bit bad. Had she somehow hurt the thing in holding her? Or was the creature simply after more affection? She didn't know, but she hoped it was the latter.\n\n Vhun set back to writing.\n\n*Oh. Good. I just wanted to be certain.*\n\nShe continued to nod along as she read Minnah's writing. She didn't know if she believed it, given that she had absolutely no knowledge on old injuries of that nature. It wasn't her place to attempt to figure that out anyway, she thought. All in all, she did feel something akin to pity for her. \n\n*I am sorry to hear that.*\n\nThe mothfolk had finally relented and taken to writing on the back of the presented parchment. Something about her posture could certainly be considered amusing, given that she was both trying to both hold an animal and write legibly. Sometimes, the mothfolk couldn't help but wish she had more arms."
},
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "Minnah smiled lightly, aware that Vhun was limited on parchment and that she was just trying to conserve it - at least, she assumed that was the case. If the other wanted to be rid of her, she presumed that she would just write that down. Besides, if Minnah had to go, Azeria had to go as well, and something in her told her that Vhun might not want that. *Don't worry, she just wants attention*, she wrote when the fox whined, then added jokingly; *Don't let her make you feel bad into giving you attention, that's what the spoiled brat wants.* She shot a fake glare at Azeria, but the fox didn't seem to care.\n\nInstead, Azeria let out a content noise, her tail lightly swinging from left to right in the air with no regard to if she was hitting Vhun with it. Perhaps she was a little spoiled, yet that didn't matter to her. She was just enjoying her time, now being pet with three hands at once. People really were easy to manipulate. A whine here, a yip there, and Azeria had them fully under her thumb - or, well, paw.\n\n*What about you?* Minnah asked, now kind of curious. *Where are you staying?* She'd heard tales of the kingdom in the sky, but had never seen it in her life - and wouldn't it be kind of impractical to fly all the way up there every day? She had no idea how fast flying was either, actually. Huh, there was a lot she didn't know about Vhun, her species, her home, her culture, and so on. She was curious about them, though she didn't want to be rude by asking too much, so she tried to keep her questions to a minimum.\n_ _\n\nShe gave a light shrug at the other's next comment. *It was a long time ago.* Over a hundred years by now, right? That was a bit of a depressing thought, actually - such a long time, and yet it still bothered her to this day. Minnah decided to try and ignore it, focusing on whatever Vhun was doing instead. She couldn't help it, she let out a silent chuckle at the sight. *Looks like you're in need of even more arms*, she commented with a smiley face at the end."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The mothfolk looked visibly relieved as she read Minnah's message. She hadn't hurt the creature in her arms. Rather, this creature really just wanted to be pet. She was more than happy to indulge this apparently 'brat'. Perhaps this creature was lucky she was adorable. She moved to start scratching the being beneath the chin, speaking quietly as she stared down at the being.\n\n\"I think you deserve attention, even if you are spoiled.\"\n\nThen, to Minnah, she gave a nod, and moved her hands away from the fox to write once more. She had space now that she was using the backs of drawings. Her handwriting remained neat and legible as could be, however, marching across the paper in a straight line. She prided herself on her handwriting, as vain as it was to do so.\n\n*I can see that she's rather spoiled. I'll keep that in mind. Though I have to say I seem to be enabling her a little...*\n\nShe nodded once more as she began to write, acknowledging that a question had been asked. She really needed a card for this answer, she thought. It was one that was asked quite often and had a very simple and consistent answer. Oh well. That was a task for when she went home, if she remembered to do so.\n\n*An inn as well. I live in the Findara capital. It really isn't all too terrible of a flight to make, but I'd rather not fly at night. Tends to spook people if I land to rest and they haven't seen me.*\n\nMaybe it wasn't such a simple answer after all, given that it had taken her a moment to answer. Maybe she just needed a card that said 'An inn.' and one that said 'Findara.' She did titter in laughter at the final comment, having once more taken up snuggling the fox. Her answer was once more simple, and given in the form of a card.\n\n*Yes.*"
}
] | 451.5 | 1,805 |
358.666667 | 2023-01-16 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "The fox lifted up her head to give Vhun access to her chin and neck, eyes closed. Her mouth hung open slightly, with what almost resembled a smile on her face. Under her chin was a great spot to be scratched, she decided. One eye opened slightly to glance at Vhun when the mothfolk spoke up, but it didn't seem like anything terribly important, so she closed it again. Even if it was important, she couldn't understand spoken languages anyway - Minnah couldn't teach her, after all.\n\n*She might be spoiled because I keep spoiling her*, Minnah suggested with a silent chuckle. *I can't help it, she's too cute.* Plus, Azeria was being really helpful to her too, being a companion that Minnah could reliably be around, one who she knew wouldn't judge her. How could she not spoil her?\n\nShe couldn't help but watch as Vhun wrote on the back of her sketches - Minnah didn't mind it, of course, she just wondered how she could keep her handwriting so straight and neat. Minnah knew that if she tried writing on actual paper, her sentences would curve and end up all kinds of crooked. Another chuckle escaped her as she realized she would rather display the backsides of those sketches than the fronts. How ironic.\n\n*Your handwriting is really nice*, she commented before actually answering the question. She could definitely imagine that Vhun might be a bit scary if she showed up in the middle of the night, especially to people who hadn't seen mothfolk before - hell, Minnah herself had been spooked by her not too long ago. It sucked, but there wasn't too much one could do about it, was there?\n\n*How long of a travel is it?* She asked then, glancing up to see the position of the sun. If it was a long travel, it might be best to end this conversation soon-ish. Minnah didn't want to, of course, but she liked the idea of Vhun getting hurt even less. If it was necessary, then so be it."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "\"You are the sweetest little creature. Yes. You certainly are.\"\n\nVhun was speaking to the creature in the way that many would, her voice high and having taken on an almost sing-song quality. It was nice to know that Minnah couldn't understand what she was saying. She would definitely think her to sound foolish. That was at least one benefit of speaking a little-understood language. She could talk to animals however she pleased.\n\n*I think that is not a bad thing. She deserves it.*\n\nThis writing was accompanied by another smiley face, clearly she was at least half joking. She didn't want this woman to think that she somehow was trying to ruin her pet. Maybe that was why she shouldn't own a pet. Any creature owned by Vhun would most certainly end up deeply spoiled. Her thought process was once more interrupted by Minnah speaking, Vhun perked up, rolling her shoulders neatly back as she once more trembled her wings happily at the complement. She answered with a card missing its right top corner.\n\n*Thank you.*\n\nShe began to write once more at the final question. It was a slightly complex answer, given the nature of flight, and as such she had no card for an answer.\n\n*About twenty minutes, I think. Maybe more or less, if the wind changes.*\n\nIt was strange, Vhun thought, that this woman had almost certainly never flown. She couldn't imagine not being able to do such a thing."
},
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "Azeria yipped in response to the words being spoken to her. Although she did not understand their meaning, she understood their tone, and that their intention was friendly enough. Her tail continued to move from left to right slowly, and her mouth opened widely in a yawn, all to show off that she was completely relaxed. She might even start to doze off at this point.\n\n*She does. After what she's been through, I don't mind spoiling her a little.* Minnah was about to continue on to the next topic, then realized she would likely be asked a question about what she just wrote, so she decided to answer it already. *I found her a while ago, almost dead after being shot by a hunter. I nursed her back to health, and she's been sticking with me ever since.* It was a very abbreviated summary of the situation, but that was the gist of it. Who knew, maybe in her petting of the fox, Vhun had felt a round scar in the fox' right and left flank, from where the arrow had gone straight through her. It was mostly covered in fur, but someone who looked at her closely might be able to spot it.\n\nTwenty minutes, that wasn't too dissimilar to Minnah's travel time. She nodded, understanding that the wind direction mattered for flight. Even if she had never flown in her life, and didn't particularly want to, she did know of the effect that wind had on walking, and Minnah could imagine it was worse when there was no ground beneath one's feet.\n\nShe didn't particularly want to ask the next question, but decided it was smart to do so anyway. *In how long will you be leaving?* Her hand hung in the air for a moment longer as if she wanted to add something else, though she decided against it, lowering the quill once more."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun had slowly moved to settle the fox just below her rib cage. It was a bit lower than one would typically hold the creature, but it was typical of Vhun, given that it was the held height of her lower set of arms. It was comfortable for her, and she thought that itShe had quite the long torso anyway, so it wasn't as if the being was about to be dropped on the ground or hit by Vhun's legs if she started to walk.\n\n*Poor thing. You are truly a good soul.*\n\nShe returned to petting the creature, having settled to pet the beast in long, soothing pets. She could tell it was tired and she hoped that the being would fall asleep. Her hands had already found the scar, and she'd elected to avoid touching them. There was a decent chance that it would cause discomfort or at the very least stress, she thought.\n\n*Have you had her long? Or only a few weeks or months?*\n\nThe mothfolk was making small talk by now, unsure of what to say. Maybe it was time to wrap this up, she thought. She didn't want to keep Minnah for too long. There was certainly something to be said for politeness, and she had the distinct feeling that neither of them wanted to be the one to break this off.\n\n*Soon, I think. The wind is in my favor. What about you?*\n\nHer hand movement wasn't lost on Vhun, but she didn't speak up. There was no reason to potentially embarrass her."
},
{
"author": "Minnah Yeltoris",
"message": "As was not uncommon for her, Azeria didn't care too much about being moved, as long as Vhun continued petting her. Indeed, and with another yawn, she did start drifting to sleep, dreams of food and being pet showing up in her mind. She didn't mind the old scars being touched - as long as they weren't poked too hard, they didn't hurt at all anymore. It had been a long time ago, after all, and she'd been well taken care of.\n\nMinnah couldn't help but smile slightly, lowering her head. Was she truly a good soul? Well, she only did the best she could, but that was good enough, was it not? *Thank you*, she wrote after a moment, once more turning her gaze towards Vhun. *Still, I consider myself lucky to have her.* There was nothing better than a companion on those lonely nights when she missed her home the most.\n\nShe paused, having to calculate the answer to that question. It had been late summer when she found Azeria, so... *A year and a half, I think? It feels like I've had her forever, though*, Minnah added with a chuckle. *She was so small back then, just the cutest.* There were a few paintings that depicted the fox back then, but most had been sold, or they were at home. Either way, Minnah unfortunately didn't have an example nearby.\n\nIt was indeed getting time to say goodbye, probably. Soon enough, it would be dark, and although Minnah could see at night, the darkness did carry additional risks along with it. *Soon as well.* She hesitated once more, however, this time, she did write it down. *Will I see you again?* It was a rare question for Minnah to ask - usually, she preferred to only meet people once, and then forget about them forever. But, she quite enjoyed conversing with Vhun, feeling like the mothfolk wouldn't end up judging her. Perhaps they could end up going more in-depth next time. She'd like that, Minnah thought absently."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun had settled the creature comfortably against her by now, allowing her cloak to rest partway over the creature's back in a small effort to keep it warm. The creature seemed tired enough to not mind the fabric touching her, and Vhun thought that perhaps it would be comfortable. Some creatures were odd about being covered by fabric, and she thought that this apparently wild animal might be one of those creatures.\n\n*She is very lucky to have you. She must feel very lucky too, as she has stayed that long.*\n\nThe mothfolk gave a friendly tutting noise to punctuate her statement. It was nice to not have to actually speak. Sounds were certainly something she could make rather easily, and given that her language wasn't understood, it meant that she could choose exactly how she wanted to punctuate her sentences. Even if it meant absolutely nothing, it could do nothing except help.\n\n*Oh. Then I do suppose I can walk you part of the way, if you would like?*\n\nA pause, the woman then giving another little nod. She really did want to meet this person again. She hadn't expected to meet someone that was not only in a similar boat to her in terms of communication. More than that, this woman was truly impressive in terms of artistic ability.\n\n*Yes. I hope so.*"
}
] | 351.5 | 2,152 |
383.666667 | 2023-03-18 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "**Henryk held his tongue for a moment, giving some thought on wha was shared. He would eye her, head to toe. Looks can be deceiving, but the stammering and stutters felt _too_ genuine. Henryk would elect to choose to believe that this woman truly meant no harm. He lowered his guard more. Both hands lowered. His hand that hovered nearby his satchel rested onto it, while his other free hand would lace its thumb into his pocket. Beneath his simple brown cloak were relatively fine wear— casual, certainly not overly extravagant, just dapper enough to give a gentleman's appeal. He now gave Midelia a relaxed posture. Though his facial expressions were cold, it wasn't as though he was projecting any sort of malice. He maintained this aloof aura around him— cold and distant. He wasn't out in the forest to make friends.**\n\n\"Henryk. I'm a doctor by trade. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.\" **He'd introduce himself. There was an awkward moment where he didn't say anything, picking his words, before finally breaking the silence.** \"It may not appear so, however, I'm rather busy right now.\" **He would simply tell her, attempting to wedge more distance between the two, not literally, but rather emotionally.** \"If you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way.\"\n\n**He would attempt to walk around her, moving with cat-like movement. It was evident he felt the need to push people away. His mind seemed to be in thought— thinking of where he'd find his next ingredients. It was evident enough before he was searching for more plants. _Worm Wood_ and _Dittany._ Considering the fae's affinity to nature, she'd may possibly know more in-depth about these plants. Worm Wood is commonly used in particular alcoholic blends, but, also is a potent ingredient in healing salves. Dittany, meanwhile, is a therapeutic and aromatic plant, and when swallowed alone, can heighten the healing process of shallow wounds. But, Ditanny was only found along side mountains and gorges— perhaps he was going to chance it at the mines? Or possibly seek it elsewhere? Certainly the doctor intended to use Dittany in his healing salves as well.**\n\n**That lends a different question though. Why collect _Fly Amantia?_ Most ingredients he audibly listed were meant for healing, however, the mushrooms he just collected are widely known to be poisonous— downright lethal, along with the fact it is psychoactive, directly affecting the mind. This was an ingredient not meant for healing, but rather lended itself to being a potent ingredient for poison.**\n\n**So why collect it?**\n\n**This 'doctor' grew more suspicious, and it was to her to pursue this man to inquire more, or simply let him leave.**\n\n**This forest _is_ dangerous.**"
},
{
"author": "Midelia Protunshast",
"message": "```Implanting herself would be a rather strange process, but a process that doesn't provide many boons outside stability and comfort. The dryad could quite quickly leave such a state if need be, but it seems she respects her own boundaries and those of Hendryk if the forager wishes to keep his distance than so shall it be. A rather pleasant thing for Midelia as she isn't one to really get too close to others.```"
},
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "**He paused in his tracks when she spoke to him again. Seems she might've been spying on him. To be frank, he'd spy on her too if the roles were reversed. He is a cautious man after all. Henryk would think about what she was offering, and, based off _what_ she was, it's likely beneficial to him. Issue is, what would she get in return? There is always a catch to these sorts of deals.**\n\n\"Hm. An enticing offer, however, what benefit do you gain from assisting me?\" **Henryk would ask, prodding her with this question. He was once again dissecting her— metaphorically of course —attempting to draw out her intent. He is a distrusting man, that much was evident. However he wasn't dissuade by her. He didn't seem to mind her odd features. He understood what it was liked to be looked at differently. His rounded ears, and almost perfect human-esque form lended him to be the object of attention in different social circles he partook in. He remembered days when he and his mentor participated in high society functions,. Henryk was an object of people's intrigue. _Half-Human._ A desirable specimen among those wishing to learn humanity's secrets.**\n\n**He maintained his aloof demeanour, but, he was giving her an inch, and wanted to see if she'd run a mile with what he gave her. His better judgment told him to flat out decline her, but, this being of nature would save him the troubles of having to forage through this forest any longer. Getting to a more desirable place faster was enticing to him— he had a room back in Wayfinder's Rest. Then, after the night, he had the intention to make his way back to Findara's Capital assuming no hiccups were met along the way.**\n\n**He waited on the Fae's answer. His body hadn't turned to face her, only his head cocked to look at her. His icy blue eyes piercing towards her. The Doctor was patient, he had to deal with the injured and sick all the time. However the faster business is dealt with, the sooner he can get to _other_ works.**"
}
] | 459 | 1,151 |
516 | 2023-03-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "**He finally would turn his body to fully face her. He had this inquisitive gaze to his face, questioning the very notion that she just wanted to _help._ Henryk had curled his lips a bit, visibly in thought, before letting out a huff, and a sigh. He would move a hand to his satchel before revealing a bag, then revealing a pipe.**\n\n\"Okay, Ms. Midelia, if you insist.\" **Henryk had opened his bag up to reveal some tobacco. He'd stuff it into the bowl of the wooden pipe, before stowing the bag away. Henryk brought out a box of matches, taking one, then lighting it up to cast its embers into the pipe, igniting the tobacco.**\n\n**It smouldered, and Henryk would inhale the smoke through his pipe before exhaling it. Seems he needed to edge off some of his stress and just relax.** \"I'm currently low on Worm Wood and Dittany. They're two ingredients I use to create my healing remedies. I've checked over some of the usual stops they grow at, but, to no avail.\" **He paused, taking another draw from his pipe, before he continued.** \"Once I have those two ingredients, I'll be satisfied to leave for the day.\" **Smoke rolled out from between his lips after speaking his dialogue. He shut his eyes for a moment. Henryk was reluctant to allow this stranger to assist him, especially since they wanted nothing in return, but he would have to admit that she maybe useful here in this situation.**\n\n**He'd take a few more inhalations of his pipe, before dropping the ashes onto the ground. He'd crush them beneath his feet, ensuring to not start a fire. He put his pipe away, the doctor looking to Midelia.** \"Now then.\" **He would take slight paces towards her, unabated by those sharp claws and that head tilt. Despite being half-human, a more fragile species, he didn't see her as a immediate threat. He body language lended itself to be slightly eerie, but Henryk wouldn't be easily bothered— no, he was incredibly desensitized after what horrors he has witnessed already. Once paced closer to her, around 7-5 feet from her, he would beckon one more question.** \"How do you propose you assist me?\" \n\n**He'd give those piercing eyes once more, seeking yet another answer.**"
},
{
"author": "Midelia Protunshast",
"message": "```A sense of relief would wash over Midelia as she didn't expect the strange human to remain or even listen to what the fae-spirit had to say. The forced smile on her face turning into a more genuine one as she looks at him, allowing him to come closer and show the contents of his bag. Albeit a sense of disgust would also follow as she sees him take a pipe and begin to smoke, the smell of fire and the look of it would not be a pleasant reminder of Midelia's past as for a moment she trembles. She would compose herself as she takes a moment to breath in.```\n\n**Aah those ingredients are a bit harder to find here but well i-i can h-help you in an other way if yo-you do not wish to walk that far.**\n\n```Would be said as her soft voice breaks the silence for a bit she would move a bit closer but still keep her distance as she extends her arm outwards to the direction of Henryk at first it might be considered an aggressive move if it was not for the slow speed at which the dryad does it. Revealing her branch like arm covered in a few phoenix-coloured autumn like leaves, a few sharp points on her arm almost like smaller twigs extending from it with the occasional small leave or moss on it. Yet the arm itself would be rather smooth for a bark that is. It would all in all be a strange experience if it was just that but the fae would break the awkwardness as she speaks again in her soft voice, a bit more staggering and general uncomfortableness hailing from the fae this time.```\n\n**My-my kind has the.. Ab-ability to grow plan-plants and fruits upon our bodies. It-it has its uses.**"
},
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "**At first skeptical, those outreached hands had him take a step back, but soon he'd be witness the growths upon her body. There it was. Dittany and Worm Wood, both produced just for the doctor to collect. Henryk's eyes widen a bit, neutral expression still but it was evident he was surprised by this development. Hours of work reduced to minutes of growing. The gentleman would let out another soft sigh, before those cold lips of his edged into the slightest of smiles. His eyes softened a bit, that cold piercing gaze would warm up a bit. She was saving him much trouble.**\n\n**Henryk would open his satchel and reveal a scalpel.** \"May I?\" **He would ask, looking to extract the plants off of her body. He'd ask for permission first, as to not come off as rude or offensive.**\n\n**He didn't spare many other words, not yet. Should he thank her _now_ or after extraction? Further more, should he pay her for her generosity?**\n\n**The gentleman would meet his eyes to her own, examining the jade green eyes of hers. He didn't initially noticed them when examining her, but, now that he was close he could herald their beauty. As per her fae heritage, it was as though nature was caught within her irises. The jade eyes reminding him of a sunny summer day within a forest, the leaves off the trees providing shade from the heat.**\n\n**Henryk was ready to collect, but, only on her call. He stood there with some anticipation. Part of him wanted to get this over and done with, but the other more human side of him wanted to indulge this fae more— if this wasn't a trap, and a true act of charity, he will want to pay that in return.**\n\n**Henryk would draw closer to her now, having brought his scalpel up to begin the extraction process. The sharp blade would gently cut against the small leaves and its various stems. He began with the Worm Wood, harvesting it from her outreached arm. He shaved her of the plant, smoothing her arms out once again. He'd reveal a jar, and he would deposit it within it. Henryk collected his first bounty, and next he would go towards her inner-arm, as he began cutting away the Dittany. They were closer— one may say _intimate_ now. This was an intimate situation between strangers. They were very literally in arm's reach of one another, and if either of them truly had ill intent, now was the time to strike.**\n\n**That time never came.**\n\n**Henryk pulled back, having filled his jars with Dittany and Worm Wood. He put his scalpel away, his eyes no longer meeting her own, shifted to the side.** \". . . Thank you.\" **Was all he could muster, before looking back to her with those pale blue eyes of his.** \". . . Your generosity is appreciated— please, allow me to reward you for it.\" **He would dig his hand onto his satchel, hand shifting around, before finally revealing something. A small bottle, filled with approximately 30mL of this clear liquid. When the sun struck against it, it'd glisten and shine. He would out reach it towards the Fae, offering for her to take it.**\n\n\"An emergency salve of mine. Apply the solution to any open wounds you've suffered. It should seal them shut effective and immediate.\" **Henryk would explain.** \"I'm a Doctor by trade. I don't tend to give these out freely. Use it wisely.\" **He'd say. A hand moved to grip the strap of his satchel, taking a pace back.** \"This is the least I can do for you, Ms. Midelia. It is... Appreciated.\"\n\n**He was slow and articulate in these words— reluctant even. He wasn't particularly use to a stranger's kindness. He's use to functioning independently, without assistance lest it be from a competent benefactor, like his old mentor.**\n\n**He stood there, his eyes dragged away from her own as he looked to the ground. Now he was in thought again.**"
},
{
"author": "Midelia Protunshast",
"message": "```As he has collected what he came here for he would back up Midelia's face would breath a sigh of relief and at the same time would be a bit dissapointed it all ended so soon. She would turn her arm around as she observes it, it seemed fine he was very delicate a lucky thing. She would lower her arm and put it behind her back, holding the other there as well she would observe what Henryk does this time. Her phoenix coloured leaves moving with the slight breeze as be pulls out some sort of elixir and offers it to her.```\n\n**A-ah no thanks Henryk spare that for somebody that needs help. I myself am quite the expert in m-more natural ways of healing oneself and mostly with the use of bio-biomancy, so i do not really require it. Just promise me that you'll use it w-well.**\n\n```The stutters would be mostly gone as her quiet voice would speak, clearly she grown more comfortable in his presence. Yet she could not accept his offer it would be against her nature and her expertise, she has handled herself well enough alone with her own talents but perhaps her talents could use some refining. She would breath in and as a smile pops up on her face, a genuine one. One which would be followed by an offer of her own, her soft voice offering Henryk a question.```\n\n**You s-said you were a doctor? I am not experienced with more civ- civilized forms of medicine, maybe you could h-help me learn some more about it?**"
}
] | 436 | 2,064 |
399.142857 | 2023-03-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "<< \n\n**Now in the forest,**\n\n**Henryk's eyes returned to the Dryad's own. She was larger then him to say the least. She couldn't quiet fit in this cart, but, they made do. He wondered if she was heavier then him, or if her larger frame was actually deceptively light. He didn't comment on her appearance, not once since they met he made any sort of remark towards her physique. He didn't care. They were both individuals— he himself was often marvelled at. He understood what it was like to be looked at underneath a lens. To be vivisected by the eyes of strangers.**\n\n**He gave way for Midelia to comment on what he said thus far. They were conversing. It was a time killer. He'd give her a surface level view of his life, but, he would keep his skeletons locked deep within.**"
},
{
"author": "Midelia Protunshast",
"message": "```She would think about what he said, not even having the funding to deal with the lower classes? Ah the first inadequacy of \"Civilized\" Medicine she thought to herself, the methods seemed quite expensive if not even your average lad could afford it. Midelia would think of a response to this and eventually her mind would produce one. Her mouth opening as she stares Henryk in the eyes, her awkward way of moving and looking would match his.```\n\n**S-so you struggle to help everybody? I-i did not ex-expect that really.**\n\n```A comment was all the dryad could really muster as she had nothing really to say on it for now, in her mind she would be a tad bit disappointed, as with her forms of medicine and her own natural abilities there would be no such problems. While herbal medicine on it's own is often weak with the usage of her magical talents and a few other more methods taken from the fae realm itself, the fae-spirit would not have to worry much about lacking the needed resources. Perhaps she would share this with him? For now tho she'd rather keep the more detailed and complicated parts of it all to herself.```\n\n**Yo-you how long have you been doing this?**\n\n```A question from herself, while she would be content with just sitting here and waiting their arrival it would be quite an awkward ride then. So she amused Henryk's attempts at socializing or well pseudo-attempts if she could read his true intentions, her voice would stutter noticeably less. While it's still obvious she isn't exactly super comfortable, she would be a lot more laid back then before.```"
},
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "\"I only struggle because there are _so many_ people.\" **Henryk responded rather simply, taking yet another draw of smoke from his pipe. The smoke rolling from his mouth after a couple of seconds of festering between his lips.** \"The population of Findara is within the _thousands_ if not more. Meanwhile, there are only so few Biomancers— let alone _Alchemists_ in the world.\" **The Doctor let out a sigh. This topic made him feel awfully pessimistic. To think of how many people need helping— he wished he could treat them all. But alas, it is a futile dream. One that was within the realm of impossibility.**\n\n\"I've been learning the 'Healing Arts' since I was around. . . 13 or 14 years old. I'm _23_ now, so, approximately 10 years or so.\" **Henryk would reveal.** \"I practiced under supervision of my mentor, but, by the time I was 17 I was autonomous at that point.\" **The gentleman would lean deeper into his seat, getting comfortable.** \"What about you? You're a Biomancer, no? How long have you practiced, Ms. Midelia?\" **Henryk shifted the conversation towards her now. He didn't want to be the centre of attention— it was also a deliberate ploy as to not get into too much depth about his _mentor._ There was a slight taste of disgust in his mouth when thinking about the old man. He had many fond memories of him, yes, but in recent years things have gone sour.**\n\n**Besides, he was curious of the Dryad. He wanted to learn a bit more of the 'Natural Medicines'. He hoped, perhaps, he would be able to take something useful for her— perhaps his grievances could be rectified with her insight.**\n\n**He took yet another draw of smoke. He hasn't realized that the Dryad found it disgusting yet. This was one of _his_ vices. Smoking helped calm him— truth is, he is a highly stressed individual.**\n\n**He listened to what she had to share.**"
},
{
"author": "Midelia Protunshast",
"message": "```A slight chuckle would exit Midelia as she didn't expect Henryk to be this young, albeit a look of impression would appear on her. He did seemed to have quite the talent and willingness to help those who require it a precious trait, one which must be nurtured in Midelia's eyes. Her soft voice would speak again to comment upon his statements, her jade eyes would remain locked on his as it seems she adore eye contact in such situations.```\n\n**Ah you se-see i am quite old in reality, 257 Lucidien years. Not tha-that old for one of my kind tho.**\n\n```She would breath in a couple of times as she straightens herself attempting to make her current sitting position more comfortable, her hands would be by her side providing her with some support. The long autumn-leaves that would masquerade as her hair would be resting upon her arm and thighs as she gets ready to respond to the young biomancer again.```\n\n**I have been pra-practicing it most my life. It's th-the only school i've given attention to re-really.** \n\n```Noticing that the conversation was shifting more towards her she would try to find a middle ground to discuss upon, for a moment she would be silent thinking before something snapper to her head and her quiet voice would speak again.```\n\n**Yo-you see i adore helping those who need it, tha-that should really be the only usa-usage of biomancy and we-well medical knowledge. Do-do you not agree?**\n\n```A slight look of disgust on her face would be noted due to the smoke hitting her, she did not like this at all but would do her best to keep herself calm. It was only smoke no fire or anything dangerous like that, rather quickly she would compose herself and faint a slight smile as she awaits a response from the young yet eager biomancer. In all matter of fact there wasn't much Midelia could learn from him outside seeing how the city-dwellers deal with medicine, yet that is all she really wanted and perhaps she could even impart some knowledge with Henryk.```"
},
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "\"I agree.\" **Henryk nodded his head.** \"Medicine _should_ be used for the longevity of one's life. A sick child may one day become a country's greatest general. Preservation of life is the School of the Healer's motto, anyways.\" **The young doctor noted her slight flare of disgust— the smoke hitting her face accidentally. The gentleman would promptly smother the smoke and dump the ashes over the carriage.** \"Apologies.\" **Henryk would say, feeling slightly embarrassed that smoke had been breezing up against the Dryad's face.** \n\n\"257 years old.\" **He would repeat.** \"You've eclipsed my lifetime multiple times as is. With the way you carry yourself, I would've sworn you were my age— or younger.\" **Henryk would comment.** \"Would you consider yourself a _young soul,_ Midelia?\" **Henryk would ask. It was a seemingly random question, but, a question nonetheless.** \n\n**The gentleman stowed his pipe and tobacco away. He would refrain from smoking the rest of the ride, coming to grasp that maybe a Dryad wouldn't appreciate to be caught around someone who smoked. He didn't come off as shocked, only a little surprised that her age was as advanced as she claimed it to be. Perhaps she was just an incredibly nervous person, or sheltered. He wondered if she had any children— maybe even a husband? But, for some reason, he doubted that. The way she carried herself didn't leave that impression.**\n\n**Eyes met with hers again. Maintaining eye contact this time. Studying. Those were indeed an interest set of eyes she had. They gave him the impression she was a 'youthful' individual. Despite her advanced age in contrast to his, she did claim she was young for her species. It gave Henryk a clue that in this world, his life was a simple _breath_ in the larger scheme of things. A motivator for him to leave his mark.**\n\n**He pondered how far he could take Biomancy. Maybe there'll be a day he could concoct an immortality elixir? Would he even _want_ that sort of longevity?**\n\n**His mind went astray. He focused back onto the conversation at hand.**"
},
{
"author": "Midelia Protunshast",
"message": "```She would nod at his apologies, adjust herself a bit more to the left as to avoid the smoke hopefully, she would look upwards to the sun for a moment revealing more of her bark and what seems to be rather sturdy neck. The fae would stretch a bit, the sound of wood creaking heard quite clearly almost like a tree falling over. She would answer his coming question while continuing to look at the sun.```\n\n**Ah qu-quite so my ki-kind usually lives till they are 600 if not 700 years, of co-course with the rig-right magics that cam be extended even more.**\n\n```She would look down and stare him in the eye again as she ponders for an answer, she wasn't really certain if she was a young soul anymore. Midelia was very much aware of her own flaws and issues and how she might act much more younger then her age shows.```\n\n**Ah- sort of? I-i am young but ah perhaps for you i am ancient.**\n\n```Would be all she could really say in response to the rather strange question, she would sit there awkwardly for a bit obersving Henryk in his more casual attire a bit more. She would speak again as to attempt to continue the conversation, as to not fall into awkwardness.```\n\n**Di-did you think i was much younger?**"
},
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "\"Lets just say you have a _young soul_ in my opinion.\" **Was what Henryk responded.** \"Those who I consider as _elders_ usually have a sense of maturity and assuredness to themselves. You, on the other hand, appear to be a nervous being.\" **The young doctor pointed out.** \"Perhaps I shouldn't judge one based off their age, but, undeniably you've likely experienced far more than I ever have.\" **He maintained that eye contact with her. There seemed to be an emphasis at looking at one's eyes. It's said it's the gateway to one's soul— that the eyes reveal all intentions. She had frantic eyes. Nervous ones at that. Was she scared, uncomfortable, or perhaps felt inadequate in a way? No, she was probably just uncomfortable with the current circumstances. She was a fish out of water. Someone who was outside their usual element.**\n\n\"I've only received a taste of this world, compared to you.\" **He broke eye contact to look at the trees pass by as the carriage hauled the two along the road.** \"My life is but a eye blink to others. It's... Frightening to say the least. One morning to you, I am but 23 years old. The next, I lie in my death bed while you still have many years ahead of you.\" **He'd shut his eyes, sighing softly.** \"I've accepted that though— or at least try not to think about it too deeply. I still have time to make a difference in the lives of others. That's what matters to me, anyways. Making that difference.\" **Henryk would have this melancholic gaze to him as he viewed the scenery around them. He hadn't realized it, but, he opened himself up a bit there. Life and death— two prominent aspects of his life that always taunt him. What lives he saved, and the lives he couldn't. The constant expectation to be able to cure the needy and the meek— to engineer miracles in his laboratory. His life was stressful. He was always thinking of how to brew the next best healing solution— always calculating the correct ratios of ingredients in his blends.**\n\n**As he stared out, he remembered the smoke. The smell of crimson rolling into his nose. Those battlefields he fought on— the soldiers he failed to save still cling onto him desperately as he couldn't do anything to save them. Henryk was marked with the black taint of death.**\n\n**Compared to Midelia, he had an _Aged Soul._ Old, despite such a smaller lifetime.**\n\n**His thoughts lingered on this for a moment, before finally snapping out of his daze. He opened himself too much. He would attempt to reserve himself some more— this was a guest, not his therapist. She needn't not know the deeper details of his life. To know his inner-machinations. His fears.**\n\n**He looked at her again. It was evident that his gears were turning at the moment. Thoughts continued to linger.**"
}
] | 437 | 2,794 |
513.333333 | 2023-03-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "\"Somewhat similar I suppose to what I do. Most medicine is made _from_ nature.\" **Henryk would nod his head.** \"I use herbs too. I often find myself either making a powdered mixture for one to consume orally, or I take a series of plants and concentrate them into a liquid format to inject directly into their veins— all with the assistance of _alchemy_ to synthesize and enhance their properties. Like you described. Our methods aren't so different. Though, these days, I find myself using _other_ means to produce what I need.\" **He paused, looking at the Dryad, knowing what he'll say next may shock or even disgust the creature in front of him.** \"For more _powerful_ solutions, I find myself using the organs of recently diseased animals.\" **He would place it rather simply— he knew that sudden drop of information may shock the dryad.** \"Covering mostly surface level details, as I will reveal to you my laboratory soon enough and explain in finer details how my medication is made, utilizing the Laws of Equivalent Exchange, I have learned how to turn animal organs into medical solutions. A cow's liver can easily become a tincture to remedy poisons— same with the kidneys. The heart can be synthesized into a injectable liquid, capable of increasing one's blood supply if they're suffering from bleeding and open wounds— even broken bones can be healed with Parathyroid glands, promoting an increase in bone growth. This, paired with medicine found in plants, can create powerful tinctures— they take time and precision to make, but, I have found much success.\" **He'd pause yet again to allow Midelia to consume this information— this disgusting revelation that this doctor used such macabre methods to create _powerful_ salves.**\n\n**The doctor maintained _long_ eye contact, those cold eyes now danced with fire as he thought about what he has pioneered thus far. His salves and mixtures— his _modern medicine_ was a constantly growing field. He wanted to explain every detail of his machinations to her, but, he reserved himself for the laboratory. He would breakdown these every details, show her the process of how he synthesized his injections. He was in the presence of another healer, and now desired more than ever to show the validity of his work— to prove to himself that his methods are indeed the future.**"
},
{
"author": "Midelia Protunshast",
"message": "```The fae would be quiet upon the relevation as she processes what he has said, is this man butchering animals and other creatures all for some sick twisted medical gain or growth? No that can't be he must be joking. A face of unease would appear on the dryad as she continues to process the thought, while she herself is no stranger to the usage of animal materials in medical processes. There is a limit and there are lines that are simply not crossed, her jade eyes would lock onto his cold and rather dark eyes.```\n\n**I-i hope you do no-not kill animals for this Geladrial would disagree, it-it is natural to use animals to aid others but all co-comes at a price. Taking a life to save an oth-other is a foolish thing, using what parts remain of a death animal yes th-that works.**\n\n```Her internal processes would be confused as she tried to really make sense of all of this, while she has seen many more rural and tribal folks use animal parts in the usage of medical experiments. Henryk seemed to be a pioneer in this aspect of medicine, an aspect which in all honesty is it much better to hers? Midelia doubts it she hasn't found something she can't work on and improve with her healing methods. His more \"Civilized\" Methods seemed almost barbaric but at the same time so natural, for does her god not pleasure himself in the hunt? Hunting down animals and using every part for good is admirable it's how it should be, the gifts nature provides should not be put to waste not a singular part.```\n\n**B-but i do see the l-logic in using ev-every part of the animal onc-once it is slain, alb-albeit i hope the animal goes peacefully yes?**\n\n```Her stance would relax from it's previous tense state, as she takes time to think and reflect upon his statements and looks in the factory that is her mind for a response for an answer to his machinations. Is he the odd one out or is he perhaps one of many who use these methods? Midelia wasn't sure, his methods to her did seem a lot more cruel than what she is used to but perhaps it is nothing too bad is it. The dryad would stutter for a few moments as she forms her response more clearly, and finally Midelia's quiet voice would speak again.```\n\n**Y-your methods, they seem unnatural b-but at the same time i-i can't say i'm a stranger to them. Many including myself often use the gifts animals provide us with that is only natural and grateful to the gods, using every bit-bit of a slain animal to ones benefit. A-as long as the anim-animal does not suffer and di-die needlessly. I-i mys-myself often find myself using bear bile from a deceased bear to ai-aid in treating i-it with the aid of magical enhancement has anti-inflam-inflammatory effects.**\n\n```She would go silent for a bit, not sure if she should continue. To the fae respecting animals is important but she fully understands the needs and requirements of other beings to hunt animals for their own survival, her very patron god does it himself. Using everything these animals provide is only natural she has seen it quite a few times in many villages with their folk traditions, she just hopes Henryk is not too deranged on this...```"
},
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "\"The animal parts I use are given to me from the local butcher. The pieces I ask for would go to waste otherwise.\" **Henryk responded.** \"I don't have the skills of a huntsmen— others bring me what I need. Any game hunted or cattle slaughtered are done so in, a presumably, _humane_ way.\" **Henryk would assure her.** \"I would be lying if I said utilizing organs is an inferior method— no, it _is_ a superior method I find. I find animals such as cows have stronger organs to that of smaller animals like chickens. It appears the bigger the animal is, and the stronger immune system it has, the stronger concoctions that are yielded.\" **The young doctor would further explain.** \"I learned this practice from my mentor, and he learned it from the _Vitruvia_ Sect of Healer School Alchemy. The Laws of Equivalent Exchange are rather defined and pronounced under these teachings— they're a core part of Vitruvian Teachings.\" \n\n**He continued to look at the woman— perhaps he was a bit deranged. A necessary amount of macabre thinking is required to excel in one's field of study. To test the limits of what is possible is how one yields great results.**\n\n\"I apologize if this is... _Demented,_ Midelia. However, this is information I reveal to a few people. I find my clients too would find the use of once living beings to cure their afflictions to be disturbing— the healing arts are not as _pure_ as one may think. They are dark too. However it is a necessary darkness to heal the meek and weary. I hope you understand.\""
}
] | 496 | 1,540 |
725.2 | 2022-01-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Zelyvia",
"message": "Zelyvia and Shynoata had already settled into a corner booth of the Wayfarer tavern after making sure the elf was stocked for her journey. The tiefling chose this particular area during the morning hours so they could not only see the door but any chatter was easily overheard. Streams of sunlight from the windows bathing the patrons with enough light the candles were left unlit. There's a dull humm of conversation ranging from friends conversing about their personal business, this she was paying extra close attention to, the rest were either nursing hangovers or games being played by sailors enjoying their shore leave. A few flyers on the wall of a missing family member stood out among a board with plenty of other jobs for would-be adventurers or those looking for fame. These she had taken note of along with each curious individual leafing through them. None striking her interest enough as of yet to approach them outright as both women silently waited for the one that'd lead Shy through the swamps. An agreement from the informant to pay for the expedition as the Healer was an asset, an investment into the young lass's organization for the price of keeping The Cēnara off her back in exchange for potions and services without question.\n\nZelyvia had chosen to keep her hood drawn over her features, only her horns were outlined in sharp wavy contrast along the sides of her head beneath the black thick cloth that kept her for the most part hidden in the shadowed corner of the room. Only her light blue and pink tipped strands of hair spilled over the lapels from her slightly bowed head, pink eyes surveying the room of \"Hardened\" Individuals while keeping an eye out for the guide. Rylkyn wasn't going to be cheap, but from what she'd gathered through the contacts here he was worth the weight of coin she was investing in this excursion. Waiting patiently for him on her side with a mug of mead held between her gloved hands."
},
{
"author": "Shynoata Parfedhellen",
"message": "Unlike the calm lass across from her, the elf had her hood withdrawn so it'd be easier to spot them both. Her long ebony locks plated in thick braids that disappeared beneath her light brown cloak. Shy was picking at some of the goat cheese, fruits, and vegetables on a plate in front of her. Occasionally sneaking one of the vegetables inside of her cloak which Bramble was more than happy to quickly pull into the small burrow of a pocket in her coat. Her sharp but fair mocha elven features made her somewhat easy to spot despite the slightly darkened area they were residing. There wasn't a conversation going between the women, Shynoata was thankful for small miracles as she steeled her nerves to both converse and travel with someone she didn't know on her own. If not for her debt she'd probably take the bounty from the board herself. Use the small network of those thankful for her service to find a party within her control, but alas this came first. Fungus were easy enough to locate, yet it was only in Blackwater that one in particular assisted in blood flow and longevity. The other more poisonous one for Zelyvia was less on her priority list despite her appearing to agree to the request in full. Herself, pouring over a small book of plants that she may want from the area while she was there. Lost in this instead of everything around her, while thin long fingers kept her passage between bites."
},
{
"author": "Zelyvia",
"message": "It didn't take too long for another to grab her attention, his tall well built frame beneath his armor stood out among those that'd looked over the flyers thus far. A long healed cut along the side of his cheek was visible for a short period of time before he took it from the wall itself. Another still remained behind it, but the determination in his eyes is what brought a faint smirk to her light green painted lips. Zelyvia new better than to wait for Shy to notice when she was in a form of zone. Let Rylkyn find the elf first, watching her stutter would be entertaining for the tiefling and since she'd already acquired a guide to the swamps it'd make it more challenging for the kindness of the elf to back out in any way. Besides, Biomancers were difficult enough to come by.\n\nWhenever Hawk approached someone in regards to finding out how to accept the contract is when she finally placed the mead onto the table. Slowly sliding out of her seat to keep her hood from lifting any, she knew full well that a tiefling here would raise suspicion to a degree if she seemed too careful. Keeping her head slightly bowed, her 5'3\" Height was likely easier to overlook as she slipped beside Hawk. Full black well used leather armor at least showed some competence that she wasn't just some floozy trying to gain attention. Adding a soft purr to her voice so soften the sharp aspect of it as she leaned into the bar next to him. **\"If you're heading that way and need a guide you're in luck.\"**\n_ _\n\nShe lifted her hand to shake his, if he took it her grip was firm, if he didn't or eyed her suspiciously she lowered it with a light shrug of her shoulders as she continued. **\"I guess an introduction is in order first isn't it? You may call me Indicis.\"** Zelyvia bowed slightly while raising her right hand over chest. **\"I'm only here as sort of an emissary to my friend.\"** The tiefling turned and waved towards Shy still nose first in her book completely oblivious to literally everything happening right now. **\"Her name is Shynoata, a biomancer. If this person is lost it stands to reason they're likely injured. I'd go myself, but I have business elsewhere that requires my attention. If you'd be so kind as to join her I'd appreciate it greatly. Shy was looking at this flyer in particular before we took our seats. I can vouch for her skill and if need be offer you more money for her protection. She's a valuable ally.\"**\n\nWaiting patiently for his answer, she canted her head high enough her pink eyes held his gaze almost imploring him for the assistance. Light blue skin that marked her for a tiefling if her blue and pink strands of hair didn't already. Zelyvia hoped this was enough to convince him, rugged and handsome though he may be there was a hint of danger to how he held himself. She'd kept her posture calm and relaxed despite this the whole time, hoping that she was hitting the nail on the head that someone kind enough to take up that poster would also have the chivalry to assist with an addition to more money. The guide himself having arrived by now had been standing over the table by the elf for at least a few seconds."
},
{
"author": "Shynoata Parfedhellen",
"message": "Shy had been too absorbed in the variety of plant species to realize someone had walked over to the table. Leafing through the booklet and placing small shreds of paper between pages of fungus, molds, and weeds that were impossible to obtain elsewhere. Her gray eyes filled with a mixture of hope, determination, and sense of giddiness until a cleared throat beside her made the lass freeze. As if she was caught looking up the worst of pornographic material, the lass quickly shoved every small piece of paper she had shredded into where she was and hastily closed the book. Sending all of these flying towards her in a waft of slightly yellowed paper scraps.\n\nEmbarrassed, her mocha cheeks darkened a faint sheen of pink as she looked up towards the lad standing there expectantly. It was only age that saved her from bumbling like an idiot immediately, her tone was level and calm despite the beginning stutter. **\"H-hello. You must be the guide.\"** She looked across the table hoping Zelyvia would be there, but the color easily faded from her face as she noticed her compatriot wasn't there. Turning in her seat and looking around the room in panic for a second until she noticed the smaller lass speaking with someone else. A deep calming breath taken once she realized she wasn't left for both the bill and needing to explain why he was hired.\n_ _\n\nAfter a brief awkward second she lifted her hand towards the seat opposite of herself with a kind smile. **\"Please have a seat, Indicis will be back with both the money and an explanation for your summon here... Though I guess I can cover that.\"** Whether he remained standing or seated she quickly removed the book from the table and stuffed it into her bag. The sound of glass lightly tinkling next to each other is soft but easily heard with their space from the crowd. Still not looking in his direction she rambled a bit first, it was obvious she wasn't used to these types of meetings. **\"She's paying you so I can gather some supplies or ingredients for my potions. I dabble a bit in alchemy in my free time with a keen interest in healing. There's so many plants here that could create a remedy for so many ailments I can't even begin to.\"**\n_ _\n\nShy cut herself off while turning her attention back his direction, realizing she was rambling again as she tended to for anything that excited her. An apologetic bow as her right hand lightly rubbed the back of her neck, her left nervously gripping the lapels of her cloak. After another calming breath she sat up straight, withdrawing Bramble from her cloak and setting him on her knee so she could stroke his soft fur. **\"My apologies. My name is Shynoata, but most call me Shy for... I'm pretty sure you've guessed why.\"** Leaning back in her seat she lifted the small rabbit to her chest, Bramble eyeing the lad a bit while still munching on the bit of lettuce she handed him earlier. The movement of this opened her cloak. Intricate tattoos that seemed akin to henna that were lighter on her face were noticeable on her chest as well. These obviously extended to her fingers, but the cut and cloth of dress was light blue cotton for travel. A step up from the clothes of peasantry so he was aware the money he was offered wasn't for show. **\"S-she mentioned something about you needing information before accepting. What would you like to know that I can offer while we wait?"
},
{
"author": "Rylkyn Vrane",
"message": "Rylkyn was almost thankful for the small reprieve of the relative darkness of the Wayfarer Tavern. Even the candle and naturally lit interior was a mercy compared to the harsh sunlight of the day straining his eyes and causing a massive headache. While he promised himself he would never drink like last night again, he knew that it was only a matter of opportunity and a wicked hangover that stopped him from doing so now. Leaning into the wooden door of the tavern as it opened, Rylk still remembered to take his wide brimmed hat off while crossing indoors; he may have been raised in a hovel, but he still wasn't raised in a barn. Rylk's orange reddish eyes almost looked backlit by the dark lighting of the tavern, despite his pupils still constricting to try and mitigate the headache as much as possible. Braided white hair lightly swishing against his shoulder blades, small strands were pulled free from the loose tie by the fur lining the collar of the leather padding on his armor. A few were standing around the notice board in the tavern, a new batch of missing persons and property pinned up against the cork. So far, it all seemed business as usual for a town so close to the Blackwater. Which reminded him, he was here for work. Right, better sober up fast.\n-\n\nFrom what he remembered of the missive, he was supposed to meet some elf here, mocha skin and some tattoos for another expedition into the Blackwater for some herbs. Of course it had to be another elf, nearly half of his customers were always some variation of elf. He got that most Elves were fairly in tune with magic, but seriously just a bit more variety would be a breath of fresh air. Still, it didn't take long for him to find exactly who the missive described. Not like it was hard to see the tattoos from this distance, he'd seen wizards with an \"Artistic bent\" Produce less intricate patterns on a canvas than she had on just a fraction of her body. Not his style, but he couldn't help but respect the commitment, and it at least made her easy to find. Navigating the small crowd over to her table, his thick leather boots arhythmically thumping against the floorboards as he fought the crowd and his own lingering intoxication, Rylk finally made it to the chair opposite of his potential client. Sitting down much more heavily than he meant to, the small rings of mail sandwiched in between his armor's leather and padding mutely jingling as he righted himself, Rylk placed his hat on the far side of the table to his right just as the elf attempted to invite him to sit down.\n-\n\nEven with her soft uncertain voice, her words still felt like nails on a chalkboard inside Rylk's head. Fighting the urge to put his hat over his face to hide the light and lessen the headache, Rylk just dipped his head for a moment and held up a finger. \"Yes yes, I'm pretty sure I can piece together why you sent for me. Now please, indoor voice.\" With the same hand that he used to shush her, Rylk circled the air towards the small group that was gathering around the notice board. \"I assume one of those is your companion with the actual payment, yes? Fine, just tell me what you want to get out of this in the meantime.\" Listening to her begin to ramble on about medicinal herbs, Rylk's headache started to abate slightly as his mind became preoccupied flipping through his internal catalog of the various herbs he'd been collecting in the swamp throughout the years for various clients. Sadly enough, disturbingly little of his clientele ever asked for explicitly medicinal materials, most demanding the more volatile of reactants.\n-\n\nSeeing Bramble hop out onto her lap, Rylk couldn't help but flick his eyes down at the furry little creature, the tiny mass in the leather bag hanging from his shoulders shuffling as the tiny creature inside smelled another animal. Quilliam popped his snout out of the bag, some of his quills escaping the confines of the bag as well as his nose bobbed to sniff out the rabbit. Lightly pushing his hand down to the top of the bag, Rylk attempted to entice Quilliam to go back to sleep in his bag. While the hedgehog did retreat for a moment, he immediately popped his head back up in front of Rylk's hand. After three more repetitions of the exact same process, Rylk let out a small sigh as he gave out and allowed the little rodent to sniff around, from the edge of his carrying bag.\n-\n\nTrying to turn his attention away from his rebellious rodent, Rylkyn looked back up at the tattooed elf as she introduced herself. \"Well, Shy does seem fitting now doesn't it? I'm Rylk'' Leaning forward towards the table, causing the hedgehog to finally make a break from his carrying bag, scurrying up the leather strap and mail of Rylk's armor to rest on the fur of his collar, Rylk started to turn over his usual spiel in his head. \"Don't mind him. Let's get down to business then, Shy. I'll start off with what I tell every prospective client of mine. First, the nature of the Blackwater being what it is means that things out of everyone's control happen sometimes. You are not paying for the guarantee that anything will come from this expedition, you are paying for the expertise to give you better odds of something coming out of it. So don't toss a fit and get us both killed if the swamp decides today's a bad day and lets Infernum loose on us. Second, do not take offense if I need to be rough with you. You are paying me to guide you through the swamp, it is a dangerous place where acting like an idiot will likely get us both killed. If I share some harsh language to get your attention or pull you away from the path of some particularly pissed off creatures, then it is not personal. I just don't particularly feel like dying so soon. So please don't expedite that process. Third, we will not go into the deep swamp. What you are promising for payment will get you the outskirts and maybe to the mid swamp with some extra incentive. But, the deep swamp is not somewhere you go because you want to. It would cost you much much more and, frankly, I can promise absolutely nothing there. If you want to try your luck, feel free but I will turn my happy ass right back around and go have a pint while you get yourself killed. If you're ok with that, then we'll get along about as well as you expect.\n-\n\nReturning to his normal sitting position, Rylk reached up to pull Quilliam from his collar, the short legs of the hedgehog flailing a bit before he placed him back inside of his bag to sleep. \"So\" He stated with a small incline of his head, \"You say you're looking for medicinal materials. Tell me what kinds you had in mind. It'll help me narrow down where we can start so we don't spend an entire day just getting to the right area.\""
}
] | 698 | 3,626 |
439.333333 | 2022-02-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Shynoata Parfedhellen",
"message": "She continued to listen thoroughly to both his impromptu rant and his take on the missing person. Shy knew too well from her experience a bit north in the southern reaches of Kandagulu just how dangerous this area was. A decade, though not long for their species, told more than enough of the dangers this world had in store for the unprepared. The elf had learned the classifiable evil uses of Hemomancy back then as equally as the healing qualities of what most considered dark magic. Something she hoped would not have to be repeated when it seemed at first that Rylklyn wasn't going to accept the possibility of helping the missing lad. It'd definitely place them all in grave peril, but to the lass bringing closure to family or friends was more important than her own safety. Too few in the world cared for the well being of those around them if it wasn't going to bring them profit. As an ex slave Shynoata refused to be like any of these no matter the consequences.\n\nAthen and Hawk were still listening at this point, however the elf reacted to the bunny he quickly fled back to Shy's lap. Her fingers absentmindedly stroking his ears as he nuzzled into her palm for comfort. The disappointment in her expression shifted to a nearly gleeful grin for a moment when the drow agreed to at least search around the plants she needed. A small step, but if he could find any trail that could feasibly mark the lost soul she'd follow it alone on another day if need be. About to speak any form of joy on her fair features dropped to shock. The lass quickly recomposing herself by looking down towards the plate of food she'd offered them all and hastily popped a few fruits into her mouth. This probably wasn't going to go well."
},
{
"author": "Zelyvia",
"message": "She'd just managed to request for the person who posted for the missing person to be brought towards the table they were all settled in whenever they could when the sound of snapping made Zelyvia turn her head. There was no way that could be aimed at her, but whoever it was for was likely going to be tomorrow's gossip. It wasn't information others would pay for, but whatever they were going to discuss might be. That's when she recognized it was the guide and he was indeed calling *Her* Over. The tiefling kept herself in check by closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before swiftly returning towards the table. Her short stature made the haste of her return somewhat surprising to many, though the expression she wore was one of good humor deep down she was fuming for the audacity of how he called her back.\n\nStanding back at the table, she glanced towards the group of four while Rylkyn bombarded her with the moral implications of her request. Zelyvia doesn't cut him off despite the slightly raised tone he admonished her in, instead she leaned forward while gripping the edge of the table so that her own voice doesn't travel far. Keeping it even toned with a hint of humor despite how she actually felt. **\"I'd normally say it takes more than two fingers to make me come, but given the implications of your request I made an exception.\"** Tapping the bottom of the table with her thumb, the lass lifted the oversized hood she wore enough to reveal exactly what she was. Light blue skin with light makeup easily noted in the lighting of the room, her bright fuschia eyes flicking between each in turn, and the outline of her wavy horns was more than enough for any to mark what she was without even seeing her tail.\n_ _\n\nBe it this, the remarks from Rylkyn, or the blatant conversation involving poison the other two who were looking at the poster hastily left the table. **\"It must be our charms.\"** She sighed slightly from the reaction she was used to by now, Zelyvia pulled the hood back down over her face. Taking a seat next to the guide both to keep the conversation at the table and to make it a bit more difficult for him to squirrel away too as the reached for the mead by Shy. Without missing a beat once the other two left ear shot she continued. **\"I doubt anything I tell you would ease your conscience or at the very least be believed since you know what I am. As someone that's likely had similar circumstances from your genes I'll just comfort you with the knowledge it isn't for you in the slightest. A woman needs her protection and how else can a cure if not detecting this one specifically be accomplished without a sample?\"**\n\nShe leaned back in her chair now, turning her head enough he can see the light reflecting off of her eyes as the lass is much more nonchalant in demeanor than he likely thought she'd be. Taking a brief pause she sipped at her mead."
},
{
"author": "Shynoata Parfedhellen",
"message": "**\"That is why agreed outside of other reasons I just... Don't know you well enough to discuss. No offense.\"** Shy rubbed the back of her neck on the last portion while lowering head in apology. **\"I'm not in any of this for the money, so if it pleases you and we do find him you can have the 80 of an 80/20 split.\"** Her gray eyes glanced over to Zelyvia quick enough to notice her expression change for the fleeting moment it was there before stammering a bit. **\"I-I just want the family to have some peace of mind. It's what I'd want in their shoes.\"** Her lips rose in a light nervous thin lipped smile."
},
{
"author": "Zelyvia",
"message": "She nodded, well aware of Shy's nature which was quite stubborn when it came to the better good of others. **\"You're a horrible negotiator. That prize should more than make up for the danger you're placing yourself in, no? I'd say I'd go with you on both if not either of these, but I trust given your skill including what you're charging me up front means you're more than able to provide the protection and knowledge to keep you both alive. It's why I chose you specifically.\"** Well there was a couple more reasons, but she kept those to herself.\n\nShe only turned her head slightly towards anyone that approached if they matched the description the barkeep provided for the poster of the missing person."
},
{
"author": "Faelyth Duskryn",
"message": "The doors to the tavern opened once more, and in stepped a slender and curvy hooded figure dressed in all black. A mask covered her mouth, and strands of grey hair swayed across her forehead while the rest was hidden beneath her hood. A bounty poster was in her gloved hand, thought Faelyth would rather take on a bounty to hunt down a person rather than find a lost soul somewhere in a swamp. Being a Sister, she preferred the dirty work, but coin was short for the time being. The Wayfarer seemed busy today, but it was a tavern she had only ever found herself in one other time long ago. Eyeing around for the man who posted the missing person's notice, Faelyth rest her two colored eyes on a small party of individuals, and spotted a flyer just like the one she held between them.\n\nRolling her blue and yellow eyes, Faelyth debated in her mind whether or not to even continue with the bounty, but she needed the gold. If all else failed, she could kill them all once they had finished, let the others do the majority of the work. Squaring each of the individuals up, Faelyth let out a groan beneath her breath before sauntering over and taking a seat, though she didn't truly ask for one. Taking a seat next to the dark haired lass, Faelyth scanned her up and down, nearly leaning her dark grey face into her. **\"Seems we're all here for the same thing, huh?\" **Placing the flyer down upon the table over their's, Faelyth eyed the rest of the people at the table before sighing and instead looking over to the tiefling, her eyes scanning the blue figure up and down rather slowly, but not in a hateful way. **\"So, how are you all splitting the gold hm? I'd hope evenly, would hate to drag a body back from the swamps only to receive a tenth, wouldn't you, love?\"**\n.\n\nDragging her eyes up and down the dark haired woman once more, there was an obvious smirk beneath the dark elf's mask, and as she rested her gaze upon the woman, a snake slithered out from her hood and flicked its tongue the woman's way. **\"Name's Faelyth, though I'm more curious about *Yours*.\"** It was obvious the dark elf was trying to gauge the rest of the party, especially the ever so innocent looking woman she was currently flirting with. The snake, Faelyth's pet Zafeiri, could obviously smell the rabbit the elf was trying to hide, but remained on Faelyth's shoulder nevertheless. It's crystal blue head dipped down toward her pocket, but stayed put. Fae's eyes stayed glued to the elf for some time, but she turned her gaze to the rest of the party with a dull glare. **\"I hope you do all know that. It will be a body, not a man, that we bring back.\"**"
},
{
"author": "Rylkyn Vrane",
"message": "Rylkyn looked up at the tiefling as she removed her hood, his expression not showing much of the shock value she might have hoped to achieve, one shady client was the same as any other shady client, regardless of race. However, exactly like he'd thought, he had gotten no straight answer about what she was using the plant for other than some vague idea of protecting herself and producing an antidote with no mention on how she could do such a thing. So, instead he focused on her crude comment. \"Haha, yes sex joke you're sharp as a wheel you are. No, I said I wouldn't judge because I frankly don't care how you use it. However, those who really need to reassure me that the deadly poison they want me to get for them isn't for me, are usually the ones who fully intend to use it on me. So, how about this, I will get you the plant. But, I will be the one to give it to you, not your middle man here\" He says as he vaguely gestures towards Shy \"Then you'll pay me the rest of what you owe and we can all fuck off our separate ways.\" Ignoring the tiefling's quip about being a bad negotiator, Rylkyn returned his attention to Shy. \"We'll keep the reward split evenly for the missing person. That'll be my extra fee. But, for the herbs, the person using you as a buffer is the one paying me for those. No need to worry about a split. That's Big Horny over there's worry.\"\n-\n\nThe entrance of yet another person into the discussion caused Rylk to roll his eyes. Even compared to the obviously dodgy backer who was very obviously using this other elf's good intentions for something, this new one could hardly have looked more shady if she tried. Though, the fact that another dark elf was around was slightly comforting, even if that usually meant little when it came down to survival necessities. Still, extra set of hands and all that, as if there needed to be any more of a sign that he was going to get roped into looking for this person. \"Well, considering that it's a bounty and no one specifically hired me for this, I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that part will be split evenly.\" Not waiting for the dark elf to turn her attention towards him, not like he would have waited to begin with, he looked up and down the new person's clothing, by the gods she really did look like some folkloric drawing of a ne'er do well. The constant talk of finding a body, while not wrong, also perked his ear slightly.\n-\n\n\"You could start with lowering that mask a bit, makes you look a little less serial killery. But, odds are it'll be a body more than anything else, this is the Blackwater after all. So, hopefully you got a strong set of shoulders because dead weight is a bitch to carry. But, if you want to tag along, extra hands might make it a little less of a pain in the ass.\" For a split second, Quilliam's nose popped out of his bag, twitching and sniffing the air until it retreated back in response to the snake. \"But, we'll be making a few pit stops to grab some alchemical ingredients along the way, so if you can stomach a few stops, then you're free to stick around for as long as you don't do some dumb shit that'll get us killed out there.\""
}
] | 494.5 | 2,636 |
686.8 | 2022-02-14 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Franklin 'Stormborn' Jones",
"message": "*Likewise holding a poster in his hand, Captain Jones looked around the Tavern room. The Captain, dressed in his normal captain's suit, spotted the gathered individuals talking. A motley crew, but surely skilled enough. He checked that he had remembered bolts for his hand crossbow, and walked up to the gathered crowd. He had gotten bored and it would be a few more days before the Thunderhead could put to sea. An expedition into the swamp certainly was the kind of adventure he needed to get his blood flowing while they fixed his ship. As he sat down nearby, he said,* \"Aye, so at least I won't be having to face the swamp alone now. I'm Captain Jones of the *Thunderhead.* I figured I may as well go on a quick adventure into the swamp while she's under repair. So what's the current situation, I know a missing person, but have ye been told any more than that yet, I'd rather not go in blind.\"\n\n*He leaned back as he spoke, fiddling with a compass. He didn't seem to mind the potental danger, in fact his several scars stood testament to the fact that he lived a dangerous lifestyle. While he appeared layed back, he was sizing up who they were dealing with. None looked like warriors, although he guessed from their apperance, at least two of them were acustomed to violence and killing. He really hoped that should it come to a straight fight, that he wouldn't have to be facing whatever it was alone while they all ran for the nearest shadow. But other than that and subtly checking his coinpurse was still there, he was relaxed about the whole endeavor.* \"Surely you have some lead as to where the poor bloke's wound up.\""
},
{
"author": "Zelyvia",
"message": "She didn't appear bothered by his opinion of her, nor decided to rebuttal the insult to her intellect for a joke that worked on lesser minds. Though he was proving many stories of himself correct for being as equally sharp tongued as he was on guard. Good, this would mean Shy was in good hands and the money she was going to pay him was worth it. Despite his demeanor, there is an inkling of respect for the way he conducted himself. She did loathe when another decided whether what she stated was true or not, but let this slide for the sake of business. Her expression remained neutral with him without giving away these thoughts however as the lass propped her elbows on the table and glanced his way. **\"If it pleases you. Your business is yours and mine is mine. We never have to see each again after this, but that root will exchange hands whether you plan to do so or she follows you to me. That is the end of it.\"**\n\nFor the reward money she made no gesture or desire for any of it. It was information that kept her at the table while waiting for the individual that was going to provide the details. The Tiefling hadn't expected another in similar attire to settle down beside Shy. Lifting the mug of mead again, a smile was hidden for the show she knew was about to unfold, but listened and watched the others intently. For the new lass, Zelyvia knew when she was being appraised for her danger level from too long on the streets. She didn't bother to react to this in any capacity outside of leaning back in her seat while she returned the gesture in kind. Unlike the very verbal Rylkyn, the lass kept her mouth shut. Any identifiable features that could place her near any crimes of any type was why she hid herself. Giving the stranger the benefit of the doubt for now but made a note to ask around later if she could discover a single hint of the lass from her network.\n_ _\n\nShe placed the nearly empty mug down in front of her while finally answering Faelyth's question on her own behalf. **\"You'll probably find pieces or something to identify him, nothing more. Luckily I'm not a part of this expedition I'm afraid, so I'll leave it to you thr.\"** That's when the new lad sat down at the table too. Lose a pair and gain a pair, perhaps fortune smiled today. **\"Four.\"** She grinned some while lowering her head so nobody could see the expression on her features before shaking her head. **\"There's little by way of information as to whom it is so much as the individual looking for them instead. As this doesn't deal with anyone important to my knowledge I haven't delved into it.\"**\n\nLifting the mug back off the table, the lass only offered her work name as she had everyone else here. Her own name wasn't of importance in any capacity, but it always felt safer hiding behind a persona. **\"You may call me Indiscis.\"**"
},
{
"author": "Shynoata Parfedhellen",
"message": "Listening to Rylk and Indicis converse went about as well as the elf had thought it would while settling Bramble back into her pocket. There was no way in hell she was going to argue about any of this, lifting the bag back into her lap, the word *Middle man* Used to describe her did make the elf roll her eyes. *This is going to be one of **Those** Days.* Fishing through the bag in her lap, the lass withdrew a small vial and chugged the tonic's contents to stop the headache that was forming already. They argue like siblings and just met. Her money was on that they might either kill each other if the Tiefling didn't have a prior engagement to this. A visible shudder given from the other thought that crossed her mind coupled with the bitter flavor of the potion.\n\nWhile replacing the vial in the bag Shy froze when she suddenly felt someone's breath on her face. The mocha elf gazes directly into the Heterochromatic gold and blue eye of the lass next to her. Light grey eyes slightly mesmerized by the rare trait of the lass as a whole, it took her a second before her cheeks dusted a faint shade of pink from embarrassment before quickly looking away. Occasionally glazing back her direction hoping it wasn't the tattoos she was trying to verify. After a few seconds and after Rylk confirmed that they were already discussing pay, she grinned a bit nervously while nodding encouragingly. **\"An even split, though I'll take a bit less as I'd prefer to do so for the family as a whole instead of the gold. So I don't mind pooling some of mine into what's left for the two of you. I'm not exactly eager to fight, but will do what is necessary if there aren't any more options available to me. As such it's only fair to offer more to those who will earn their keep, I'm here to mend should anyone require it.\"**\n_ _\n\nIt took a lot more than a few seconds for her to recognize the smirk beneath the mask as flirtatious when she noticed the blue snake instead. Her nervous demeanor shifted to one of curiosity for the creature as she canted her head a bit to the side, Shy's hands cupping the small rabbit beneath the cloak out of habit when she felt him tremble in fear. **\"Shynoata. The pleasure is mine Faelyth.\"** Unlike Rylk, she didn't mind the lass's attire considering she too tended to hide her features for her own reasons. Instead gushing a bit over the snake since did actually have some of the venom from one back home, but the species escaped her at the moment. **\"What species is he? I've only seen one and know they're poisonous from the markings across their scales. Is he docile? Wh.\"** Recognizing she was ranting, she took a deep breath. **\"My apologies, he's beautiful.\"** She held out her hand for the lass to shake if she was so inclined, despite her awkwardness it was a bit firmer and more assured than she appeared. If not, awkwardly lowering her hand back into her lap while fidgeting with her thumbs.\n\nHer gaze shifted to the floor when she pointed out a body with the other two, hoping for the family's sake it wasn't the case. Shy didn't meet any of their gazes again for a moment, nodding and waving for the new gentleman before clutching her bag tight across her chest. The thought of someone else losing someone dear to their heart was obviously bothering her."
},
{
"author": "Faelyth Duskryn",
"message": "**\"Unless you intend on removing it yourself, I won't be removing a single piece of clothing.\"** Faelyth's eyes noticeably stayed glued to Shy's, not so much as offering the fellow dark elf so much as a glance. Listening intently to the elf ramble about her beloved snake, Zafeiri, Fae reached for Shy's hand as she extended it, and allowed her snake to slither from her own arm to the elf's before her. **\"A sapphire viper, from the gemstone viper family. And yes to your question, she is indeed docile. Well, when I want her to be of course.\"** Faelyth's eyes grew a bit lazy from the conversation going on around her, and once Zafeiri was completely off of her arm and onto Shy's, she pulled away, leaving Shy to her own devices with her very venomous pet snake. Zafeiri on the other hand made her way around Shy's neck, and simply rested there just like she did when resting on Faelyth, her tongue flicking out to tickle Shy's neck and cheek, if only to get a good smell of her. She probably had interest in the rabbit, but unless told otherwise, she'd stay put.\n.\n\nTurning her eyes to the newcomer, Faelyth gave the obvious pirate a quick up and down before rolling her eyes a bit, a snarky comment snaking its way out of her lips toward Captain Jones, **\"Aren't pirates best on their ship, Captain Thunderhead? Or Jones, was it?\"** Faelyth's yellow and blue eyes rested lazily in her skull, not particularly interested in anyone here other than Shy, and that was only because she honed in on how vulnerable the poor elf was to being toyed with; Fae's favorite method of entertainment. Honing back in on the mocha skinned elf, Faelyth rested her chin onto a palm, her eyes dancing between Shy's once more, though her words were aimed elsewhere, **\"You have awfully pretty colors for a tiefling, though I don't think I can get you to blush as quickly as I did with this one, can I?\"** If only to get under Shy's skin more, Faelyth began to allow a small magical trick to play within her eyes.\n.\nAlmost as if a small storm formed in her yellow eye, lightning began to crackle and pop, though no sound was heard. In her other, it almost looked like a snowglobe as small white dots danced around like snow. *Oh this was going to be fun, one way or another.* **\"Yeah we can make all the stops you want to, big man.\"** Faelyth was rather dismissive of Rylkyn, which was a bit strange given they shared a race and most likely both faced the same amount of bigotry as the dark elves usually do. No, there was definitely an ulterior motive to Faelyth's actions, and as shady as she was, Fae hadn't offered up too much in terms of information about herself. After all, she had refused to remove her mask at his request. Finally, Faelyth's words were directed at Shy once more, almost cutting off any other conversation that was thrown her way should there be any.\n.\n\n**\"You like animals, hm? I have a faequus outside if you wish to meet her. Its been quite some time since I've taken an elf for a ride.\"** Her eyes continued to dance, but as she looked away to allow Shy a moment to breathe and take in the snake around her neck and flirtatious dark elf in her face, Faelyth's expression became much more dull. Her eyes returned to normal, and sensing the tiefling was close with the elf, she offered nothing more than a wink Indicus's direction."
},
{
"author": "Rylkyn Vrane",
"message": "It only took a few words, but the absolute feeling of this dark elf set off every single warning bell in Rylkyn's head. He had grown up in the slums, he had seen predatory people seek out the young, the naïve, and the vulnerable before. And this one was absolutely a predator. Under normal circumstances, Rylk had at least one degree of separation to rationalize not getting involved. However, this one was staring him right in the face. This Shy absolutely had good intentions, her tiefling friend was dodgy but ultimately seemed to have a use for the material she requested in some capacity that wouldn't threaten him, plus she could take a jab as well as she could give one. Captain Jones, while appearing to want to go for nothing more than the thrill, wasn't the oddest reason he'd see someone want to go into the swamps. Those, he could live with. But, this one exhibited some of the most classic predator behavior he'd ever seen. From scammers, to murderers, to the most loathsome, the behavior wasn't hard to pick out if you knew the tells or just listened to your gut. Intense focus on a single person, check. Keeping others around them at bay to make them feel isolated, check. Putting them in an uncomfortable situation so they could alter the power dynamic in their favor, check. Despite the more survivalist of his brain saying that this was not his problem right now, it absolutely was going to become his problem once they hit the swamp, and his conscience couldn't let him in good faith let this dark elf anywhere near them. He'd been jabbing before, more out of habit and irritation at his hangover than anything else, but now it was time to put his foot down.\n-\n\n\"Alright, let me just make the air nice and clear here. This job felt weird when the poison got involved, that's fine I can work with that. The missing person case is added risk, but whatever I can still mitigate that. But, I'm not an intelligent elf, I don't particularly like underhandedness or ulterior motives. So, here's what I think right now. Shy, you obviously are doing this for genuine reasons. Almost all of the ingredients you listed off are healing additives and you at least believe there's someone alive out there. That last one's a bit optimistic, but I can respect it. You, Indiscis, I don't know why you want to poison, but I can take some guesses. While I may not be wholly on board with you, the healing herbs you're bankrolling at least have a second order benefit. Captain Jones, yes it will be an adventure, I can't promise it will be the most exciting because I do not like to play games with the Blackwater but weird things happen in there and I can guarantee you will at least leave with a story or two. But you\" He explicitly pointed to Faelyth as he said this, \"I have seen predatory behavior before, I've learned to pick up on when someone has malicious ulterior motives. You probably have too, since people like us tend to come from the same place. It's been maybe a minute and you've already thrown up so many red flags that I could make a carpet out of them. These two,\" Gesturing towards Shy and Captain Jones, \"I'd guide through the Blackwater without many complaints. Hell, I might even take Indiscis on a good day. But you, are a predator. I will take you to your herbs, Shy. You will have an adventure, Captain Jones. We can even look for the missing person along the way. But, I cannot in good faith let anyone go into the Blackwater with her.\"\n-\n\nPlacing his hat back on his head, whatever jabs or idiosyncrasies he'd shown up until this point vanished. He sat bolt upright, his focus jumping from Faelyth, to the snake, and back again. Being a fellow animal lover, he knew at least which serpents were particularly venomous and didn't want to let it get a drop on anyone at the table. Whatever haze he had felt from the night before suddenly drained into stark sobriety, actually appearing every bit the consummate professional his reputation said he was."
}
] | 748 | 3,434 |
596 | 2022-02-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Shynoata Parfedhellen",
"message": "She'd been surprised someone listened to her random queries and actually answered them in kind. Before she'd turned away from the reality of the situation they'd likely find, Shy gave the lass a small smile in appreciation. Though her eyes were quickly transfixed on the viper as Zafeiri slithered from her perch along the dark elf's shoulder to transfer onto the elf's own. The light squeeze of the dangerous pet most would find terrifying, to Shynoata it was reassuring considering the topic change, gentle tickles across her cheek and neck made the elf shiver a bit while stifling a chuckle. Her right hand rose slowly so the snake was aware of her intention before she gently stroked beneath her chin, cool scales soothing to her as she began to pay attention to the table. Despite the deadliness of the serpent, the lass was much calmer with it on her shoulders than the trembling rabbit in her pocket was. She did have a higher affinity towards animals than people from her decade up north in hiding.\n\nLight gray flicked between each individual as they spoke, though when they settled back onto Fae's the dusting of light pink continued to spread to the tips of her ears. She wasn't uncomfortable, just unused to others gazing upon her so intently without seeming to verify the engraved enchantment over her flesh. It still for the most part blended into her mocha skin for now. Keeping quiet for the most part as the others continued to converse. Captain Jones wanted adventure, Faelyth seemed to enjoy teasing, and Rylk was much like Indiscis, taking the whole venture as business while discussing finding the lass looking her way untrustworthy.\n_ _\n\nAbout to speak she flicked her eyes back towards Fae first. The magical show with her eyes was gorgeous, though the elf was quick to draw the hood of her cloak when she felt the telltale light burn of her tattoos confirming what the drow was doing. The intricate lines along her hands were the first to start their telltale glow of mana use around her which caused her to click her tongue while offering her arm to return the viper if she so chose, either way drawing her own hood over her face. Despite this, a faint light could still be seen beneath it illuminating the darkness within its confines. Trying not to draw attention to herself, the lass tucked her hands within the cloak too before she spoke in an even tone despite the hasty actions she performed.\n\n**\"I do enjoy the company of animals over people, one is a lot easier to understand their intentions. I've never seen magic used on one's eyes before, it was quite beautiful.\"** Shy raised her head enough to regain eye contact with the lass for a moment. **\"Once we find the lad and I obtain my ingredients I'd enjoy meeting the Faequus. I've never physically seen one though their beauty is said to be beyond compare.\"** She quickly turned her head towards Rylkyn and Zelyvia while they discussed the shady disposition of their companion. Shynoata was a bit desensitized when it came to danger to her person considering her choice of patients tended to be those that were in the slums who couldn't normally afford a biomancer. Despite her awkward disposition, she didn't recognize Fae as a threat or believed the swamps would be any less of a threat to the assassin as the rest of them. However, she did believe he was speaking on behalf of his own point of view since he'd been fairly straightforward with expectations to her before the rest joined them.\n_ _\n\n**\"Indiscis is fairly trustworthy despite what others would tell you or the attitude she displays.\"** She quickly gestured a moment towards the tiefling still speaking with Captain Jones before hiding her hands once more. **\"I am not worried for my safety around any of you for what it's worth. As I just told Faelyth, an individual can't begin to fathom what actions another may perform in any situation while only being in control of their own actions. If it's my honor that has you worried despite my... Inadequacies in comprehending social decorum. I can assure you I will remain and keep us as intact as I possibly can while we search for the lad.\"**\n\nShy hung her head apologetically a moment before she continued while her voice lowered slightly. **\"How else can anyone prove themselves trustworthy if they're not provided a chance?\"**"
},
{
"author": "Faelyth Duskryn",
"message": "\"By the gods, are you dull.\" Faelyth finally pulled away from locking eyes with Shy and looked over the fellow dark elf, bored and uninterested in his words about her 'predatory behavior'. Rolling her eyes, Faelyth finally removed her mask, though she was unsure how seeing her mouth would chance much in the way of them knowing her. She still didn't intend on sharing her last name, and for all they knew she didn't even have one. Blinking slowly, Faelyth retrieved Zafeiri from Shy and allowed her companion to slither along her arm and back to the perch that was her own shoulder before letting out a gentle sigh. \"For starters, I had intended on doing this bounty myself. *Alone*. Which should tell you well enough that I can handle it *Alone*. If you're trying to threaten me by not offering a guide through a swamp I've been through once before, you're selling yourself short big man. *I don't need you in the slightest.*\" Faelyth's eyes darkened, but there was sinisterly playful look in each of her marvelously colored eyes.\n\n\"If you really think you're getting rid of me, all I simply have to do is listen to what the barkeep has to say on this bounty and go do it before you even have a chance to leave Crasmere.\" Faelyth shrugged, knowing she had them cornered if they wished to do the bounty at all. \"After all, little miss mocha needs her herbs like you said.\" Now that her face was revealed, Faelyth tongued her cheek in victory, a smile playing across her defined jaw with triumph. \"I only approached you given that you wish to complete the same bounty as I out of respect, so rather than painting me to be the bad guy for a mask and some flirtatious behavior, why not return the same to me, hm?\" Placing her mask back over her mouth, Faelyth winked toward Rylkyn before looking over to the barkeep, who'd noticed them some time ago. \"Oi, Ardal Blackbough? Got a party here wanting to find your dear old brother. Bring some mead while you're at it.\"\n.\n\nFaelyth turned back to do nothing more than stare at Rylkyn. He sure was an annoying arse, Fae thought to herself. If she stabs anyone in the back over this, *He's first.* Nevertheless, hearing the tiefling flirt right back caused Faelyth to return to her lax self once more, and leaned back in her chair with a chuckle. \"Nothing special about my skin love. All it gets me is glares and mistrust.\" Fae's eyes shot back to Rylkyn as she said this, which considering he shared her complexion, it made it all the worse how judgmental he was. \"Aye, I agree with Indicus completely. If I was going to backstab you, I wouldn't do it in the most dangerous place this side of Gantrick. You're quite the fool if you believe so. I have nothing to hide. The mask is to simply avoid as many sideways gazes as I possibly can. People can be cruel given what our people did so long ago. God forbid one of you was a dragonborn or dwarf.\" In an attempt to play at their heart strings, Faelyth made it sound as though her mask was to avoid the racists that plagued each and every kingdom. Her eyes noticeably hardened and saddened a bit all at once, but with a shrug, the dark elf finally looked back to Shy with a smile.\n\n\"Her name is Renaissance, she's quite the beauty. For obvious reasons, she'll be staying in Crasmere's stables. Can't lose my closest friend to whatever the hell it is we run across in Blackwater.\" Faelyth let up on the flirting, sensing that anymore and Rylkyn'd throw another fit. The gentle glow resonating from Shy's skin did catch Faelyth's eye, but wishing to move on and start the hunt she didn't speak on it. Instead, the dark elf offered nothing more than a wink in Shy's direction, and turned to face the approaching barkeep with her mead instead."
},
{
"author": "The Weaver of Stories",
"message": "Nearly jogging over, a tall earth genasi approached the party's table, and in his hand a tankard of mead for the dark elf lass that had asked for it. Handing it over, the barkeep wiped his hands on a cloth that was hanging from his belt before glancing over the present group. A look of hope filled his eyes before he spoke, his voice filled with sadness and worry. Thankfully, he had missed all of the group's discussion on bringing back nothing more than a corpse. \"I uh.. Thank you for taking the time to come and speak with me, genuinely. Niellen, me brother has been missing for almost five days. I know that makes it nearly impossible to find him alive, especially with it being the Blackwater Swamp and all but- I gotta remain hopeful, y'know?\" Offering a gentle smile, the barkeep cleared the lump from his throat and continued.\n\n\"I'm Ardal Blackbough, and as for information on Niellen, I can't offer too much. We live in a cottage just south of Crasmere, but still on the main road, which would probably be a good place to start if I could offer any advice. What information can I offer you? A description of him, last place I saw him?\" The earth genasi's hands began to shake anxiously, the words he spew just as shaky. Ardal was scared, terrified even, that the last of his family was long gone. It was clear he was unsure how to go about doing this process. His eyes noticeably couldn't meet any of the party's for too long, either."
},
{
"author": "Rylkyn Vrane",
"message": "\"Right, you've been in there once. I've only been going in and out of the Blackwater more times in the last forty years than, likely, all five of our ages combined. What the fuck do I know? Do you know land navigation in a swamp that regularly decides to say, fuck reality? Of course you do, you've been there once. Do you know hoe to avoid the predators that stalk any semblance of a trail and hide to ambush anything smaller than them? Of course you do, you've been there once. But, you can stop pretending to be innocent, I've dealt with some of the same shit you have, lived in far worse places, and dealt with far worse people than you. I know a dangerous sack of shit when I see one, and you absolutely are one. If you think that literally any sane person would believe any part of the way you've acted just in the last few minutes isn't the mark of a sociopath, then you're retarded. And it seems everyone is just ok with this and insists on blatantly hiding things from the person they are intending to trust with their lives in there. So, tell you what, no one needs to pay me. Because I'm not taking any of you. I probably would have taken you, Captain. You actually speak like you have thought about this. But, such is life.\"\n\nDone with whatever any of these people intended, he'd given them an out and they insisted on simply pushing forward to die in the swamp. Even if he took them, these people were asking for death more so than any group of potential clients he'd ever seen. While he might have felt bad, he wasn't going down with them. Standing from his seat, he patted the earth genasi on the shoulder as he left. \"By the way, Ardal, they 100% believe your brother is dead. So, if they come back with a couple of chunks and tell you it's your brother, like 80:20 it's not really him and they're lying to you.\" Sunlight flooded into the tavern for a brief second, before vanishing as Rylk left the tavern."
},
{
"author": "Franklin 'Stormborn' Jones",
"message": "*He nodded as they spoke. The battle had been a thrill, but considering the animosity of the party towards each other, he wondered if it would be wise to tag along. Even so, he decided to trust his gut and tag along. He had done a number of landings in the swamp from the sea, so while he was no expert in the swamp's interior, he had a good idea of the danger that lurked within. It was unusual for Jones to be the only one asking questions about logistics in the face of potential danger, that was usually his quartermaster, but he had no intention of suicide.*\n\n\"Thank you, and should you need my help in the future, be sure to let me know,\" *He replied to Zelyvia's comments* \"So long as we have a plan of action formed before venturing in we stand a far better chance of survival. As for her,\" *Nodding towards Faelyth* \"I have dealt with many untrustworthy looking folk, and while some were deserving of that reputation, and others were not, in a life or death situation everyone pulls their part, or the ship goes down. While the ship is metaphorical in this instance, I do trust she won't jeprodize her own safety for some petty gains.\" *He hoped to get the bickering between the two dark elves over with, a petty dispute could prove lethal in the swamp with so few people to pick up slack.*\n\n*He was glad to see the individual who had the information arrive, hoping to change the conversation away from mistrust based on appearance and over to the actual mission.* \"So tell us whatever you can, where did you last see your brother and where was he going?\" *But before the man could speak Rylkyn stormed out of the tavern, and with a groan, Captain Jones added,* \"And something we can identify so what he just described doesn't happen.\""
}
] | 443 | 2,980 |
376.5 | 2022-01-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Thessalia Cairan",
"message": "*Day fell and night rose, the moon gifting its shimmering light to the immortal traveler to follow. Finally, after weeks and weeks of wandering desolate roads, feeding off of small animals while hiding away from the blazing sun. It seemed like luck was on her side. Thessalia entered the city of Crasmere at the dead of night, hoping to find someone foolish enough to hang out after dark. Her footsteps were completely silent while walking the winding—and rather confusing—cobble streets, her red eyes glowed in the dark, desperately looking for someone to feed on. Unfortunately, however, not a soul was out. And so, the woman continued to wander the road till ending up in an eerie market.*\n\n*Thessalia surveyed the market, finding it nothing like the one in A'Shona; it was devoid of anything, riddled with empty vendors and the occasional beggar. Unwilling to feed on beggar blood, Thess wandered for someone else. There had to be someone else, right? Right? Thessalia circled the large, empty market, reminiscing about her hometown and the various exotics brought through. It was wonderful compared to what she was witnessing now.*\n\n*She decided to settle down after a moment of walking, legs sore from walking. Deciding to take a seat, Thessalia rested her bum on a small wooden crate, her eyes closing in an attempt to relax. Though her attempts failed, unable to sleep off the slight but noticeable urge to eat. It was struggle, one that the poor elf couldn't get used to even after the many years of being a vampire.*"
},
{
"author": "Rhurrik Nephyr",
"message": "Walking along the dimly lit path of Crasmere's marketplace, the gentle clicks of Rhurrik's taloned feet made a good and gentle beat to strum his lute to. Playing a melancholic tune, the aarakocra was singing quietly to himself, and each time he passed a begger he'd stop and offer a coin, along with a gentle and caring smile. The song he sang itself was sad but beautiful, a tale of two lovers learning to navigate the terrifying world with one another. Rhurrik's voice was gentle and soothing, but he had yet to notice the elven woman sitting meters away from him. A gentle magic swirled around his lute as his talons strummed the strings, almost forming two golden and illuminescent butterflies walking and floating around him, if only to tell the store of his song further.\n\n*\"Hey, butterflies.\nDon't you hold on too tight\nBoth of you know, it's your time to go\nTo fly apart, to reunite\nWonders surround you\nJust let the walls come down\nDon't look behind you, fly till you find\nYour way toward tomorrow...\"*\n\nAs he came closer, the corner of his eye finally caught the elven woman, causing him to stop signing and tilt his head. She looked slightly distressed, which caused the aarakocra to frown a bit. While he had stopped singing, he continued to gently strum his lute, if only to help calm or perhaps cheer up the woman before him. Dressed in rather foreign clothing, robes of white, blue, red and gold adorned the aarakocra, and his wings remained folded behind his back. Looking over his features, it was obvious he was bearded vulture, made apparent by the gentle color of his white, gold and black feathers.\n\n\"Are you alright, miss?\""
},
{
"author": "Thessalia Cairan",
"message": "*Thessalia heard the faint strum of a lute, the melancholic tune reminiscent of a lullaby her mother used to sing when she was just a babe. Nevertheless, she fluttered open her eyes, surveying the market once again for any the person responsible for the music. Alas she found nothing. Not yet, at least. Though with each passing second, the music only comforted the vampire, memories of a time long past. A time where she had nothing to worry and was continuously praised by her loving parents. The story told in a melodious tone, Thessalia wished she had someone to reunite with.*\n\n*Unfortunately, she had no one to reconnect with. None that weren't terrifyingly aware of her curse.*\n\n*A defeated sigh drifted past her smooth lips, head hung as memories from Thyseer flooded her pounding head. Thessalia regretted everything that led up to her banishment but her mind returned to the present when noticing the bright butterflies that caught the corner of her eyes. Lifting up her head, she observed the aarakocra that wandered the night, gifting coin and a joyous smile while strumming his lute and singing a song. Was this normal? Thess couldn't say, but it was definitely saddening, the song causing her lips to form a frown. Tears welled up in her eyes, but the young elf tried to hide under the hood of her cloak, unwiling to draw unnecessary attention.*\n\n\"Are you alright, miss?\"\n\n*Thessalia glanced up at the man, red eyes bearing up at him as she hesitated to speak. Part of her wanted to eat, the other wanted to talk, voice having grown coarse after years of disuse. Finally, she settled on an answer.* \"I'm...*Fine*.\" *Aforementioned, her voice was incredibly rough and quiet, nothing more than just a whimper.* \"What was that song?\" *Thess questioned, brow cocked upwards while she awaited an answer.*"
},
{
"author": "Rhurrik Nephyr",
"message": "Frowning a bit, Rhurrik allowed the golden and glowing butterflies around him to disappear slowly, but created a more gentle yellow light between the two so they weren't in total darkness. Swirling it closer to the woman, the aarakocra tilted his beaked head her way. \"Hm.. You don't sound fine. Oh- its just a song I've been working on. Don't really have a name for it just yet but, Two Butterflies sounds like a good name for now.\" With a smile, Rhurrik shrugged a bit. Looking her over for a moment, it became apparent she wasn't a beggar like those he had passed earlier. Offering a coin would probably insult her, so he instead offered his waterskin filled with cool water. \"Here- you sound as though your throat hurts.\" While her red eyes were a bit off-putting, Rhurrik smiled nonetheless.\n\nWhile he didn't know what she truly was, the elven woman would definitely feel a sense of naivety from the young aarakocra. After all, he was only three years old. In a standard race's years, around twenty one. Noticing the wetness around the woman's eyes, Rhurrik frowned even more. Was she hurt? Perhaps it was his song? Ruffling his feathers a bit, a cold chill ran down Rhurrik's spine, almost as if there was something wrong. Glancing around himself, he shrugged it off, assuming it was nothing more than the cold breeze chilling his body a bit. Whether she took his waterskin or not, Rhurrik strummed over his lute once more, unsure how to help the woman before him.\n\n\"Do you need some sort of help? I don't have much coin on me, but if you're hurt I know basic healing magic.\""
}
] | 380 | 1,506 |
535 | 2023-03-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Though Vhun didn't see herself as a particularly materialistic person, she never was one to pass up a stop at a market. If nothing else, there was the opportunity to purchase random household goods, and at best there was occasionally fabric, thread and even the occasional garment worth picking apart for its material for sale. That didn't appear to be the case here, however. The market was quieter than she'd hoped, and there wasn't much of anything she found interest in.\n\nNo matter, she thought, it was a nice place for a walk even if there wasn't much use for the trip.\n\nExcept it wasn't all that nice of a place. It was just sort of near the swamp, and the people seemed to stare a lot. She didn't like it here, she decided. She couldn't control how she looked.\n\nVhun's appearance was decidedly strange, though she'd made every effort to be as subtle as possible. After all, outside of her familiar city there was just a bit more danger in her typical style of dress. Aside from being identifiable, it may as well have been a banner announcing that she did in fact have money on her person. \n\nAs such, today she was dressed simply. Her torso was covered by a plain shirt, andall four of her shoulders, along with part of her wings, were covered by a knitted gray shawl. Her long, rather spindly legs were covered by a pair of black slacks and heavy brown leather boots. Despite the plain clothing, it was rather impossible for Vhun to blend into such a crowd. She was mothfolk, after all. If she'd been capable of an expression of unease, it would have been written all over her face. \n\n Her face remained as unreadable as ever, antennae twitching. She'd settled in front of a stand selling what she thought to be somewhat unimpressive baskets, pretending to examine one. In truth, her focus lay just about behind her, watching for anyone that might get too close as she began to hatch a plan for her departure."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Another face that stood out from the crowd was that of Aria, although the reasons why were much different. At eight feet tall, the woman towered over almost everyone there, her glowing eyes looking over the crowd. Her height, the heavy armor she wore, her massive claymore, her wings, folded on her back yet still large in size, her stern and serious expression, it all made for an intimidating sight, one few people dared to approach.\n\nShe stood away from most of the stalls, helmet held under her left arm. Her long, red hair was tied up in a tight bun on her head, and with her right hand, she held her claymore, the point on the ground. It was in its scabbard still, although Aria could remove it in a matter of seconds if necessary. The thing was huge, the pommel reaching her chest, with a long hilt that allowed her to swing it with both hands - it was slightly taller than the Mothfolk wandering around the market was, actually. A normal person would find it impossible to lift, let alone swing it, but anyone who had seen Aria in battle would know that she managed to swing it as easily as if it was a little stick.\n\nThe reason why the Aasimar was here today, watching over the market, was fairly simple; she had been slaying some monsters in the nearby swamp the past few days, and needed some time to rest and relax. Whereas most people might go do something fun, maybe hang out with some friends, go watch a play, do some shopping, or even just lay down and do nothing, Aria preferred to spend her free days watching over the common folk and protect them from danger if it popped up - and this was the perfect location for that. It was relatively peaceful, but some monsters occasionally popped up, preventing her from being able to get distracted. She had to stay focused, and yet, she could rest her aching muscles without having to feel useful.\n_ _\n\nAll in all, Aria would be content to spend the rest of the day like this, looking almost like a particularly realistic statue to those that didn't pay too much attention to her. Occasionally, a citizen would strike up a conversation with her, and she would be friendly and polite, but distant enough so that they eventually lost interest and didn't continue talking to her. It was a peaceful day for her, and she was enjoying the few rays of sun that managed to hit her, keeping her warm, but not too warm.\n\nLooking around, her gaze landed on one of the many people wandering around. What... Was that? Aria had never quite seen anything like it. A monster of some kind? No, those weren't usually dressed up. Pets were sometimes given clothing, but Aria sincerely doubted that this one was any kind of animal, they looked too much like a person for that. Somewhat resembling a large moth, the Aasimar had no clue what she was looking at. Yet, she decided not to approach for now, not wanting to disturb what could be an innocent citizen. Still, she decided to keep an eye on the strange, moth-like figure, just in case."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "It didn't take long for Vhun to notice the imposing figure looming just outside the main market area. It would be hard to not notice this individual anyway, given her height, the heavy and quite out of place armor she wore, and the weapon she carried. Vhun had always considered herself to be fairly tall, standing at five foot nine, but this woman —and her weapon for that matter— dwarfed her. She couldn't imagine anyone wielding such a thing, even one so tall as Aria. It seemed like something too flashy to be owned by any sort of city-guard. Perhaps this woman was some kind of mercenary?\n\nShe was happy at least, that her own anatomy didn't require her to fully turn her head to watch Aria. By now she'd realized that this tall woman was staring at her. Dread began to pit in her stomach, an unfamiliar and certainly unwelcome feeling. She knew many weren't familiar with her species, and as such some had a tendency to make unfair or untrue assumptions as to what she was. Typically Vhun was able to simply ignore these people, or extricate herself from the situation. Her wings were a gift in that case, but this woman also seemed to be winged. That was a problem.\n\nHer antennae flicked, wings trembling once in tandem as she thought. It might look suspicious if she suddenly turned and ran, she thought. She didn't want to be followed, or at least not followed by someone swinging a sword. The woman stood statue-still for a long moment, uneven antennae slowly flicking back toward the woman.\n\nAnother moment passed, a moment of contemplation for the moth, and then she slowly spun on her heel, turning to face Aria. For a moment, Vhun wished she'd dressed just a bit nicer. There was something to be said for at least looking like she had somewhere to be. Her lower set of hands moved to fold behind her back, upper set moving to fold at her waist. Her head slowly tilted up as she looked to Aria, keeping distance for now, but making it very clear that she had noticed her interest. There was, after all, no better option."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Of course, the woman occasionally turned her attention to the rest of the market, although she didn't move her head at all, and the glowing of her eyes made it impossible to fully tell in what direction she was looking - she could have been staring off into space, for all anyone knew. Yet, she wasn't. Her gaze was focused on the strange creature, and apparently her staring hadn't gone unnoticed.\n\nShe watched as the moth-like humanoid turned to face her, staring straight at her. Not entirely unexpected. Yet, Aria didn't move, giving off the impression that she was a statue of some kind. She continued watching every movement carefully, looking at the person fold their arms in a specific way. She really wished she could read facial expressions of some kind, but it seemed the person didn't have any. How strange... Her clothing looked somewhat plain, and Aria found it difficult to get an impression of what this person was like from them as well. Perhaps she should just go over and strike up a conversation... That would be wise, wouldn't it?\n\nAnd then, she noticed it. A slight twitch in one of the shadows near the stranger, one that wasn't supposed to be there. Aria's eyes narrowed. She knew immediately what it was, and her wings spread open slightly as she unsheathed her claymore from its scabbard, the steel sharp, polished and clearly well taken care of. The scabbard, she simply let fall to the ground, along with her helmet - she doubted people would be stupid enough to steal them from someone like her. She spread her wings, and without hesitation, jumped forward, the point of her claymore pointed straight ahead of her.\n_ _\n\nShe was fast, much faster than she had any right to be in that heavy armor of hers. Her wings flapped once to give her more speed, a faster start, leaving behind several white feathers. Surprisingly, she wasn't as loud as one might expect her to be, her feet barely touching the ground as she sprinted, seemingly straight at the strange person, her claymore beginning to glow a pure white light as she whispered a prayer to herself, the words impossible to hear from this distance.\n\nBut she wasn't going straight at her. No, within moments, Aria had reached the stranger, and plunged the point of her weapon straight into a shadowy creature that had emerged from the ground next to her. Or, well, tried to emerge, it was killed by the Aasimar before it had a chance to properly get out of the ground. The thing let out a screech that sounded like someone was pulling a horse in two, and then vanished, black clouds sinking back into the ground. Aria let out a sigh of relief, kind of forgetting what a fright she must have given the poor woman by charging straight at her after staring at her for so long."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "A moment passed, and Vhun found herself making direct eye contact with this strange woman. Now this was awkward. The woman wasn't approaching, and she most certainly wasn't going to be the one to initiate contact. Mercenaries certainly weren't people to be trifled with. Her lower set of hands, previously hidden behind her frame, slowly moved out and in front of her body, folding just below her upper set of hands. She didn't want it to seem like she was hiding anything.\n\nOf course, by Vhun's own perception, this gesture of harmlessness was apparently for nothing. Before she could even fully register what was going on, the tall woman was suddenly barreling toward her with her weapon drawn. She was fast. Faster than anything that large and encumbered should have been. It was a terrifying sight to behold, and for a millisecond, Vhun was frozen in place.\n\nThis, luckily, did not last, and the mothfolk's instinct toward survival kicked in. Her spindly legs bent, then extended, the mothfolk propelling herself upward in a mighty leap. As her legs moved, so did those massive wings of hers, snapping out with no small amount of force as they beat the air. Though these wings looked just about as sturdy as thin paper, it was abundantly clear they were not so delicate. Vhun certainly didn't seem to be very worried about injury, given that the opening of her wings had knocked over just about half of the items on the table nearest to her.\n\nShe didn't, however, make any move to fly away, and instead hung just about twenty feet in the air, staring down at Aria. Though this perhaps didn't seem like it was the smartest of decisions, it was a tactical move. There was no doubt that this woman was faster than she, at least flying in a straight line, but she was heavy. Vhun was light and she was fast. She didn't want to get this woman behind her and chasing her. No, the best strategy would be to force her to take an acrobatic path and tire herself out...\n\nThese thoughts of strategy quickly faded as she caught sight of Aria's true target. Something had been behind her? How had she not seen? The mothfolk didn't speak up, instead she elected once more to wait, hanging above Aria's head with both sets of arms folded. Her legs were held curled beneath her, mostly to make certain they were out of grabbing distance, and her head was tilted down. She was waiting for an explanation, the only sound the soft sound of her wings beating air."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "With the creature being so low to the ground, Aria had to crouch down low to be able to strike it, and she remained in that position for a few seconds, eyes focused on where the shadow had been. It seemed there was only one, luckily. She exhaled a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and got back to her feet, straightening her back as she turned her attention to the strange person - only to realize they were gone. Actually... That made sense. Aria must have scared the life out of her, and frankly, the Aasimar should be glad that there hadn't been a counter attack.\n\nPointing her greatsword's point down and once more only taking it in her right hand, Aria was about to head back to her spot, when she noticed an odd sound above her. That sounded like... Wings. Alarmed, her gaze shot up, glowing eyes scanning the sky for where it was coming from, instinctively lifting her weapon once more. Then, she realized the sound wasn't from anything threatening, but the moth-like person that she'd been staring at just now. So she could fly as well, then? That, too, made sense. If there was one thing moths were known for, beside being attracted to lights, it was their ability to fly.\n\nAria stared for a moment, then lowered her head in somewhat of an apologetic gesture. She figured she owed this person an explanation of some kind, or at least an apology. \"I am sorry for charging at you so suddenly,\" She announced, her voice clear and stern, the one of a woman who was used to being listened to. \"It was not my intention to scare you.\" She really should have shouted out a warning of some kind, now that she was thinking about it. \"All I meant to do was slay that creature that was threatening you.\"\n_ _\n\nThe Aasimar fell quiet, then, her head still low, exposing the neck. From above, Vhun might notice the start of a scar on the back of her neck, most of it hidden beneath her armor. The point of her claymore was resting on the ground, the grip held loosely in her right hand. Aria didn't dare look up at the moth, although she would look at her if she decided to land once more. Despite the fact that she didn't sound particularly apologetic, Aria hoped that the other would accept her apology, because it was a sincere one, she genuinely hadn't meant to scare an innocent civilian that badly."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The woman hung in the air for another long moment, her wings rhythmically beating as she stared down at Aria. She held herself in a rather strange sort of posture, arms still held crossed and legs still curled up. It almost looked like she was kneeling in midair, her head bent and antennae twitching in annoyance. She really had given her quite the scare, and Vhun wasn't certain if she should be angry about it or not. The aasamir below had without a doubt saved her from the creature on the ground, but she could have given her more warning.\n\nHowever, there was no point in holding a grudge... The mothfolk hummed, her wings slowly angled down, the creature beginning to descend in a small spiral. It was a leisurely sort of descent, intentionally so. Vhun wanted her upset to be incredibly clear, especially since her face was almost certainly impossible for Aria to read. \n\nThe mothfolk didn't speak for a long moment, instead she took her time in dusting herself off, using all four of her hands to dust herself off. This was thoroughly unnecessary, it was something that she could use to take up time. She was thinking as to what she wanted to do, or if she wanted to communicate at all. The petty side of her said to simply ignore her, but her conscience said that there was something to be said for diplomacy. Her lower set of hands slowly reached for the pouch at her hip. As was typical of her, the mothfolk did not attempt to speak Common, but rather began to shuffle through a deck of cut-parchment cards. \n\nShe barely seemed to need to look down as she searched through, instead feeling for which corner was cut and counting from there. The selected card was missing its upper right corner, and was the second to last of this kind. It was turned to face Aria without any further ado, Vhun holding a finger in the cards place to mark it. She didn't want to re-sort her cards.\n\n*I understand.*\n\nThe card was returned, and she set back to looking for her next phrase. There was no point in attempting to be subtle now, Vhun thought, and she'd adjusted her posture to reflect this. Her wings were held half-open now, creating what could best to described as a sort of bubble of personal space. Most wouldn't dare touch her wings, given just how delicate they appeared.\n\n*My name is Vhun.*\n\nThis card was missing the upper left corner, and was quickly followed by one missing its bottom right corner.\n\n*What's your name?*\n\nA basic question, she knew, but she was quite certain any writing of a more complex question would show off the fact that her hands were still shaking."
}
] | 540 | 3,745 |
490.666667 | 2023-03-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Aria looked upon the cards with some amount of curiosity. It was quite a smart system, actually. She noted how some of them seemed to have certain corners missing, realizing that was probably how Vhun was finding the right one so easily. She couldn't quite tell how many there were, but assumed there had to be enough to be able to have a basic conversation. Anything beyond that was perhaps done with the aid of writing? Although she hadn't seen the Mothfolk write yet, Aria had to assume that was how it went down.\n\nReally, had the situation been less tense, Aria might have indulged her curiosity and asked about it. However, she really wasn't in a position to do so right now, after what she had just done. Maybe in a little while, after she was absolutely certain that everything really was okay. Perhaps Vhun might have noticed her slight look of curiosity at the cards, perhaps not - it was difficult to tell where Aria was looking, with her glowing eyes.\n\nAlthough Aria somewhat doubted that she shouldn't worry about it, who was she to call the other's words into question? So, she nodded, accepting Vhun's words with a simple \"Understood\". Not really having anything to say aside from her own curiosities, Aria fell quiet. She'd never been particularly great at talking to people, and part of her was kind of hoping that Vhun would have something to say - or, well, write? She wasn't sure how she should think about it.\n\nWith the acceptance of her suggestion, Aria turned and walked to the spot, making sure that Vhun could keep up. The Aasimar's legs were rather long, after all, and she knew it was difficult for some people to keep up with her walking speed. Luckily, it wasn't that far away, so it didn't matter all that much.\n_ _\n\nUpon arriving, Aria quickly sheathed her weapon in its scabbard, one of a similarly simple and straightforward design, made of a brown leather. There were a few long leather straps attached to it that were rolled up neatly, but could be unrolled to attach the weapon to her back for transportation purposes - its size made it a bit awkward to carry along, after all. Her helm, Aria left on the ground for now, aware that putting it on would make her even more intimidating than she already was."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "As she walked, Vhun's lower set of hands had busied themselves trying to put her cards back in order. She seemed to be having some level of difficulty with this, given that she didn't want to engage all four of her hands and that she'd need to look at the numbers written in tiny script on the back if she wanted to get them back into true order. \n\nIt didn't take any special level of awareness to notice that Aria was looking at the cards, but Vhun chose not to elaborate further. She'd ask if she was truly curious, and it wasn't Vhun's job to indulge the curiosities of a stranger either way. If she didn't want to ask, then she didn't need to know. It was as simple a could be. The mothfolk's head slowly turned fully forward, and then slightly over one of her shoulders. It was a strange way to hold herself, she knew, but she was trying to make it abundantly clear that she wasn't staring right at her winged companion.\n\nDespite the difference in height, Vhun really was quite swift. She did lag a fair distance behind Aria, both out of preference and due to the difference in their stride length, but she was by no means left entirely in the dust. She took this distance as an opportunity to slowly open her wings further, creating a sort of bubble around herself. She wasn't in a mood to be jostled by the crowd. This change in posture was perhaps quite noticeable to Aria as the moth stopped, as it was accompanied by a stiffening of her posture, a stilling on her antennae and the settling of both sets of arms in front of her body.\n\nVhun made a show of lowering her head down to watch her sheath the weapon, then lifting it back to stare Aria in the eyes. She hoped this wouldn't be interpreted as the show that it was, but she also didn't think that her unmoving stare would do any good. That unsettled people. Her hands began to shuffle through the cards once more.\n\n*What species are you?*\n\nIt was a blunt question, but one that Vhun had been wondering about. She'd certainly seen aasimar before, but she didn't recall them being this tall..."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Once more, Aria rested her point of her claymore on the ground, point facing downwards, right hand holding the grip, and left on the pommel. This time, though, she stabbed it into the ground somewhat, with the scabbard protecting it from scratches or worse, losing its sharp edge.\n\nFor a moment, she stretched her wings to their full size, her wingspan bigger than she was tall, and then let them settle down, one or two feathers drifting to the ground. There wasn't any particular reason for it, other than that she simply needed to stretch sometimes. Aria hoped that the movement wouldn't come off as threatening in any way. Really, she'd been itching to do it for a few minutes now, but hadn't wanted to intimidate Vhun. Only when the Mothfolk had spread her own wings somewhat had she figured that it would be fine for herself to do the same.\n\nThe question, Aria read with some amount of curiosity, head tilted somewhat. Was it not obvious? The glowing eyes, the wings, it all pointed to her being an Aasimar, right? Then again, she had no clue how old Vhun was, how much of the world she'd seen, so perhaps it was a fair question after all. Actually, how old was this person she was talking to? She did carry herself like an adult, sure, but sometimes kids behaved older than they actually were. Aria wished she could tell her age without asking.\n\n\"I am an Aasimar,\" She stated, matter-of-factly. It wasn't an insulting question, not really. Aria knew there were some unusual things about her. With her being so much taller than average, people sometimes suspected that she was only half Aasimar, and half Goliath, perhaps. The people could think what they wanted, she didn't care, she knew what she was and what she wasn't.\n_ _\n\nHer gaze returned to drifting over the market, looking at that more than she was looking at Vhun. She wasn't trying to offend, really, she just wanted to keep an eye on the people, any other creatures that might pop up and try to hurt them. Of course, she did occasionally glance back to the Mothfolk in case she wrote down something new, but she had to perform her duties as well, and this was a much better vantage point than where the two of them were conversing earlier."
}
] | 497 | 1,472 |
485.333333 | 2023-03-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "It seemed that Vhun was not intimidated in the least by Aria's display, in fact, though it wasn't clear on her face, she quite understood what she was doing. Vhun herself was winged, and though their wings were quite different from one another, she did suppose that there had to be some shared traits. It was quite likely that the both of them suffered some level of irritation when holding their wings in an awkward or tense position for too long.\n\nInstead of commenting on this, the mothfolk allowed her own wings to spread open, stretching. They were far less impressive than Aria's, Vhun thought, but that didn't mean they weren't something. She had four of them, like a moth would, two larger forewings and two smaller hind wings. These wings were by no means as long as Aria's, but rather seemed to be built like sails. Certainly she was nimble, but she was almost arrow-shaped. The forewings were far more interesting in appearance than the hind, being a lovely inky black crossed with lines of white. The hind wings were quite different, being a red orange that faded in color as they fanned out from her body, the edges of her wings being lined with sharp dark shapes that almost looked painted on.\n\nShe gave a small nod in response to the woman's answer. Just Aasimar? Really? Perhaps they really did get that tall. She hadn't seen all too many Aasimar in her years anyway. Though Vhun was considered an adult by the standards of her species, she was more than aware that many would consider her a child. She just hadn't lived as long as they had.\n\nThe woman held up a hand for a long moment, and then set to rummaging in the small satchel that sat at her waist with her lower set of hands. Screw the cards. They weren't helping. A small bag, presumably for the cards, was produced. The cards were quickly stuffed into their pouch and then into the satchel, being traded for a small leather-bound book and a charcoal pencil.\n\nThe hand lowered.\n\n*Sorry. Cards are not in order. I do not want to be rude. Could you explain more about what was behind me? It was nothing I've ever seen before. I know it is off topic.*\n\nThe book was quickly flipped back to Aria as she finished writing. The handwriting was just as neat as it had been on the cards, though it did wander somewhat crookedly across the page, this being a symptom of her quick writing."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Aria was glad that her stretch hadn't intimidated the Mothfolk - in fact, Vhun seemed to mimic her somewhat, stretching her own wings. The Aasimar couldn't help it, she looked upon them with some amount of interest, admiration, even. They were quite beautiful, she couldn't deny that, far more varied in color than her own, which were simple and pure white. She couldn't help but wonder what the other's would feel like to the touch. Of course, Aria's wings were quite soft, even serving as makeshift blankets sometimes if she really needed them to.\n\nWhen Vhun held up a hand, presumably to signal her to wait, Aria turned her gaze to the market, just checking if there was anything dangerous going on, if she should intervene. Luckily, everything seemed to be going right for now, and she didn't even see any suspicious activity from the people. Perhaps her earlier display of strength had scared them? That wouldn't be entirely unexpected. She couldn't help it, for a moment, a hint of a smile danced around her lips. It seemed that she was doing something good then anyway.\n\nLooking back to Vhun, Aria found that she was now holding a small book and a pencil. The only thing she could assume was that it was to write with. Did she have a question that wasn't in the cards? She supposed that was the major downside of using that way of communicating. Still, it was a downside that was easily solved, simply by writing - which was indeed what happened.\n\nAria was glad that the handwriting was neat, not particularly minding the crookedness as long as the letters were clear enough. There were some peoples' handwriting that she could not decipher at all - though she supposed it would make sense that the Mothfolk had put some effort into writing clearly, with it seeming to be one of her main methods of communicating with those that didn't speak her language.\n_ _\n\n\"I understand,\" Aria commented with a nod. She supposed it wasn't the easiest question to ask with the prepared cards - how often did one get in these kinds of situations, after all? \"I am uncertain as to what they are actually called. I have been referring to them as 'Shades', because they are like shadows come to life.\" Simple and straightforward as always. \"I do not know what causes them to appear, but as I have not seen them elsewhere, I believe they are a regional species. From my observations, they attempt to hide in one's shadow, and then attempt to drag one inside the shadow. However, they are not particularly difficult to combat. They fear light, and are easily destroyed with sharp weapons, or a bright light.\" The easiest way to defeat something coming from one's shadow was to not have a shadow at all, after all. \"Does that sufficiently answer your question?\" She was quite willing to give information, it seemed."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun kept her wings open, noting Aria's eyes on them. There was nothing about them she was ashamed of, and if Aria wanted to look, she saw no issue with that. It was better than her touching them without permission like many did. Though Vhun was quite certain her wings had enough scales to last more than a lifetime, she didn't appreciate people poking at them.\n\n*Shades. How odd. Do you know what other people call them? Are they rare?*\n\nThis was written as quickly as Vhun could manage. It seemed she had more questions. She had to imagine that someone else had seen them before. It would be quite suspicious if nobody else had, in truth. What were the odds that creatures of darkness only appeared around someone who was more than capable of defeating them? It didn't make any sense. \n\nThe woman's wings fluttered lightly as she thought for a long moment. She didn't want to be annoying, but she was rather interested in this woman, if for no other reason than the fact that she was in front of her. Her hand tightened on the pencil, thinking about what she wanted to write next. It was situations like these that made Vhun realize her attempts at predicting conversational routes was largely futile.\n\n*Is there a way to avoid them?*\n\nThis was a safe question, she thought, given that she didn't know what else to ask. This conversation was one that could get awkward quickly, she knew, especially given that it seemed they were just about one awkward lull from just staring at each other in dead silence."
}
] | 529 | 1,456 |
345.333333 | 2023-03-14 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "\"I do not know what others call them, no.\" Saying those words, Aria realized that might sound slightly suspicious. If she was the only one to have heard of them, ever, then it might be suspected that she was the one making them appear - a ridiculous thought, in her eyes, but one that might make sense in a stranger's mind, someone who didn't know her. \"However, that is simply because I do not converse with people very often, and they rarely appear in areas that are crowded.\"\n\nIt was a nice segue into Vhun's next question, which Aria answered as well with her usual honesty, hoping that by doing so, she might get this woman to trust in her somewhat - the Aasimar meant no harm, after all. \"They are decently common at night, but even then, I have never seen one appear here. From what I have seen, they appear more commonly in caves and swamps, away from the city. Frankly, I am uncertain as to what compelled one to attack you right here, right now.\" Aria made a careful mental note to investigate that later.\n\nUnfortunately for both of them, the paladin was far from a good conversationalist. Sure, she answered the questions she was asked truthfully, but she didn't ask any of her own, even though she clearly had some. She simply didn't believe it was her place to ask right now, and she rarely asked questions unless given explicit permission to do so.\n\n\"They are scared off by light sources, usually. Carrying a lamp on your person should be sufficient.\" Aria couldn't help but wonder, were Mothfolk attracted to lamps just like real moths? She didn't feel like that would be true, but it certainly could be, she didn't know too much about them. \"And like I mentioned earlier, they do not appear in cities all that often. Frankly, it is my belief that you will not encounter another one here, unless you decide to depart into the swamps.\""
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "If Vhun's eyes were capable of narrowing, they would have. She really didn't know whether or not she should believe this person. Was this some elaborate attempt to find a conversation? She was starting to lean toward that, especially given that this woman claimed to never have spoken to another about these creatures. Wasn't it most efficient to hunt in groups, especially if these creatures were everywhere...\n\n*I see.*\n\nThis was all Vhun wrote, though she did not lower her pencil. Her grip on the book tightened, head gaining a very small tilt. She wasn't sure what else to say here, given that this strange individual didn't seem all that interested in conversing. Really, it felt more like Vhun herself was interrogating this woman. Or rather, she was attempting to interrogate her in the interest of avoiding an awkward conversational lull. Truly, she wasn't interested in continuing to discuss these beings.\n\n*Good to know.*\n\nA lamp? Really? Vhun didn't often find herself in need of carrying a light source, given that she found herself quite capable of seeing in the dark if need be. However, the mothfolk wasn't all too worried about this. She was fairly certain that these things couldn't fly, and if they lived in her shadow, she was pretty sure that if she got high enough off the ground, she wouldn't cast very much of a shadow at all. That seemed like a way to avoid the trouble altogether."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "The Aasimar woman watched Vhun write, not saying a word herself. It really did feel like an interrogation, but she didn't mind it. These were questions that she knew the answer to, questions that had only one answer, that she didn't have to think about too much, that weren't too personal. It was her preferred type of question, and she was hoping that the Mothfolk would stick to those. Of course, were she to ask about something else, Aria would answer her with her signature honesty, though she might be far less comfortable with those sorts of questions.\n\nShe really did wish the other's expression was more readable. Aria found it quite difficult to pin down what she was thinking, something that she had far less trouble with when conversing with those of most other species. She wondered if Vhun felt similarly about her, Aria had been told that she was hard to read many times in the past. She didn't mind that very much.\n\n\"I suppose, in your case, you might also want to consider flying away,\" Aria added after a moment. \"To be frank, I rarely converse with those that can fly, so the thought was not on the forefront of my mind. I myself prefer to fight over running away.\" And she hadn't lost a real fight in the past two decades at least. A few sparring matches here and there, but nothing of any consequence. \"Either way, they cannot fly. They must stick to the shadows, as they perish upon leaving them.\""
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun didn't know what else to say, or rather, write. She'd set her pencil down on her book by now, both hands now being used to hold up said book. This was perhaps a sign to Aria that Vhun was no longer, at least to her own perception, going to carry the conversation. She was out of questions, and after all, Aria had asked *Her* To follow her to keep talking. Certainly she had something she wanted to say.\n\nHer head tilted up further toward Aria, gaze settling on her face. She wondered what it was like to have a face that showed so much emotion. Though she couldn't tell exactly what this woman was feeling, she had to believe that those who spent more time around her certainly would. The mothfolk continued to nod along as she spoke. So they'd had the same thought. That was something. Wings were a useful thing, really.\n\nSlowly, Vhun's head fell into a tilt. Was she attempting to be rude about Vhun's previous actions? Or just trying to establish herself as some kind of combatant? Truly, the mothfolk really couldn't have cared less if she was a great warrior. She just found this entire interaction to be incredibly strange.\n\n*Good to know.*\n\nShe circled the previously written statement, thinking for a moment.\n\n*So that is what you were doing here? Just waiting for them to show up? Are you sure they don't follow you?*"
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "For a few moments, Aria thought that Vhun might be working on leaving. She seemed to have run out of questions, and was there really any reason for the two of them to converse after that? She considered apologizing again, but discarded the idea, feeling like she had done so plenty of times, and at this point, it might start to annoy the Mothfolk.\n\nThe reason that Aria had mentioned her way of dealing with the shades was simply because she felt it made sense in that context. She wasn't trying to brag or anything, and she felt Vhun had already gotten the impression that she was at least decent at fighting from the events of earlier.\n\nSurprisingly, she saw the Mothfolk write again, and read over her statement curiously. \"No, I was simply watching over the market.\" Actually... She might want to elaborate some on that. This conversation was quite pleasant, and Aria felt that she might want to put some effort into continuing it.\n\n\"I travelled to this city a few days back because I believe my Goddess has instructed me to do so. She told me as such in a dream, where...\" For once, her voice trailed off, and Aria hesitated, clearing her throat, her wings shifting somewhat, discomfort clear from her expression. \"The details are irrelevant. Either way, upon arriving here, I was told by several locals that they have been terrorized by monstrosities coming from the nearby swamp. Since I believe that is the most likely thing my Goddess wants me to do, I have been going in there for the past few days and combating whatever enemies may stray upon my path.\"\n\nA pause as she brought her left hand to her chest, where the pendant of her necklace hung, although it was hidden beneath her armor. Aria didn't mind, she knew it was there and that was good enough for her. \"However, even I require rest, so today is my day off, one could say. I cannot sit still doing nothing, though, so I decided to spend my day keeping watch here. I suppose it was a good thing that I did.\""
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun stared quietly at Aria. The woman's answer had spawned more questions in the mothfolk, but for now she didn't voice them. There was no reason to. The idea that one would make choices based on dreams was utterly foreign to her. The woman didn't seem unstable though. Maybe she really was speaking to her goddess. It was sort of odd that a goddess would care this much though. Maybe these creatures posed some kind of threat, or more likely, were an annoyance to this deity?\n\n*What does your goddess have to do with these things?*\n\nIt was a question that would be quite easy for her to misinterpret, Vhun realized, given that the woman had already given a fairly in-depth explanation. Given that she wasn't speaking out loud, and that she'd have to write a good bit more to elaborate, she'd just have to hope that her question wouldn't make her seem like she wasn't listening.\n\n*This is rest to you?*\n\nEven without the use of her voice, one could sense the judgement rolling off of Vhun. It wasn't necessarily hateful, but rather something akin to concern. Her free set of hands had set to fiddling with her shawl, the mothfolk trying to figure out what she wanted to say next. It still felt like she was, to some extent, interrogating this woman. It was likely the discomfort could be felt from both sides. The woman's face certainly made it seem like it could."
}
] | 309 | 2,072 |
428.75 | 2023-03-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Noting Vhun's lack of a comment on the topic of religion, Aria decided to drop it. She knew it was a sensitive topic to some, and despite what the Mothfolk might think, she didn't mean to offend. She simply just wasn't the best at conversing with people, mostly due to a lack of experience. It didn't help that she couldn't see the other's expressions at all, so she didn't have a clue of what she was feeling at all - really, Aria didn't even seem to notice the annoyance she was causing.\n\nAria was quiet for a few moments when Vhun mentioned her sisters. Should she mention that her own twin was long gone from this world? No, she didn't want to sour the conversation. It wasn't something she wished to discuss with a stranger either way. But how to respond in a way that wasn't rude? Perhaps some questions, asked from nothing but curiosity?\n\n\"What are your sisters like, then?\" Aria asked, hoping she wasn't coming off as too pushy. Then again, if she was, she was certain that Vhun could just leave, or tell her. \"Do you have many?\" She recalled hearing something about the Mothfolk, that they tended to have a lot of siblings, although she wasn't sure how accurate it was. It had been a long time since she'd interacted with any of them, after all, and she knew well enough that interacting with one member of a species was not going to show her what they were all like."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The mothfolk stood quietly for a long moment, allowing the two to fall into a period of quiet. She was giving the woman an opportunity to bow out from the conversation should she want to. This was perhaps not the easiest thing to determine, however, given that her own discomfort was not clear on her face. Her only motion was to slowly pull in her wings, the limbs rustling against each other with a sound something like the turning pages of a book as they folded. Her upper set of arms lifted to very slightly adjust her shawl. The garment was pushed back, now hanging partway over the furry sort of ruff just above her wings.\n\nNow this woman was asking her a question. That was new. Maybe she was getting the hang of how conversations worked now. Both people had to ask questions for it to work. The mothfolk picked her pencil up once more, beginning to write again. She had no shortage of siblings, after all. They were something she had no trouble talking about.\n\n*I have seven siblings, four are sisters. I am closer with two of them from my parent's brood before me. They are called Me'ret and Azai. I live with Azai.*\n\nShe folded the book in half at this, turning it allow Aria to read one page while she wrote on the other. Given the cluttering of the page with other phrases, she'd circled this one to allow for Aria to pick it out. Briefly, she wondered how well this woman would manage to pronounce their names. Their parents had done them a great service in making their names rather simple to sound out. On a second thought, she turned the book back to herself to add a little note.\n\nBelow the name \"Azai\", she drew an arrow pointing down to a short phrase.\n\n*Uh-z-eye.*\n\nBelow the name \"Me'ret\" She drew a similar arrow to another phonetic phrase.\n\n*May-rhet*\n\n\"Azai\"\n\nShe then spoke. The word was recognizable, but in Vhun's voice, it was really more of a humming sound with an at tpitched-up lilt at the end of her tone.\n\n\"Me'ret.\"\n\nThis name was also almost a hum, with the 'r' and 't' both having a distinct click to them. She'd spoken these names for a reason, to demonstrate the purpose in writing them out phonetically. It wasn't that she thought Aria was stupid, but rather that she didn't think she'd be able to understand Vhun's own spoken words."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Aria listened to the sound of Vhun's wings as they folded over each other, tilting her head somewhat. An interesting sound for sure. Kind of like paper, wasn't it? How very curious. Part of her was curious as to what the wings felt like to the touch, a much larger part of her knew that it was likely very uncomfortable to be asked that question. Aria herself knew that she always hated it - although she could at least appreciate it over people that just touched her wings. Then again, it didn't bother her all that much, because people that did so, usually ended up getting smacked by them, deservedly so, she found.\n\nHer eyes widened somewhat when reading the circled line on how many siblings Vhun had. *Seven?* Gods, Aria had barely survived having one sibling, but seven? She couldn't imagine what the chaos of that household must have been like. Somewhat related, she did note that Vhun seemed to be more interesting in talking to her when Aria actively engaged in conversation - not wholly unexpected.\n\nMe'ret and Azai, eh? Aria wondered how one was supposed to pronounce those, and quickly found out that it was as if Vhun had read her mind. She furrowed her brow somewhat in concentration as she listened to the hums and clicks, vaguely being able to pick out the sounds she was looking for. It made sense that the names would be close to unpronounceable for her, with their species being so different. \"Ah-z-hai,\" She tried. That didn't sound entirely right, and that other one seemed even more difficult to say aloud. \"Actually, I feel it might be best for both out sanity if I do not attempt to pronounce them any further.\" The slight smile she gave indicated that she was joking, and Aria was hoping that Vhun would understand that.\n_ _\n\n\"May I ask, how did you survive with that many siblings?\" Aria questioned. There were a lot of questions she could go for, and a lot of things she was curious about, but she decided to go to this one first. \"Are Mothfolk homes that much bigger than the ones we have here?\" She meant no offense, of course, she was just genuinely curious. A family dynamic like that was one that she struggled to understand, but she hoped to be able to. \"If I had that many siblings in an average-sized home... We likely would have gone insane before long.\""
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The mothfolk's wings tensed further for a brief moment, the woman seeming to want them to take up as little space as possible. They then relaxed with the same rustling paper sound as the limbs settled into their resting position. The woman's lower arms folded across her belly in a somewhat protective gesture, upper arms having settled into holding her book. Her head slowly nodded as the woman made an attempt at pronouncing her sister's names. They really weren't that complex when it came down to it, and if she couldn't say them, it really did seem like it was a question of effort rather than of difficulty. Regardless, the woman made a 'so-so' gesture with one hand. \n\nShe set back to writing. She'd be able to answer these questions with relative ease, at least. Perhaps she didn't know much of mothfolk aging. Few did. It wouldn't be that hard to avoid ratting herself out as being rather young at least. She was almost completely certain that this woman couldn't tell anything just by looking at her.\n\n*My parents had two broods. My two sisters are from the one before mine. They are eight years older than I am. We reach maturity at about ten. I only had three others in my brood.*\n\nIt took Vhun another minute of thinking to answer the second part of her question. She genuinely wasn't sure. It hadn't felt like her home was all too big, given that Vhun herself had been passed onto her siblings in the interest of saving space. She gave her head a brief shake to accompany her words.\n\n*No, not really. Our homes aren't that big. Not like any kind of estate or anything. I shared a room with my three brood-mates.*"
}
] | 437 | 1,715 |
371.25 | 2023-03-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "With a lack of feedback, positive or negative, she couldn't tell how much she was butchering the pronunciation, so Aria just had to assume that she was doing fine enough. Oh well, it was fairly unlikely she would ever meet one of the siblings in question, let alone recognize them as such, so indeed, it hardly mattered.\n\nReading the criticism on how she said Vhun's name, though, Aria nodded. That made a lot of sense, actually. \"Vhun,\" She said, trying to say it like she'd been told to, ignoring the 'h' that she'd put too much emphasis on earlier. This time, she felt more confident that she'd gotten it close to good enough, and gave the Mothfolk a slight smile, hoping that she would agree.\n\nSo she was from the area, then? Or, at least, she lived there. That was somewhat surprising. Well, Aria supposed her assumption had been close to right, with how Vhun mentioned they lived in the capital instead of Crasmere. \"I currently do not have a proper home location, but my sister and I were born in Khisfire.\" A fact that was surprising to most to learn, with the reputation of the kingdom being what it was.\n\nShe took a moment to read the statement, and then another few moments to reply, trying to figure out how to phrase it properly. \"We got along as well as twins can get along, back when she was still alive. She passed away many years ago.\" Another pause, once more she was attempting to figure out what to say and how to say it. \"But... I am glad to hear you get along with your siblings. It is a wonderful thing to have, and I do hope that you cherish them.\" Maybe a little bit of a weird thing to say to a stranger, but Aria didn't really care. She found it important enough to mention to risk weirding Vhun out."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun nodded, then, after a moment of hesitation, lifted her lower right hand to give a little thumbs-up. She wanted to make this affirmation of correctness as clear as possible. This had a two-part motivation. One, to make up for her lack of expression, and two, to make her stop trying. She didn't like the production that was being made of the pronunciations of the names of sisters and herself.\n\n\n*Khisfire? I haven't been there, but I wouldn't have guessed.*\n\nShe couldn't say she knew very much about the place, but she had heard of it. It wasn't anything that concerned her, given she had no intention of ever setting foot in that kingdom. There was no reason. More than that, she really didn't care to hear too much about the intricacies of a country such as that.\n\n*What was that like growing up?*\n\nThe mothfolk froze for a long moment at Aria's admission. Her twin was dead? Oh. She shouldn't have asked anything about her. That was incredibly awkward. The woman lowered her head in a rather solemn manner. She couldn't imagine losing any of her siblings, let alone a twin. It would be like losing a brood-mate, but perhaps a thousand times worse\n\n*I am sorry for your loss. Truly.*"
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Satisfied, Aria nodded, believing that she had done a fine enough job. She supposed knowing the names wouldn't be terribly relevant, as she found it unlikely they would meet again in the future, but it couldn't hurt either. Actually, she wondered if she would ever stumble across Vhun again. Would she recognize the Mothfolk at all? Aria had no idea how different they looked from each other, after all.\n\n\"It is far from the easiest place to grow up,\" Aria commented, thinking back on that time with a hint of a smile dancing around her lips. \"I suppose I was lucky that we lived on the outskirts of the country, where it is not as bad as the capital. Of course, there was still plenty of crime, and I was forced to learn to defend myself from a young age, but all in all, I could have had it much worse. It helped that my height made it so that people rarely dared to try and attack me.\" A light chuckle escaped her, and she fell silent, head tilted upwards slightly, gaze set on the sky. Despite the difficulties, those days were still relatively simple, and Aria often longed to return to them.\n\nLost in thought, it took her a few moments to look back at the Mothfolk and read what Vhun wrote next. Her smile soured and disappeared, and Aria gazed down at the weapon in her hands, right hand tightening a little around the handle. \"Thank you,\" She spoke solemnly, \"That means a lot.\" She didn't say anything after that, not wishing to elaborate on the events that took place on that day, the day she lost everything. It was an image that played on repeat many times in her head, and even now, Aria was unable to stop it from appearing in her mind's eye. Likely, it would haunt her until the day she died.\n_ _\n\nAbsently, she lowered her left hand to reveal the image carved into the claymore's pommel, gazing down at it. The symbol of Kamara was one that always brought her comfort, and it did so now as well. Aria breathed in, out, steadied herself, whispered a silent prayer to her goddess in her mind. \"It was a long time ago,\" She eventually uttered softly, and that was all she was going to say of the incident."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun was a rather distinct looking being, however she wasn't necessarily the most social. Though she was by no means a recluse, she did find herself just a bit hesitant to interact with those she did not know. She really was fond of others, but they weren't always all too friendly in return. Typically her clothing was the point of conversation —and an identifiable feature—but today Vhun was dressed very simply.\n\n*I see. That makes sense. It is good you made it out.*\n\nIt was a shame she'd put away the cards, Vhun thought. This would have been the perfect time to display good old number 11: *I understand.* It wasn't that she didn't want to talk, but rather that she didn't know what to say to such a description. Was she meant to recount some part of her own childhood? Or just acknowledge. The latter felt smarter..\n\nHer nods continued, albeit more slowly, as Aria returned to the subject of her twin. There were no questions to ask here. None that would do anything except hurt. There were a few days in Vhun's own life that she wouldn't want to think about, much less recount to a stranger. No. It was best to express sympathies, then allow Aria to lead the conversation away from here. \n\nVhun's eyes followed Aria's, landing on that enormous weapon of hers. Interesting. That religious symbol appeared to be some kind of comfort. She couldn't say she expected anything different, but it certainly was something to make note of."
}
] | 362.5 | 1,485 |
330 | 2023-03-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Aria nodded in response. \"Indeed, it is good. I do not believe it is a good place to live, personally.\" Was it a little judgemental? Probably, but having lived there, she knew better than most what it was like - and why it was a good thing to avoid the country if one could. Ever since leaving, she hadn't been back even once, and she hoped to be able to keep it that way.\n\nShe was glad that Vhun didn't ask about her sister. Indeed, it wouldn't accomplish anything but bring up memories that the Aasimar would really like to not think about right now. Of course, even if the Mothfolk had asked, Aria doubted that she was going to talk about it at all, but still, it was appreciated that she didn't have to do so at all.\n\nDeciding to set the thought out of her mind for now, Aria covered the symbol back up, feeling much better already. There was something about the act of prayer that brought a strange calm to her, and although she didn't quite understand it, she was glad about it.\n\nTurning her gaze back to Vhun, Aria was half expecting the Mothfolk to have written something. Apparently she was wrong, leaving the burden of carrying on the conversation to her. Well, there was a question she had been wondering about, actually. \"Might I ask, what brings you to this market today?\" The town was, frankly, depressing, and it was surprising to see someone who appeared as refined as Vhun here. It seemed that Aria was indeed attempting to steer the conversation away from the topic of her sister, going into a whole other direction instead."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "*I can see that. I do not think it would be a good place to live either.*\n\nThe mothfolk had no real basis for her opinion, but really didn't want to argue with this woman. There was no point, given that she had no hill to die on here. If Aria wished to criticize a place that she certainly knew far more about than Vhun, that was her prerogative. The mothfolk inclined her head to further drive her point.\n\nShe stood quietly for a moment, allowing Aria a moment to process what she could only assume were painful memories. She didn't want to change the subject for fear of being seen as insensitive, but at the same time she very much didn't know how to go from here. That was what happened, she thought, when you accidentally jumped ahead in the steps of disclosing information. This wasn't the kind of thing she thought was all too good for a first time meeting. It was her own fault though. She had asked.\n\n*I was hoping for supplies. Sometimes these places surprise you. I am a seamstress. Sometimes old clothing ends up in these markets, and some of the fabric is good to use.*\n\nThat was all she had to say on the matter, settling the pencil down in the split between pages and turning the notebook to face Aria. Hopefully this was good enough to carry on the conversation."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "\"But I suppose the place does have its charms,\" Aria continued after a moment. \"The night's sky in the desert is gorgeous, and the warm weather can be quite nice if one wears the right garments. I suppose it might not be the worst place for a visit, if one is so inclined.\" A pause, and then she continued, a slight smile on her lips. \"Although I supposed winged folks such as the two of us do not need to go to the desert for an unobstructed view of the sky.\"\n\nOnce more, she found her gaze drifting, looking up at the sky for a little bit, even if it was daytime right now and the stars were hidden. Sure, it hadn't been a perfect time growing up, but there were many fond memories attached to the place. Back then, when everything was so simple... Of course, Aria knew that it wasn't actually simple back then, that it was only how she perceived it when she was still a child. Still, the memories were pleasant enough to think about, especially right now in this dreary town.\n\nHearing Vhun write again, she pulled herself back to reality and read the words, giving a curious expression. A seamstress? Now that was certainly unexpected. Aria kept her surprise hidden, though, not wanting to give off the wrong message.\n\n\"Have you found anything of interest?\" She couldn't help it, she glanced at Vhun's clothing, trying to see if there were any details that pointed to how good she was of a seamstress. Then again, she supposed that in a swampy place such as this one, one shouldn't be bringing their best clothing because it would only return damp and possibly ruined forever - Aria had made that mistake before."
}
] | 350 | 990 |
330.416667 | 2023-03-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun nodded along as she spoke, having little to add. She could agree with most of this, but she did think that the stars looked better out in quiet areas. Though there wasn't all too much light, the lonely torch or lit home was somewhat distracting. However, Vhun herself didn't get out at night as much as she thought she should. Flying at night was something she was intensely fond of, given her nature, but she also really did prefer to work late into the night. Thus, there was a choice to be made, and she tpically chose work.\n\nHer gaze followed Aria's upward. It was still bright out. What was she looking at? Vhun couldn't see anything. Odd. Her gaze settled back on the winged woman before her. Perhaps she was lost in thought. That was not a bad thing as far as she was concerned. No, this woman clearly had a late on her plate.\n\nThe question at least gave Vhun something to add. It wasn't anything of any substance, but it was something. She gave her head a small shake as she began to write, hoping that this gesture would make up for the slight delay in her response time.\n\n*Unfortunately not. Nothing here has been both cheap and good enough for me to bother. I understand it's a contradiction.*\n\nHer clothing wasn't necessarily fancy today, but it was very clearly well made. The slacks she wore fit her rather spindly legs quite well, and the shirt accommodated all four of her arms without any strange bunching or clear modification. Her knitted shawl was perhaps the shabbiest thing she wore, and even that was very clearly made with the biology of a mothfolk in mind. It was far longer than it was wide, meant to wrap her arms without interfering with her wings.\n\n*Have you?*\n\nThis question was accompanied by a tiny smiley face, one that Vhun quickly added a pair of antennae to. This was her way of showing her feelings without the ability to actually smile."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Unfortunately, Aria lacked the skills necessary to see how well-made the Mothfolk's outfit was. Sure, she could see that it was definitely made for her, and it fit her quite nicely, but that was about where the extent of what she could see ended. Oh well, it wasn't like she had any right to judge, her own armor was equally simple in design, and although it was clean, it also had a decent amount of scratches and other minor damage, simply from how much it had been worn.\n\n\"I understand,\" She replied, looking out at the market. \"One has to be careful with spending money. It is unfortunate you have not found what you are looking for.\" A thought came to mind, and Aria glanced to a stall ahead and slightly to the left. It was small and kind of hidden behind all the people and the other stalls, but from her vantage point, she could clearly see it. \"Have you checked out the stall over there yet?\" Aria asked, pointing at it with her left hand. It carried some fabrics, although she didn't know their quality or price - nor did she knew if Vhun had already been there, but it couldn't hurt to suggest it.\n\nWhen Vhun asked her own question back to her, the Aasimar hesitated for a moment, returning her hand to her claymore. What was she asking? If she'd found anything Vhun was looking for, or if she'd found the thing Aria was looking for? She decided the latter was more likely, so that was the one she decided to answer.\n\n\"I cannot say that I have, no. It is partially because I do not know what I am looking for in this town just yet. But I am certain Kamara will guide me to it, whatever it may be.\" Although Aria would have liked to talk more about the goddess in question, judging from how Vhun hadn't asked about it earlier, that wasn't something the Mothfolk wished to discuss very much. Oh well, Aria could respect that."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The woman had, in fact, noticed the dents and scratches in Aria's armor, but hadn't commented. She wasn't a metal worker, and she had absolutely no expertise to offer. When a piece required metal embellishments, she simply outsourced the making of this part to a blacksmith or other metalworker. It was typically fancier pieces that required such embellishments, fancier pieces that were Vhun's favorite things to make.\n\nHer head turned in the direction of the stall. That was, in fact, the first place that she'd looked. However, she wasn't going to say that directly to Aria. She counted to three in her head, giving what she hoped was the illusion of contemplation. At the end of these three seconds, she turned her head back to the winged woman.\n\n*I have. Nothing there I can't get at home, unfortunately. I have to fly it back with me, so if it's nothing special it's not worth it.*\n\nShe hoped this made sense, and it was clear that she gave this statement a bit more thought than the previous few. She scanned it over for a long few seconds before she turned it over to Aria. Perhaps this was the one area in which she had a communicative advantage: she was able to essentially \"Un-say\" Things that she didn't truly want.\n\nVhun turned the page and gave another long pause. She didn't know what to say.\n\n*I hope you find what she is guiding you toward.*\n\nThere. That was polite and safe."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "Aria waited patiently for Vhun to look at the stall, imagining that perhaps the Mothfolk was taking some time to recall if she had been there yet or not. It was a little difficult to see for someone that wasn't of her height, so she understood perhaps having to wait a couple of seconds until the crowds parted enough to look through.\n\nThen there was the time needed to write the response, and Aria decided to take the time to stretch her wings, opening their full length for a few seconds before settling them back down - after making sure that no one was nearby so that she wouldn't accidentally smack them in the face, of course. When conversing with most people, she would have refrained, but she suspected that Vhun would understand the movement as being nothing more than a simple stretch. She also rolled her shoulders slightly, and adjusted her stance to be a little more comfortable, all in the time it took Vhun to look and write her response.\n\n\"That is unfortunate,\" Aria spoke after reading the words. \"I understand what you mean. It is more difficult to fly while carrying something, so it has to be worth it, right?\" Well, it wasn't all that accurate in her case, she was strong enough to carry even the most useless of garbage with ease when she wasn't wearing her heavy armor. However, Vhun looked a fair bit skinnier than her, and her wings appeared to be much more delicate as well, so she could understand the need to be more selective.\n\nYeah, it seemed she was right, Vhun didn't appear to be wanting to discuss the matter of her goddess. Aria could understand that too, and she wasn't going to force her into a conversation she didn't want to have. \"I am certain that she will,\" She spoke, content with leaving the topic there. To many, Aria's blind faith was a little odd, or even ridiculous, but she didn't care very much about what others thought. All that mattered was her own faith."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun's head quickly snapped up as Aria's wings opened. Was she taking off? Or just stretching. Stretching. Interesting. It was something that she herself did frequently, and as such it wasn't anything that she didn't pay too much attention to. It was only noteworthy because the movement caught her eye. Was she getting antsy and wanting to leave? It was possible, and Vhun thought that it was worthwhile to start wrapping things up.\n\n*Yes, very much so. I suppose you can relate to that.*\n\nAs she set down her pencil, Vhun lifted her hand to gesture to Aria's own wings. For a short moment, a pang of jealousy wracked Vhun. Aria's wings were quite the impressive things. They looked a lot less rickety than her own, and they were quite a bit bigger. She quickly pushed this aside, however. Big, feathery wings would look quite silly on her.\n\n*I am glad you are certain. It is good to have peace.*\n\nThis phrase came after a long moment of hesitation.\n\n*Well. I must be going, I'm afraid. It was lovely to meet you.*\n\nThe mothfolk took a slow step back, closing her book in one fluid motion. Her own wings slowly moved to half-open and flutter, mirroring the action Aria had taken. The day was growing late, and she very much didn't want to be trapped outside with these shades around. No, it would be far better to start making for home now."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "\"I can relate somewhat, yes,\" Aria spoke. It wasn't exactly a lie, in the past, she'd struggled with carrying things many times. It had been a long time since that was a problem, though, as she'd gotten plenty strong in the years since then. Absently, she folded her wings back down, and a single small feather drifted to the ground, landing at her feet.\n\nShe noted the gaze upon her wings, and although she didn't quite know what Vhun was thinking or feeling with her lack of visible expressions, Aria didn't mind that she was looking at them. It was something about herself that she was quite proud of, after all, with the feathers quite well taken care of. And yes, even though she had nothing to do with that, she quite liked their size as well.\n\nAria nodded when reading Vhun's writing. It was indeed getting late, and it probably would be wise for the Mothfolk to begin heading home. The nights here were far from safe - and besides, the market went away at night, so there likely wasn't going to be anything of interest to her here anyway.\n\n\"Of course,\" She said with a slight smile. \"It has been lovely meeting you too.\" For half a second, she considered saying Vhun's name at the end of that sentence, but somehow she felt like she'd just get the pronunciation wrong, so she refrained. \"I do wish you safe travels, and may you find what you are looking for,\" Aria said instead. She herself was making no attempt to leave, but did lift a hand in a wave goodbye, smiling still. Not a bad meeting overall, in her eyes."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Vhun gave a little hum in return to Aria's words. She'd already closed her book, and though she could sense it was likely she'd have to open it again, she was going to try to avoid doing so, at least for the moment. It was always good to make a set of clear actions toward departure. It was less confusing that way.\n\nHer eyes had slowly settled back on Aria's wings, watching as they moved once more. Her head tilted down, eyes settling on that lone feather. It was beautiful, in a way. White feathers like that were something Vhun seldom saw in her work. They were hard to procure given the lack of demand, but there always was the occasional person who wished for a feather hat or embellishments on sleeves. Perhaps, she thought, she could start buying molted feathers off aasimar and aarakocra...\n\nShe pushed the thought aside. It was pointless and utterly random.\n\nAnother nod. The woman flipped her book back open to write another phrase.\n\n*You as well. I hope you too find what you're looking for.*\n\nShe took a small step back, her wings slowly fanning open. This was a slow gesture, the woman wanting to avoid smacking her wings on anything. Those black and white sail-like wings were simply held open, Vhun waiting for the aasimar to move first."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "She noted the Mothfolk seemed to be looking at something, and followed her gaze, finding the feather that had started drifting to the ground. Turning slightly, Aria crouched down a little and extended her left hand, gently catching the thing in her gloved hand before it landed on the ground. With a white so pure that it almost seemed to glow, and a softness that was incredibly rare in just about anything, Aria felt it was a bit of a waste to just let it go to waste. Actually... Did Vhun feel the same way?\n\nStanding back up straight, she held out the feather to Vhun. \"Would you like to have it?\" She asked, shrugging lightly. \"I have no use for it.\" The thing was no larger than the size of her hand, which might seem big, until one looked at the longest feathers of her wings, which were at least two feet in length. Maybe it was a strange thing to offer, but Aria hadn't even noticed it until Vhun looked at it, and it probably would have landed on the filthy ground without her. It seemed fitting to at least offer.\n\nWatching her flip open the book to write once more, Aria gave a nod in response to her statement. \"Thank you. It is appreciated.\" While she could go into a whole thing about how she was certain her goddess would point her in the right direction, there was no use - especially not when Vhun seemed about to leave anyway. Speaking of, why wasn't she doing so?\n\nDid Vhun think Aria was heading out too, and was she waiting for her to do so? It seemed likely. \"I will be staying here for a while longer,\" Aria stated, gesturing vaguely at her surroundings. She hadn't been told yet what she was supposed to do, after all, so she needed some time to figure out her purpose here, probably a few days at least."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "If Vhun had been capable of blushing, she would have. So her gaze had been noticed. Typically, Vhun thought, she was very good at hiding where she was looking. Apparently not today. She dipped her head in what she hoped was an apologetic matter. Her unoccupied set of arms folded across her body in a somewhat protective manner.\n\nShe took a long moment to consider her answer. It was a very pretty feather, and she had offered it, but it also had fallen off her body. It was perhaps akin to accepting a chunk of hair that had fallen off her. However, it did seem rude to potentially reject this gift...\n\n*I suppose. It is very nice. Thank you.*\n\nThat was all she could say, her hand slowly extending out to take the feather. If nothing else, it would make a very nice quill. The feather was certainly sturdy enough to do so.\n\n*I will see you later in that case.*\n\nSo she was staying. That made sense. The mothfolk slowly nodded her head once more, and then moved to start backing away, heading out and back into the market."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "And if one thought about it, was it really that much weirder than using a bird's feather for something? Hell, Aria had given it away willingly, unlike a bird, who wouldn't even be able to say no. Either way, she really didn't mind, it was just a feather, she lost hundreds of them a month. And it wasn't even a particularly noteworthy one, she would have been much more reluctant to offer one of her primaries if one of those had fallen.\n\nSmiling lightly, she once more rested her hand on her weapon, glad to see the feather go to someone who might appreciate it more. \"Of course,\" She simply said, not feeling like there was anything else to say about the matter. The conversation did seem to be coming to an end, and Aria was fine with that, she supposed she should get back to her duties anyway.\n\n\"Indeed, I will see you later.\" See her later? Were the two of them really going to run into each other again? Maybe some day in the future, but Aria doubted it would be soon. Still, it was a nice thought, she found the interaction to be quite pleasant and didn't mind the thought of talking to Vhun again. She watched as the Mothfolk began backing away, a bit curious about what she was going to do. Was she going to take off or just walk away? Only one way to find out, she supposed."
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The mothfolk spun on her heels once she was about ten feet away from Aria, making her way toward the edge of the crowd. Her wings had steadily been opening as she moved away, gaining more space for herself. She'd need to fully open her wings before she could take off, and that wasn't possible within the crowd.\n\nShe took a final look back at Aria, then stowed her book in her bag, tied the thing shut, and allowed her wings to fully open. The presence of these limbs somehow made her body look complete, or at the very least made her look larger than she was. With her wings folded in, Vhun did appear a lot smaller, or at least ganglier, than she was.\n\nHer leap into the air was a graceful thing, with her wings beginning to beat in the second before her feet left the ground. She didn't bother looking back as she took off, instead seeming focused on gaining the necessary altitude without making a fool of herself. The moth was rather self conscious of how she looked flying. It didn't take long at all for her to gain height, then speed, and then make her way far from the market..."
},
{
"author": "Aria",
"message": "She couldn't help it, Aria kept her gaze on Vhun as she flew away, finding it quite an interesting thing to look at. Their wings were so very different, and Aria noted that the Mothfolk didn't stir up nearly as much dust as the Aasimar usually did when she took off. It was a pretty thing to look at, either way, and she was glad to witness it. Although Vhun didn't seem to be looking back, she held up a hand in a wave goodbye anyway, just in case.\n\nWell, she supposed that was the end of it, then. Letting out a sigh, Aria straightened her back and turned her attention back to the crowd, hand lowering once more. Maybe she should converse with people more often, she absently thought to herself. And perhaps those conversations shouldn't start with what looked like an attempted murder next time. Oh well, that was a thing she could worry about later.\n\nAfter all, night was going to fall, and Aria knew she would need all of her energy to slay whatever creatures dared approach from the swamp. She wouldn't let any of the citizens get hurt by them, no matter what. Once more, she began scanning over the place, watchful eyes taking in every detail and suspicious movement, ready to strike at a moment's notice."
}
] | 315.5 | 3,965 |
501.666667 | 2023-05-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "Business had, unfortunately, been rather slow for the mothfolk known as Vhun, and she'd found herself with abundant free time. She didn't like this, given that an abundance of free time meant a shortage of income, but one could make do. Azai, at least, could make use of her time. That was why Vhun had found herself at this market again. It wasn't that the market was good, but rather that she'd seen fabric here that would potentially match Azai's newly ruined bag. It had been a gift from Vhun herself years prior, and had recently become the victim of heavy books tearing right through the bottom of the thing. It needed to patched, given that Azai was unwilling to part with it.\n\nThe mothfolk had settled herself in front of a table of fabric, fabric that she'd determined to almost certainly be secondhand. That was what she was looking for. Though the integrity of such things was questionable, she was very certain that Azai would be more careful in the future. That, and the newly patchwork bag would look a bit less odd if all fabric looked about the same age. \n\nVhun was quite caught up in her thoughts, but she was not entirely ignorant of her surroundings, given that the nature of her eyes allowed her quite the range of vision. She was an odd looking woman to say the least, being best described as insectoid. Her eyes were her most prominent feature, these being overlarge, bulbous, and a striking shade of black. Her skin was a fairly similar hue, a dark gray barely distinguishable from the color of her eyes. This gray was broken up by a streak of white fur-hair that blazed across her face, spanning from between her antennae to just above her mouthparts.\n\nDespite her insectoid nature, Vhun was dressed quite nicely. The majority of her body was covered by a long black jacket, one that was clearly made specifically to fit the lanky four-armed woman. From behind, little of the detail could be seen, save for the long slits cut to accommodate Vhun's wings. These were impressive things, nearly as long folded as Vhun was tall. The larger forewings were white crossed with almost geometric shapes of black, the hindwings being a rather striking shade of orange blotted with similar black shapes. These wings were slightly open, as if providing a sort of barrier to keep people from getting too close to the rest of the mothfolk's body. Her lower set of hands too were held in an odd position, the right settled on a pouch at her hip and the left held rigidly partway out from her frame."
},
{
"author": "Zephyra Laskarina",
"message": "*Fabric was always in need when one was engaged in sailing. Zephyra had learned her lesson on that particular point long ago - when she had first set out with her captain and their crew, the men had been wearing threadbare clothing, and none had seen the need to improve their condition. That simply would not do - and though many of them were handy with a needle and thread, it was not enough to be handy. One needed the proper material, clean and plentiful, for bandages and skirts, whatever the case might be. \n\nSo it was that the elven woman entered the Crasmere market, stalking amongst the lanes for a good seller of fabric. Both sackcloth and silk were in need, and a bolt of each would do the captain well, along with good strong material for patching sails. As she looked through the market, her eyes alit upon a stall with various strips of cloth laid out - secondhand, of course, so as not to deplete their hard-earned money, but some secondhand shops could be gems in the rough. \n\nStill, one tended to get what she paid for, unless the merchant was unintelligent or exceptionally kind, and from what she knew of merchants, precious few were willing to bankrupt themselves in search of kindness. With head held high, she settled in alongside a rather peculiar-looking mothfolk, beginning her search for the strong cotton first - something that would hold up against the wind.\n\nZephyra was a relatively sturdy looking woman, fit as an athlete, with with hands used to work and a well-proportioned form. Her nose and jaw were striking, and her eyebrows were strong. Many scars striped her hands and forearms, a mixture of knife marks, rope burn, and regular burns.*\n\n_ _\n*She had put on a sensible skirt of navy blue, a blouse of white, and a jacket of the same navy, with a white scarf bundling her hair back and covering her head, and a wide sash of navy and white stripes tied around her waist. Into it were tucked a dagger, intricate in its brass engravings, and a long cutlass, of the same make, with a wooden handle and elaborate brass scabbard. As she eyed the display, her focus turned to Vhun for a moment as she spied a glimpse of a rough beige homespun that might fit her needs on the other side of the mothfolk.*\n\n\"Is that burlap?\" *She asked, voice high and clear, indicating the taupe fabric with a quick point of the chin which seemed to stay aloft like a pennant in the wind.*"
},
{
"author": "maddyishere",
"message": "The mothfolk didn't move to acknowledge Zephyra, though she did shift her gaze toward the woman. This required no movement at all, given the nature of her eyes. Really, given that they appeared to be little more than inky pupiless pits, the woman was more than confident in her ability to stare with impunity. This woman did seem a little strange though. Especially that weapon. Slowly, her head turned very subtly in the direction of Zephyra, examining her. The two were the same height, though very different in terms of species. Her clothing and scars were what truly caught her attention. She was rather scarred, and while that wasn't all too odd, it was noteworthy, especially given the lack of effort to cover them. Ah well. It wasn't her business.\n\nBesides, staring was rude.\n\nGood thing she wasn't obvious about it.\n\nVhun's antennae —the right of which was very slightly shorter than the left—twitched rather severely as she was addressed. Her gaze shifted to the fabric. Yes, that was very clearly burlap. She had to hope that the question was hypothetical. Slowly, Vhun turned her head toward Zephyra, regarding her with an unreadable stare before she spoke in Ivathi.\n\n\"No, that's obviously silk.\"\n\nThe tone in which the sarcastic statement was spoken did not match the words whatsoever. Instead, she was relying on the assumption that this woman didn't speak a word of Ivathi, and would instead take the friendly tone as a means of affirmation. It was more than likely that Vhun's words would sound like little more than hums and clicks to Zephyra. However, there was a warmth to her voice that did suggest she was being friendly. As she spoke, the mothfolk reached out to pick up the large piece of burlap in her two left hands and offer it to Zephyra. \n\n\"Here.\"\n\nOnce more she spoke in Ivathi, waiting for the woman to either speak in return or express confusion."
}
] | 535 | 1,505 |
259 | 2021-11-18 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Mia Rkk'Touha",
"message": "══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════\n\n*The bar was bustling with chatter, as mostly tough-looking men inhabited the tables. But, albeit they were tough-looking, in this world, it is not that uncommon for weak-looking persons to turn out to be powerful, due to their magic abilities. But, there were few here, at the bar. The fact that it was near the coast (and therefore the docks), made it a very common place to see sailors and possibly pirates, although those were as rare as the chance of me ever getting a new actual friend (not to be confused with acquaintance) ;w;*\n\n*Mostly unnoticed, a satyr went up to the counter, and placed a few coins on it. She ordered a strong alcoholic drink, better known as a Moscow Mule, consisting of vodka, spicy ginger beer and lime juice, garnished with a slice or wedge of lime. 9 parts vodka, 2 parts lime juice and 24 parts ginger beer. Yes, I wrote that down from Wikipedia, since I'm still underage, but I'm slowly getting there.*\n\n*Anyhow, the satyr, right. She was dressed in scholar-esque apparels, and had white hair and glasses. Nothing too fancy, apart from the \"Horn-rings\", which were earrings, but for horns, and you don't pierce anything. Now then, back to reality. The satyr was drinking her cocktail, and yet, it didn't seem to affect her much... But, since she ordered a coffee after that, it did seem that one was enough for the satyr. Trying out new things, maybe?*\n\n══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════"
},
{
"author": "Franklin 'Stormborn' Jones",
"message": "*The shouts of several rowdy men echoed throughout the crowded tavern. One group in particular, the crew of a recently arrived ship, were singing a shanty over their drinks. Their rough voices sent a rousing melody through the tavern.*\n\n*Their captain sat in a corner table, sipping some water while keeping an eye on his men. His face was one of mild annoyance. He wasn't one for drink, it turned men into fools and lead to just as much trouble. But he had to keep morale up so here he was, keeping them out of trouble.*\n\n*One man started getting angr with another person, and Franklin was having none of it. The two men started shouting at each other and the man pulled out a belaying pin. With a shout, Franklin momentarily silenced the whole tavern.*\n\n\"Oldroyd! Put that belaying pin away or it'll be twenty at the gratings tomorrow.\" *With the expression of a puppy caught in mischief, the sailors put the pin down.*"
},
{
"author": "stereoescort",
"message": "══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════\n\n*Although flinching at first, at the cap'n's shout, once the satyr saw the expression of the sailor, she giggled, trying to suppress laughter. As a result, she also almost spat out the coffee she had taken a mouthful of. She looked like she could be laughed at as well, for the same, or at least, similar reasons.*\n\n*But, she wasn't one to start a conversation. The satyr preferred to not talk much, mostly talking only if necessary. But of course, in this crowd, although she was the only female that wasn't working here, she still wouldn't be too visible in the crowd... But the book she was reading, seemed quite interesting. Its covers were pitch-black, and seemed to have a lot of wear on them, but still were completely dark!*\n\n══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════"
}
] | 208 | 777 |
204.333333 | 2021-11-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Franklin 'Stormborn' Jones",
"message": "*Franklin stood up after berating the rowdy sailor, and walked over to the counter. Still mildly annoyed by his men, he still appreciated and respected his crew. They were good men, and he had kept them out of jail fairly well. Besides, their antics were sometimes funny. He sat down among his men, and asked what they had been fighting about.*\n\n\"Jenkins was sayin' that the sturgeon I was about to land was no more than a minnow. I'm telling ye, that fish was at least a 4 footer!\" *The sailor was obviously invested in proving that fact, but all the other sailors and the captain looked like he was pulling a fast one.*\n\n\"Oldroyd, that's the fith four-footer you say you've lost in the past week. I want to know how you get 5 bites in a week and not land one? I think your snagging driftwood and calling it an eel.\" *The other sailors burst out laughing, and Oldroyd sputtered and stuttered, trying, to think of a response before conceding with* \"If ye want driftwood cap'n it isn't hard to find, but I'm tell'n ye, that was the biggest sturgeon yet, and I'll prove it by catching the next one and cooking it up for me supper!\""
},
{
"author": "stereoescort",
"message": "══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════\n\n*The satyr lady had been intrigued in the (loud) conversation the sailors were having. She didn't see much things like this, probably because she didn't usually go anywhere outside her home for most of the time, so this made her postpone the reading she had planned to do here, so she put the pitch-black covers into her bag. These men did seem rather jolly, which she probably needed more in her life, since books were her only friends (reminds me of myself, again).*\n\n*But, because our characters haven't actually interacted yet, the satyr decided to approach (haha funny jojo reference) the captain, to do a little chatter, which she also haven't done in a while, so she seemed maybe a bit nervous. The satyr decided to open the conversation with a question that seemed a bit obvious.*\n\n-Is this your crew?-\n\n══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════"
},
{
"author": "Franklin 'Stormborn' Jones",
"message": "*He looked up at the satyr. He had a slight grin on his face. Oldroyd was usually so quick witted, but introduce alcohol and the man couldn't win an argument with a brick.*\n\n\"Aye lassie, these sun-dried rum soaked lads with their hand covered in more tar than a rotten pine tree are my crew.\" *He'd chuckle a little* \"Good men usually, but introduce booze and things start to slip. I don't drink, so I'm the poor sot who's got to keep their hides out of jail.\""
}
] | 220 | 613 |
141 | 2021-11-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "stereoescort",
"message": "══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════\n\n-Oh, I myself rarely drink, unlike, from what I've heard, others from my kind. I don't live close to town, so I only come here when I need to, such as to look at the latest book supply. They come around once a week, but often once in two, so it's not common to see me here. But, the caravan hasn't arrived yet, but they should do so soon.-\n\n*Seeing this as a possible conversation opener, the book-loving satyr explained to the sailor. Although she did drink a whole cup of a strong drink, there didn't appear to be any ill effects.*\n\n══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════"
},
{
"author": "totalwartitan",
"message": "\"Books huh? Honestly these men could afford to read a few. I need better officers. Ye can't find your way on the open sea without knowin' a bit o' math. Even so, they're good men the same. Pity they're all drunk, rolling around like a sloop in a storm.\"\n\n*He'd glare at his men. One in particular had passed out on the counter, his half empty mug still in his hand.*\n\n\"At least I can keep them sober when we're at sea. I promise you, ye never want to be in a squall with drunk topmen and the swamps o' Blackwater under your lee."
},
{
"author": "stereoescort",
"message": "══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════\n\n*Due to the heavy accent, the satyr had a few problems understanding bits of the captain's speech, but she got the main idea of what he wanted to say. But she was a bit hesitant to admit that she in fact, wasn't that skilled at math, knowing only the basics. She probably didn't know how to use a... What was that thing which used the sun to do stuff called?*\n\n-If you say so. I haven't actually been on the sea. What's it like?-\n\n══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════"
},
{
"author": "totalwartitan",
"message": "*His slightly annoyed expression changed to one of happiness in an instant.*\n\n\"What's it like? I'll tell ye. Picture this. Yer on the deck of the ship, the wind at yer back. Ye can hear the sound of yer bow cutting through the waves, yer sails taught in the gale. It's hard work to run a ship, but you get to see the world. It's a life of adventure. Not for the faint of heart or the weak of stomach, but if you've got the gut to do it, ye'll never regret it.\""
}
] | 139.5 | 564 |
140.571429 | 2021-11-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Mia Rkk'Touha",
"message": "══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════\n\n-Sounds interesting... The way you put it, I might actually try sailing.-\n\n*The satyr didn't get nauseous from the waving that happens on sea (partially due to the fact that I haven't been nauseous on the sea either, so it's kind of hard to imagine), but she was a bit hesitant to leave all her books unsupervised... But then again, she hadn't had visitors since... Well, she began living where she lived. Overall, her home was quite secure, since nobody knew its exact location. After a bit of thinking, the satyr decided.*\n\n-Maybe... I could try sailing with you and your men? I promise I won't get in the way.-\n\n══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════"
},
{
"author": "Franklin 'Stormborn' Jones",
"message": "*He sat thinking for a few minutes, stroking his beard. He considered the pros and cons. He could use some more hands, but he doubted the lass had any experience. And then there was the... Nature of his particular work. Perhaps he could do a legitimate cargo run, at least until he knew he could trust her.*\n\n\"Are ye sure lassie? Life on a ship, while great, is more an acquired taste. It's crowded and smelly below decks. Food isn't the best. Landlubbers tent to have a hard time adjusting to the day to day.\""
},
{
"author": "stereoescort",
"message": "══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════\n\n*She hadn't thought about it this way. Food wasn't a problem, since she could live off rocks (metaphorically), but the satyr disliked crowds to the point she feared them... Thankfully for her, the bar was spacious enough for everyone. And yet, her decision remained unshaken.*\n\n-I'm sure. After all, I haven't moved out of my routine for a while, so any new experience is welcome.-\n\n══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════"
},
{
"author": "Franklin 'Stormborn' Jones",
"message": "*He sighed deeply, obviously trying to work out the logistics of the proposed venture.*\n\n\"Alright lass. I'll take ye to sea. Be at the docks at no later than 4 bells. 6 'o clock in lubber's words. Pack a chest of everything ye think ye need. One chest only. And I hope ye don't mind hard work. There's no room on my ship for dead weight.\""
},
{
"author": "Mia Rkk'Touha",
"message": "══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════\n\n-Will be done.-\n\n*Finally the satyr had a use for her rather powerful legs. Goat dynasty, and we all know that goats defy gravity, and jump higher than the Eiffel tower. As for the chest she had to pack, it wasn't going to be much. The satyr didn't want any of her books to drown, so all she really needed were a few sets of clothes, and some general purpose items.*\n\n-Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Mia Rkk'Touha.-\n\n══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════"
},
{
"author": "Franklin 'Stormborn' Jones",
"message": "*He stood up and checked the clock. If they were to set sail he had to go gather his crew. The half dozen men in the tavern was one part of the crew, and the rest were probably in other taverns throughout the city, and this was going to take a while.* \n\n\"Captain Franklin Jones. I hope to see ye bright and early. Fair warning, if you're not there on time, I'm leaving without ye.\" *He turned towards his men.* \"Alright lads! Down whatever ye got left, it's time to make ready the ship. Tomorrow we set sail for Beggars Isle!\" \n\n*The crew let loose with cheers and shouts as they filed out of the tavern. Franklin also stood to go, and held his hand out for a handshake.* \"6 o'clock on the dot. Got it? I'll see you there.\""
},
{
"author": "Mia Rkk'Touha",
"message": "══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════\n\n-I'll be there, don't worry.-\n\n*Shaking the captain's hand, Mia's face had lit up in a smile, where anticipation, joy and determination mixed into one. Don't ask me how that works, because I don't know. As the last of the crew left, so did the satyr, hurrying back home to get a good night's rest, and get ready for tomorrow... The day she first sets sail on sea.*\n\n══════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════════"
}
] | 132 | 984 |
227.666667 | 2022-01-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Franklin 'Stormborn' Jones",
"message": "*Captain Jones walked through the door, followed by several dozen men all laughing and joking with each other. Old Stormborn seemed amused, seeing Captain Salvatore sitting near the bar, walked over to the Mad Rose's captain, taking a seat nearby, politely tipping his hat to the bartender as he sat down.*\n\n\"That was quite the day we had, I trust you brought your coin, a deal's a deal. And I do hope all your crew are unharmed. One of my lads fell overboard in the fight. Thankfully he could swim and we got him out no problem. Thankfully for you, I don't drink. Alcohol is rather unpleasant in my experience.\" *He turned to the woman in charge of the bar, and asked.* \"I'd like just water for me.\""
},
{
"author": "Nym Kershaw",
"message": "Nym huffed, attempting to ignore the slight blush arising on her cheeks. \"Well, I'm glad you're okay and your trip went relatively well, *Love*,\" She responded to the pirate. When Nikko made his way on Caspian's shoulder, Nym couldn't help but smile. She had such a soft spot for animals.\n\nNym's eyebrows rose, hearing the second pirate speaking to Caspian. \"*Coin?* *Deal?* I hope you didn't forget about your rather long tab here,\" She spoke to the gensai, her eyes narrowing. \n\nGrabbing a pitcher and a glass, the barkeeper poured a water for the second pirate, offering it with a smile. \"Here you go! Anything else? Perhaps a hot meal after your journey?\" She asked."
},
{
"author": "Caspian 'The Swindler' Salvator",
"message": "\"Yeah about that-\"\n\nBefore Caspian could finish, Captain Jones' crew entered the tavern, filling it to capacity and causing the Genasi to scoff and laugh, her face full of guilt as she peered back to Nym. Hearing Jones' voice behind her, Caspian turned and offered a dull smile at the mention of coin, nodding her head as if she were the richest woman alive. \"Of course, Franklin, of course. I'm glad your men and your ship are safe and all. Nikko began to chatter a bit, catching Caspian attention and drawing it back to the half-orc behind the bar. The look on Nym's face quickly caused Caspian to smile as best she could, the mention of her tab causing the pirate to stutter a bit.\n\n\"I- Oh.. Come on now, Nym, don't be that way. These fine gentlemen have taken down a mighty *Mesodile!* Who am I to deprave them of alcohol and a drunken night of shanties, hm?\" Caspian tilted her head a bit toward Nym, her eyes filled with a suave mischief that only someone with ulterior motived would have. \"Oh, do me one more favor love-\" Lowering her voice, Caspian leaned in a bit, her eyes snaking up and down the half-orc rather scandalously. *\"-just once more, hm?\"*"
},
{
"author": "Nym Kershaw",
"message": "Nym grew a tad bit frustrated. Caspian always seemed to cause a ruckus at the Wayfinder's Rest, especially with her. Nym stood her ground. \"You can't be serious...\" She replied, looking at the tens of pirates that entered her tavern. Running a frustrated hand through her white hair at Caspian's antics, Nym huffed. \"How do you expect me to make a profit if you never pay your tab?\" She asked the pirate before her. Mumbling something to herself along the lines of \"I need a drink,\" Nym turned around and poured herself a glass of beer."
},
{
"author": "Caspian 'The Swindler' Salvator",
"message": "Frowning slightly, Caspian stood straight once more, her eyes wondering away from the half-orc. With her usual flirtatious tactics not working, the water genasi allowed herself a long moment to ponder just what she could do to make it up to Nym. \"Hm..\" Caspain glanced back to the overcrowded bar and her eyes lit up with excitement. Jumping on top of the bar, Caspian shouted over the loud voices that filled the tavern, each conversation dying down a bit as she did so. \"Alright boys! You want your beer, you'd best sing as loud as you can for it, aye?\" Laughing along with the cheers of the sailors from both the *Thunderhead* And *Mad Rose*, Caspian began to sing a shanty that each and every pirate present would know-\n\n*\"Well, me father often told me, when I was just a lad, a sailor's life is very hard, the food is always bad-\"* Around a dozen or so men joined in, their voices singing in unison with the water genasi's, *\"-but now I've joined the navy, I'm aboard a man-o-war, and now I've found a sailor ain't a sailor anymore!\"* Jumping down from the bar, Caspian stood beside Nym as more men joined in singing the shanty, their tankards held high as they did so. Before Nym even had a chance to argue or tell Caspian to get out from behind the bar, the pirate was pouring drinks for her fellow sailors and handing them out one by one as pirates crowded the bar.\n.\n\n\"Come on now, Nym! These pirates aren't gonna serve themselves! Well,- they will if they have to wait long enough!\" Caspian, along with many of her men let out heart laughs before continuing the shanty once more. *\"Don't haul on the rope, don't climb up the mast! If you see a sailing ship it might be your last! Just get your civvies ready for another run ashore! A sailor ain't a sailor ain't a sailor anymore!\" As the pirates turned and became distracted with alcohol and shouting shanties, Caspian leaned back toward Nym, her voice softening a bit. \"I'll stay after and cleanup, love. You won't have to worry about a thing.\"\n\n||The shanty they're singing, btw:"
},
{
"author": "Nym Kershaw",
"message": "The half-orc's eyes grew wide at the scene taking place before her. \"I-\" Making a gargled noise as Caspian jumped behind the bar, *Her* Bar, she took her washcloth and lightly slapped the gensai's arm with it. \"You're such trouble, Cas,\" She said with a smile. She never could stay mad at the pirate. \n\nGiving in, Nym helped Caspian pour drinks for the two crews. As the pirate softened and told Nym that she would help afterwards, she sighed with relief, blushing ear to ear."
}
] | 162.5 | 1,366 |
457 | 2022-08-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "The Tale Weaver",
"message": "Unlike most other taverns found around Lucidien, especially in the southern kingdoms, Crasmere was a quiet and calm town. At night time, the same was true. There were very little civilians walking along the streets of the town, and even as Ivan and Analvi entered the local tavern The Wayfinder's Rest, there were only a handful of patrons within. The light from the fireplace was bright enough to light the whole room, and make the interior feel warm and welcoming. The smell of stew cooking filled the air, and most within the tavern had a bowl themselves. There were only a handful, but a genasi bartender was cleaning tankards at the bar when his eyes rose to meet the two new patrons.\n\n\"Welcome to the Wayfinder's Rest, travelers.\" Taking note of each individual, the fire genasi's eyes seemed to darken slightly. The weapons and strong visage of both Ivan and Analvi were enough to make any store owner nervous. Clearing his throat, the man set down one of the many clean tankards and started on another before speaking plainly once more, \"I hope you mean no trouble here. Anything I can get for either of you?\" Leaning over the bar, the man eyed the two travelers with a wary eye, though he himself looked rather tired and disheveled. Dressed in leather and cloth, the bartender had dark hair and stood rather tall, though not nearly as much as Ivan. As a fire genasi, his hair was like an inferno atop his head, dancing like a performer in waves and flickers.\n\nPatrons around the tavern seemed to take notice of Ivan and Analvi as well, some quickly averting their eyes and others making sure their coin was secure on their side. The bartender seemed to avoid needing to look up to Ivan as they neared the bar, and instead focused on the she-elf that was closer to his height."
},
{
"author": "hayden.6",
"message": "𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐓, 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊. **巨大**\n ◤— ══════════════ ∘◦◦∘ ══════════════ —◢\n\nAs soon as the doors to the tavern had opened, the contrast from the inside to outside was night and day. Outside of Wayfinder's Rest, you'd find yourself quite isolated in the dark roads, crickets being your only company. Whereas inside, even though it wasn't too alive, it was more warm, bustling, and the fireplace made it so much cozier. Ivan appreciated the place, gazing around for a moment to see everyone look up in fear to his stature; a stare he was quite used to as a goliath wanderer. Hearing the voice of the tavern owner, Ivan's eyes would gaze back to the bar, walking towards it as his large footsteps creaked the floorboards of the small place.\n\nDespite him trying not to talk to Ivan, he ignored this fact and spoke anyway; however if Analvi wanted to add anything she could.\n\n\"We're mercenaries, here for someone about a missing brother.\"\n\nAs always, his voice had bass but was delivered politely. He wasn't trying to make enemies here, even if his goliath features allowed others to prejudice against that. Ivan found it funny, to be honest. Even when the Tavern Owner was trying to talk to Analvi instead of him, it was truthfully her that was more bloodlusted and vicious, making *Her* The one to be scared of. I guess they both had feats of their own that ignited fear, however. With Ivan being a literal behemoth, and Analvi's mysterious but sinister aura, even if it was hard to detect at first.\n\n ◤— ══════════════ ∘◦◦∘ ══════════════ —◢"
},
{
"author": "sevunteen",
"message": "闇 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐢 𝐕𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐚 \n═══════════ ❈ ❈ ═══════════\n\nAs described in Ivan's post, the contrast from the eerie, quiet night into the warm, cozy tavern was quite apparent, though not significant enough for the woman to really take note of. Taverns were taverns, after-all.\nShe took a brief look around the building, checking any areas whereby she could escape easily if things went south alongside analyzing every single person present to see if they carried any weaponry - not that they'd really know, considering her eyes were hidden behind black cloth. She continued on with Ivan towards the bar counter, now facing the bartender as they finalized their approach; in comparison to her best friend's extremely large and loud footsteps, Analvi's would be notably silent, as though she wasn't even walking where she was.\n\n*\"I could also do with a shot of your strongest drink, friend.\"*\n\nThe woman would tack on in a relatively neutral tone after Ivan had done his brief introduction, a small smirk on her face as she pulled her coin purse up from beneath her coat. Despite everyone's weariness of Ivan and the actuality being that Analvi possessed a far more bloodlusted attitude towards life in comparison to him, the dark elf wasn't gonna slaughter the entire tavern for no reason; alongside that was the fact that the tavern owner was clearly just... A regular dude running his thing, so that's even more reason to not do anything.\nBut moving on, she'd await the tavern owner's response once both her and Ivan had spoken."
},
{
"author": "The Tale Weaver",
"message": "Immediately as Ivan spoke up about the missing person's notice, the fire genasi's bright orange eyes lit up with concern. \"You're here about Niellan?\" The bartendar barely heard Analvi's order before he quickly dashed to a door behind the bar, shouting out for another name the pair of mercenaries would recognize from the notice; Ardal, the missing man's brother and local hunter of Crasmere. \"Ardal! Ardal, someone's here about Niellan!\" The fire genasi quickly jogged back over to Ivan and Analvi, pouring each of them a glass of ale on the house. Additionally, he offered a shot to the she-elf, making it obvious he had heard her intial request. \"Firebrand, my own recipe. Trust me when I say you might want a chaser with it.\" Nodding to Analvi, the shot glass contained what looked like fire, similar to the hair atop the bartender's head. \"Ardal will be out soon. The drinks are on the house.\"\n\nOffering a stern nod to both Ivan and Analvi, the bartender went back to cleaning tankards before a second man burst through the doorway the genasi had shouted through. Glancing around, he took immediate notice of the two mercenaries, and walked around the bar to greet them face to face. \"You two? You're here about Niellan? Have you found him?\" The man who was obvious Ardal looked disheveled, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. Ardal was a tall and muscular looking tiefling man, skin as red as blood along with curled horns atop his head and a tail sprouting from behind his form. Breathing rather heavily, he almost looked as though he were about to pass out from stress. \n\n\"If... If you haven't begun searching and have come for information I can offer you all I know.\""
},
{
"author": "hayden.6",
"message": "𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐓, 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊. **巨大**\n ◤— ══════════════ ∘◦◦∘ ══════════════ —◢\n\nAs soon as Ivan had stated the words 'missing brother', nothing really lit up the tavern more than the fire genasi's own eyes. In fact, it changed the mood of the place completely. From once a quiet but cozy tavern, turned into an uproar as the bartender practically yelled for Ardal. It was a name Ivan knew, less about his hunter status and more about the name of the poster. As a wanderer, Ivan wasn't going to remember each and every individual. And besides, this is his first time in Crasmere. Ivan would kinda snicker lightly due to Analvi getting cut off, however once the two had returned from out the back, his expression was back to normal.\nSo, this missing person's name was Niellan, huh?\n\nIvan watched closely as the bartender poured him a glass of ale, on the house it seems since he was quick to slide it his way. Catching the tankard, the goliath's hand was holding it with three fingers as he took a hearty sip, finishing the whole thing. It appeared this bar didn't have 'goliath' sized cups, because he practically had the same order as Analvi's — a shot. Depending on what happened these next few moments, Ivan would just kinda stand there whilst Analvi did whatever. It wasn't like he could sit down or anything - he'd decimate a stool and then the floorboards underneath it from the impact of the fall. However, when this 'Ardal' did finally come out, Ivan didn't perk up. Instead, his predator-like eyes would flick towards the individual, before slowly allowing his head to follow along.\n\n\"We have not found the individual.\"\n\n**\"Yet.\"**\n\nSwinging the tankard around on his index finger, the goliath would fling it towards the bartender to catch as he would step closer to the bar; although not out of threat, but moreso the fact that Ivan needed to hear every bit of information he had, so the duo could make this job quick and be on to Dasvaz.\n\n\"We'll need information, and then we'll be off to find him as soon as we do. Also...\"\n\nIvan would look over to Analvi before looking back to the tiefling.\n\n\"What's the pay lookin' like?\"\n\n ◤— ══════════════ ∘◦◦∘ ══════════════ —◢"
}
] | 407 | 2,285 |
330.333333 | 2022-08-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sevunteen",
"message": "[ Many apologies for my delay in replying, I've been away from home for the past week. ]\n\n闇 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐢 𝐕𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐚 \n═══════════ ❈ ❈ ═══════════\n\n*\"Dark sorcery and creatures of foul creation are kind of our specialty, friend. A witch is also nothing new.\"*\n\nAnalvi spoke casually as she watched the tiefling down a glass of ale with ease, an impressed smirk crossing her features for a moment before dissipating. She gazed at Ardal as he went on to speak, her expression turning more serious as she listened to the man.\nThe woman would nod once he had offered to show them where the boy had last been seen, leaning forward slightly before reaching with her right hand in order to plant it firmly, yet gently, upon Ardal's left shoulder.\n\n*\"Don't speak so drearily, Ardal. Your brother may have done something idiotic, but he's shown courage with such an action.\"*\n\nShe'd say sternly before returning her hand to her side, righting her posture. \n\n*\"And as for showing us where he was last seen... We'd appreciate it if you could.\"*"
},
{
"author": "The Tale Weaver",
"message": "\"Wouldn't- wouldn't you rather wait till first light? Blackwater Swamp is dangerous during all hours of the day, but the night is when the worst rears its head.\" Ardal shook his head vigorously as the thought of going near the swamp so late at night. \"Or... So I've heard.\" He added, a look of uncertainty covering his face. Looking past the she-elf and goliath, Ardal called over to the bartender who was obviously listening in even though he was helping another patron at the moment. \"Say, Velor, you have an open room or two right?\" The fire genasi looked over to his companion and shrugged, replying \"Yeah, we have a single bedroom available. Its so late, I'd be willing to look the other way just for tonight if you're really both here to help Ardal.\"\n\nThe tiefling looked back to Analvi and Ivan, the look in his eyes slowly becoming a bit more hopeful than before. \"I'll take you first thing in the morning though- if you're genuinely wanting to leave tonight, I suppose I can't stop you, only warn you.\""
},
{
"author": "hayden.6",
"message": "𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐓, 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊. **巨大**\n ◤— ══════════════ ∘◦◦∘ ══════════════ —◢\n\nIvan had seen no point in even talking at this point, stuck between being grumpy or just being mature about it and letting them talk. The words Analvi spoke were nothing but fact. The amount of dark shit they've been through was immeasurable. From fighting literal dead reincarnations of knights to battling off sea monsters while trying to travel the waters, the duo had their fair share of fucked shit. Ivan was just aching to get going already, however it seemed the tiefling was instead wanting to leave at dawn. A bummer, but it couldn't be helped. Although, while Analvi definitely had a room secured, the same could not be said for the goliath who was actually still trying to mind his head around certain obstacles.\n\nYou really thought this man would fit in a human bed? Let alone a human room? Let alone a *Shared* Human single room? \n\n\"Gah, if you're wanting to stay, you can have the room, Analvi. I'll have to find somewhere else.\"\n\nSighing, Ivan would adjust the cloak over his head and begin walking towards the door. Maybe a stable would do for tonight, where he could make some form of haybed? Hopefully the owners won't mind. If so, he'll have to settle in the mud.\n\n ◤— ══════════════ ∘◦◦∘ ══════════════ —◢"
}
] | 330 | 991 |
346 | 2023-03-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "**Henryk would step towards the carriage, opening the side door. It was a simple thing. No roof so the passengers would have the sun and wind tickle against their skin. It could fit about 4 passengers— maybe 6 if the two others were people of _smaller_ stature. The Doctor stepped on, leaving the door open for the Dryad.** \"Traveling by horse is the fastest way to the captial.\" **He'd state.** \"The alternative is by foot, but, I don't want to spend the night in the forest. Too risky. By horse I am at least guaranteed we'll get to the city before nightfall— even if we have a few hiccups along the road.\" **Henryk explained his reasoning as he sat down in one of the passenger seats. The Doctor didn't quite understand why the Dryad asked, as to him, domesticated animals were working animals. They provided a service, were cared for, and eventually retired. Yet, despite this, Henryk didn't actually think too deeply on this. He wasn't as attuned to nature as Midelia was. He'd direct a hand for the Dryad to sit across from him, so they could hold a conversation. Normally the Doctor was an anti-social individual, but, he wanted to show his guest he had some sort of interest in them. It'd be rude to just be silent the entire trip.** \n\n**The driver would visibly grab onto the reigns, readying themselves. Finally it was time to get moving. They'd wait for the dryad to get on too. It was one horse that was driving this thing— a stallion. Large, easily a couple thousand pounds of raw muscle. It'd huff loudly, ready to get to work.**"
},
{
"author": "Midelia Protunshast",
"message": "```The large dryad would struggle a bit to get inside as her two meter tall frame, while small for dryad standards. It would be quite large for human standards, a slight rustling as she tries to adjust herself to the carriage. Her long autumn leaves would lay to her side as the comforting smell of simply nature, of leaves and grass would be noticeable even with the open top. As she finally adjusted herself she would speak a form of gratitude for holding the door.```\n\n**Th-thanks for holding the door Henryk.**\n\n```With the sunlight shining on her and no trees to withold much of the light, Henryk would get his first good look on the fae-spirit. Her bright red leaves almost like hair going down to her knees, her light brown bark would catch the sun's light quite well. While her jade eyes would be a bright green colour, the autumn-spirit would be an interesting creature even a mesmerizing one.```\n\n**W-well forest wouldn't really be danger-dangerous with me around for we-well obvious reasons, but if you insist on ho-horse carriage so be it.```\n\n**A response to his previous comment the fae would look suprisingly calmer the countless gazes finally gone, she would have gotten a bit more comfortable. She would sit rather straight awaiting anything from Henryk, she wasn't exactly a conversation starter.```"
},
{
"author": "caleb.gui",
"message": "\"It's really more just a matter of haste rather than danger, to be honest. The longer I'm away from my clinic, the longer patience have to wait to be seen.\" **Henryk had specified for the Dryad.** \"People pay a decent sum of coin just to see me. I'm a private doctor, so, when an individual doesn't have time to wait for a doctor to see them at a public infirmary, they'll come to me. I will always attempt my best efforts to medicate them as soon as they're in my care.\" **The Doctor would look off to the side now. As soon as the door shut, the driver was off. The carriage jostled a bit as it began moving. The driver directed the carriage for the exit of Crasmere, and into the forest once more.**\n\n**Henryk threw a leg over the other, crossing them. The gentleman would pull out his pipe and his bag of tobacco, beginning to stuff it into the bowl of his pipe.** \"Typically it's individuals of high class, or even _nobility_ who'll come to see me. The lower class and peasants don't usually come to see me. I _would_ medicate them, but, I don't have the resources nor funds to treat the populace en mass.\" **He continued, taking a match to light his pipe. He brought it to his lips, sucking in the smoke as the tobacco smouldered within the pipe's bowl, before exhaling.** \"I've tried in the past to get funding from the city but to no avail.\" **A sigh left his lips.** \n\n**The cart was soon through Crasmere and into the forests once more. Scenery shifted, as soon the pair would find themselves beneath the various tree leaves which segmented the rays of sun striking upon them. . .**\n\n >>"
}
] | 367 | 1,038 |
355 | 2024-03-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "lona Eir Olafdottr",
"message": "*The Draycott market was busy for late afternoon, something Iona noted was as regular around here since most of the towns folks were usually working in the mines but it seemed today was different. Iona usually came in late afternoons with her kill for selling or from finished an odd job to get a few extra coins. The winters always made money more tight since they had to use most to pay for a room and board somewhere in a town. Sure they usually went with the cheapest place but it still ate away at any extra cash they gotten through the spring and summer months while camping out in the forest somewhere. \n\nIona would use the bit more of a busy day to her advantage though. Whenever she could she liked using days like this to earn some extra coins maybe by playing. Sure singing helped but she hadn't felt like singing lately, why was even a bit of uncertaint to her.\n\nGetting close to the middle of the market without being in anyone's way, Iona would set down her case for extra coins before pulling out a violin. Iona would get the violin positioned as some would already start to look at her, though a Goliath with an instrument usually drew eyes to her before she'd even start to play. Her instrument matched the her heritage it would seem to most. A violin made of bone and wood, hollowed out and the base wrapped with leather cords. Though it seemed normal enough it also held more of its own secret just like its master did.\n\nIona took a bit to think if what to play before she'd let her hands move freely to a tune that felt warm and joyous to anyone just listening while passing, though if a person was to stop and start listening there became hits of a story. The hollow notes at times breathing in life of a story that seemed happy on the outside but inside the stories main character struggled with grief and sorrow when alone it felt.*"
},
{
"author": "tabby_cat_111",
"message": "\"Draycott\" Was the name of the town Eurydice had wandered into this time, a place of squalor and disease if the coughing and muttering was any indication of wealth. The streets weren't very busy and the citizens hadn't been particularly friendly toward her since her arrival several hours ago, but it was admittedly a relief to be in civilization. This wasn't her home—it would never be her home—but it was somebody's home. The lack of warmth didn't indicate a complete deficit of embers.\n\nHaving finished resting her legs from her long travels, the tall aasimar woman took to the streets. She followed the smell of fresh bread and the distant melody of song, her movements slow as to ensure her own safety. When she arrived in the open area where the music emanated from, she got as close to the performer as she could without seeming off-putting, and sat cross-legged on the ground to soak up the beautiful string music they played. \n\nEurydice didn't look too different from the lower class folk here. Apart from her general size and facial features, one could mistake her actions for that of a child's: aimless, confused, and shy. The way she sat in the middle of the dusty street, not afraid of dirtying her already-tattered attire, she was hardly distinguishable. Her faded pink hair was messy, mostly concealing the silver bobbles within, and the beauty of her face was hidden under a layer of dirt and grime she'd spent the last couple weeks picking up on the road. Unnervingly though, this tall stranger had milky orange eyes devoid of pupils or irises. Looking into them was like looking into the hot coals of a dead fire without knowing if they were looking back at you."
},
{
"author": "lona Eir Olafdottr",
"message": "*Iona would keep on playing her song as some would gather around to listen while others seemed to just pass on by. She would notice everyone that was around, a constant look for danger even as it seemed to others looking on that she played with not a care at all with the surroundings she was in. \n\nThe ones who stayed only did but for a bit besides one, someone that didn't seemed to fit in completely and was a bit child like in being so interested in the music. Though Iona played for everyone to enjoy it so it wasn't new to have some that stuck around more for wanting to listen to the full performance. This was sometimes a good pay after or someone simply needed the music for the day to help them through.\n\nThough Iona would stop abruptly which was not normal for her as a horse headed towards the stranger in the middle of the road, the rider seemed to have not a care for stopping or trying to avoid the girl sitting in the middle of the street. Iona would have stopped since she ran over and pulled the stranger out of the way from the rider. The horse would spook and cause a bit of a startle from the actions of the Goliath. The rider would yell at her for startling their horse but Iona wouldn't care are she yelled back at the man for not being careful before cursing them in her native language as they rode off. Iona would be infuriated by the rider but would let it go once she looked down to make sure the stranger she'd pulled away was okay.*"
}
] | 366 | 1,065 |
365 | 2023-06-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Lawrence Silvermoore",
"message": "It was a time of dusk, the sun setting from far the horizon. The town of Draycott slowly having a much livelier tone as lights both natural and magical began to pop up across the town's area. It was a bustling community, much more so with the merriment of nearby taverns each and every night for either a brawl or a feast.\n\nIn one of the establishments, an inn, a person would stand out like a sore thumb. Greatly foreign and different from the rest of the people that stood out, but they paid no mind to the stranger as they were having fun and celebration for another day at living. However, the newcomer was silent and lack any emotion. Seemingly lifeless and dull of feeling.\n\nThe stranger would carry a backpack much larger than his own size, enough for it to be mistaken for a goliath's. Yet it seemed very light as evident of being carried around like it was nothing. He sat down on one only remaining booths that is vacant. There was another seat beside him, and only one remaining left in this packed establishment. \n\nThe bar maid would approach him and asked for his order, to which he replied in a dark and grim tone with a demonic voice. \"**Sauteed Mushroom Chickens and Marinated Boar Liver and Meat.**\" His words alone was enough to send a chill to the maid's spine, and with an awkward smile, immediately wrote the order and moved away immediately.\n\n\"**Hmph...**\" The man would grunt at the reaction, but he merely remained calm and collected. Placing both hands upon the table, he started to wait for his food to come. Seemingly prepared and ready to eat at any given time."
},
{
"author": "Arel Presthyra",
"message": "Against his personal wishes and much to his frustration, Arel had reached some form of civilisation after what felt like days of being lost roaming in the hostile Findaran wilderness. Whilst this had relieved him, as he was no longer under the relentless pursuit of a vicious wolf pack, it was evident from the instant he had arrived that it was not his intended destination but not far from it. However, the sun quickly dipped over the horizon as the temperature gradually descended. As much as he disliked the idea, he was aware that he would likely have to find a place to rest his weary body and mind until morning and continue his journey to the capital. And perhaps have a substantial meal, or at least substantial by his standards. Atop his conjured spectral steed, with a mildly exasperated sigh, the young man made his reluctant approach to the lake town of Draycott.\n\nWith minimal searching, given the town's relatively small size compared to most in Findara, Arel had discovered the humble inn known as the \"Jolly Elf.\" Not feeling incredibly picky, as he planned to remain in Draycott for a single night, he dismounted as his loyal equine companion was reduced to a small cloud of cerulean sparkles that quickly dispersed across the skyline. Before he could open what was assumed to be the primary entrance, a pair of towering men burst forth, rolling onto the ground as they hammered one another with blows. Lest he risk being caught in the whirlwind of fists and elbows, he was forced to sidestep the two brawlers swiftly trailed by a final male who diverted his concentration to Arel.\n\n\"Sorry 'bout them, lass! They always do this after hittin' the mug!\" The man bellowed with a haughty laugh, returning his attention to the two as the \"Lass\" Slid past him and entered the inn. \n\nA packed house. Just what he needed."
},
{
"author": "Lawrence Silvermoore",
"message": "One of the maids, full of large mugs filled with ale and mead, would approach Arel as he enters the inn. \"**Sorry dear, but the inn is quite full. Ya might have to wait if you're going to stay on the first floor. But the rooms are vacant if you're spending the night! Hope you can endure the noise though, these fellers sure are plenty energetic! Ha ha ha!**\" A hardy laughter would come out from her lips, she looked around for the moment to make sure that everything is full. On the corners of the inn, she spots a single vacant chair beside a grim individual.\n\n\"**Oh excuse me, we have one vacant seat over there beside that peculiar black fellow. You can ask him for a seat! Might get a free meal with your beauty, missy.**\" One of the occupants would shout at the bar maid, seemingly impatient for their mugs of alcohol. \"**SHUT YOUR TRAPS! I'M COMING!**\" With a mighty shout back, she would direct her attention once more to Arel.\n\n\"**Sorry dear, job is a waiting. I'll be back to your seat if you're gonna order. And welcome to the Jolly Elf Inn!**\" With that, she walks away. The robed individual seemingly staring at Arel, it was as if he was listening to the conversation despite the rambocious and chaotic wild festivities that's going on. One may feel a shiver down their spine with that hallow stare of his.\n\nHowever, the robed individual seemingly pulled a chair out for Arel. Tapping on it a few times, signalling for him to come sit beside him."
}
] | 351 | 1,095 |
256.666667 | 2023-06-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Arel Presthyra",
"message": "\"Thank you, Miss.\" He said with a swift nod as the young maid made her exit to accommodate the needs of the inn's rambunctious clientele. With that conversation concluded, he directed his attention toward this \"Peculiar black fellow\" She had mentioned, noticing that he had pulled a chair out and seemed to be staring straight through him. Was getting a meal genuinely worth taking a seat at the same table with this clearly shady figure? Subtly, he reached downwards and pressed the palm of his hand against the bag slung across his midsection to determine what rations he had left from his travels. That turned out to be very little, so he begrudgingly strode to the secluded corner where this seemingly lifeless being resided. \n\nSeeing that the seat was beside him, Arel, without greeting this foreigner, gently grasped the chair with a spindly hand and moved it across the table from him before sitting down. There was no chance of him willingly getting so close to this stranger. His posture typically was that of a hunchback, as he was typically bent over reading, but in the presence of Lawrence, he leaned backwards and slightly straightened his aching back to maintain his distance and a consistent line of sight with him."
},
{
"author": "Lawrence Silvermoore",
"message": "\"**Hmph.**\" The man would make a loud huff of breath, as if he was judging the man beside him. His voice came out a raspy, vile, and even more demonic than usual. Face forward while waiting patiently for his meal to come. It seems as though the hooded figure suddenly have a bad mood, or at least taking notice Arel's consistent line of sight. \n\nAlthough it is not easily seen, Lawrence was looking at him in the corner of his lens. Yet his eyes cannot easily be seen through his porcelain face. \"**If you would judge me solely by appearance, then seat in the floor. I do not like eating my food with a constant pair of eyes watching me like those of a hawk's gaze.**\" The man would tap a few times on the table, continuing to wait for his food. Yet, it seems as though it'll take a while for it to arrive.\n\n\"**... Stranger, why are you here in this kind of small town?**\" His head would turn towards Arel with a hallowed gaze. Talking is the only thing that can pass the time, and such manner, Lawrence decides to sate his curiosity for a bit. \"**I know almost everyone here in this town. Practically traveled here in between all my life. But, unlike the rest, you are different. Far different from the rest of these folks.**\"\n\n\"**Any goals to be here? In a land of magic?**\""
},
{
"author": "Arel Presthyra",
"message": "Underneath his own hood, it appeared that Arel, despite Lawrence's vile, almost bestial tone of voice, remained unphased as eye contact was maintained. It was evident that he was in a similarly sour mood to himself, which brought into question why this one had urged him over in the first place. What did he have to gain from interacting with him beyond some temporary entertainment? This, he was not capable of piecing together, as he was never astute when it came to reading social cues or understanding the intent behind specific behaviours. \n\n**\"I've no interest in getting comfortable with a stranger right now. Your appearance has no bearing on that.\"** His near-monotone made his intent with these words ambiguous whilst placing both of his delicate hands atop the table in front of him. His silvery gaze wavered for merely a moment as the fair maiden who had welcomed him in was seen approaching the pair, steaming food in hand. \n\n**\"I'd rather keep that to myself.\"**"
}
] | 259 | 770 |
285.666667 | 2023-06-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Lawrence Silvermoore",
"message": "Unfortunately, it was not for Arel. Instead, it was for the robed individual. Placing down a surprisingly large order of food on the table, with a sudden twist and turn from both his hands, a cutlery of spoon and knife would seemingly appear out of nowhere as if it was the work of a conjurer. But he didn't used any magic, simply a trick of his sleeve. Literally.\n\nHe began to dine in with fast and precise continuous movement, devouring the hot meal with smooth and fluid motion. Though, to how he eats, it was rather strange. Instead of eating with his mask off, Lawrence was simply shoving it down through his throat in the perspective of another individual. Since everyone is too busy to care about him, no one could really question his way of eating.\n\nTaking a small glance toward Arel who seem to be waiting to order, Lawrence merely remained silent for the most part. \n\n-\nThe bar maid from early steadily fast approached with nothing in her hands, free from any orders of any other individual. \"**So, what will your order be? We have a variety of foods and delicacies of Gantrickan and Finadaran cuisine here. We probably have what you may want.**\" \n\nLawrence watched the two interact with each other with silence while eating, with the maid seeing how he eats made her weirded out by him. But she wouldn't point it out. Only waiting for Arel to reply to her."
},
{
"author": "Arel Presthyra",
"message": "**\"I suppose that mushroom and lentil soup would suffice, assuming you have it.\"** \n\n**\"Indeed we do, miss. I'll have that out for you soon.\"** The barmaid seemed to shuffle away from the pair, or primarily Lawrence, as quickly as she could without drawing unwanted attention to herself. As he turned his gaze back to the young man before him, he noticed that he was not eating his food in a remotely traditional manner. It appeared to be pushed through his throat, which, needless to say, was more than slightly baffling to him. But this oddity was not going to become the topic of conversation if he could help it. Not after the pair had already gotten off on the wrong foot. \n\n**\"You store cutlery in your sleeves?\"** Arel said, raising an eyebrow as he determined that this trick did not result from magic. What precisely he used to seemingly sprout this silverware from thin air, he was not sure, but he thought magic could safely be ruled out of the equation."
},
{
"author": "Lawrence Silvermoore",
"message": "Lawrence would set aside his spoon and knife to his plate and simply moved his body towards Arel's direction. Without speaking or uttering any other words, he would move his hand around below his wrists before snapping it back up with a snap, revealing individual items in his palm. Each item seemingly more lucrative, odd, and even crazy.\n\nFrom simple materials such as ingredients, to potions that came from various sizes. The man was having fun despite the lack of any emotion, expression, or sound as he continously pull things from underneath his sleeve with a hidden string. Until something large began to come out that it was able to embedded itself on his sleeve.\n\nIn his hand, he had accidentally pulled out a crow. But it wasn't an ordinary crow, it was a half-fleshed aviary creature who seem to be standing upright just fine. It didn't seem to bleed and it moved like any ordinary bird. It held no stench but the undead creature is intelligent enough to not open their mouth unless it gets discovered by the tavern inhabitants.\n\nRealizing what he just pulled, the robed individual immediately reversed his technique by moving in a circular counterclockwise and shoved the hell out of his crow inside his sleeves. He then looked at Arel with a seemingly nervous stare, though it still wasn't even closely evident. But the man placed his finger upon his mask, making a quiet gesture with a shaking head.\n\n\"**Forget what you saw, I don't want to mercilessly slaughter any innocent individuals.**\" He said with a crude but seemingly frightened demonic voice. Though it was evident in his tone that he was confident that he can easily do what he said."
}
] | 303 | 857 |
322 | 2023-06-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Arel Presthyra",
"message": "As his frail wrist was swiftly caught in the necromancer's firm grasp, much to Arel's surprise, he could have sworn he was able to hear faint whispering from seemingly nowhere. It was almost as if a dark presence had begun to fill the room they were in and consume him, along with the patrons. Needless to say, this sense of impending dread made the Shifter quite uneasy as he stopped dead in his tracks with surprise, making a feeble attempt at wrenching his wrist away before promptly giving up. He quickly glanced from side to side, but it appeared that none of the patrons had taken notice of them. But upon returning his gaze to Lawrence, he was greeted with a pair of shimmering emeralds protruding from the abyss hidden under his hood. These eyes radiated with a ravenous hunger that was starkly contrasted with his tone of voice, which was that of a man who was in desperate need. \n\nIt was not long before he also took notice of the gentle glow of the amulet around his neck. How he had only noticed it now was beyond him, but he could not deduce its nature. Why did this one want to stay with him this badly? Was his craving for social interaction that strong? Or did he have ulterior motives and use this as a way to lower his guard? \n\nHis seemingly genuine apology lessened the likelihood of the latter in his mind as a sigh left his lips. \n\n**\"It's okay...\"** Frankly, he did not know what else to say in this instance. A rarity for him. At the very least, he could make an attempt at easing the tension that strangled the two of them."
},
{
"author": "kyutefluffboi",
"message": "```Oh my gods! OH MY GODS! IS THIS ONE OF THOSE BOYS' LOVE STORIES?! IIHHHHHH!!!!```\n\nArel may hear a faint voice of an overly energetic and cheerful young woman from seemingly out of nowhere. Where those dark voices were had been replaced with that feminine excitement and awe, the Necromancer's Amulet would shine in certain intervals each time the voice of that particular woman comes forth.\n\n```I LIKE IT! I LIKE IT! I LIKE IT! Hey, Our Little Prince~ Are you gonna fall in love? ARE YOU?! ARE YOU GONNA BE IN ONE OF THOSE BIZZARE 'MEN-CAN-GET-PREGNANT' WORLDS?! Romance is beautiful! Like that time when that young boy your age rescued you from that time in the forest during your boy time years?! Wow so many time, TIME! TIME! TIME! ```\n\n\"***Please, don't be too loud... You're giving me a headache...***\" The necromancer would place a hand on his head while there were feminine giggles and laughter that ring round and about, though it seems that the patrons of the inn doesn't seem to hear anything... Except the two of them. \n\n```Oh sorryyyyy!!! I hope your head isn't splitting apart like that time in the tower! Oh wait sorry for mentioning that! Oh sorry that I forgot about that! Sorry! SORRY!```\n\nLawrence would slowly stand up on his seat and left a couple of silver coins on the table, grabbing his porcelain mask and setting it to the side of his robes. \"***Can we please go outside? I know I just said don't leave me... But... Let us have a change of space.***\""
},
{
"author": "Arel Presthyra",
"message": "When Arel heard the faint shouting, he was forced to take a step back but continued to listen closely. He knew this voice did not come from any of the patrons that surrounded him, rather, it was coming from... Lawrence? He quickly came up with two possibilities: either the crow he affectionately refers to as \"Squiggle\" Was the source of this, or there was even more magic at play than he ever expected. While aware of the possibility that he could be wrong, this was the best that he could muster up at the moment.\n\n**\"Who is...\"** He muttered to himself before holding his tongue as he saw that Lawrence was in visible pain. Perhaps this was all within his head? He had little to no familiarity with this manner of sorcery and ultimately drew a blank. What time in a tower? What about being rescued in a forest? He couldn't wrap his head around it. \n\n**\"I understand. Let's head outdoors...\"** Despite his lacking facial expressions, his bewilderment was evident to anyone who looked. With that, he reached into the bag slung across his body a pulled from it a pair of silver of his own, leaving them at the table before pointing towards the entrance, urging the Elf to take the lead."
}
] | 344 | 966 |
383.2 | 2023-07-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Arel Presthyra",
"message": "While Lawrence rushed for an exit, Arel maintained a considerable distance from him, slithering between the patrons without being noticed. His small stature rarely came in handy, but this was one instance in which it was useful to him. But as they reached the rear door, he noticed the amulet's soothing light growing in intensity, prompting him to stop dead in his tracks as the door shut behind him. Who was to come out? And who was this \"Auntie Cassandra\" Character? At least one of his questions was answered as the spectre, undead in appearance, quickly sprout forth from the necklace and hovered before them. \n\nAt this point, with the cat entirely out of the bag, he felt slightly more willing to question the chaos that was occurring before him. That, and his ravenous curiosity had gotten the better of him, so he simple could not resist. \n\n**\"I'm Arel.\"** He said, his eyes following the spectre as it began to float above his head, staring directly down upon him. He'd neglected to mention his last name or conjure an alias, knowing that, despite being highly unimportant, he was still a member of one of Gantrick's noble houses, and was not willing to risk having this necromancer recognise who he was. After leaving home and heading to foreign lands, he knew the political backlash that could and likely would occur, should be discovered. \n\n**\"I would not have made that large of an assumption, associating you with a deity. I must ask though...\"** \n\nHe met the ghost's gaze finally, pointing directly at her.\n\n**\"Is what this one says truthful? I am familiar with the Auburnia name, but...\"** Arel had to hold his tongue, deciding against asking too many questions at once, as he typically did. With regards to his own head, this was acceptable, but, while he wasn't the most socially astute, he was aware that this was \"Improper.\""
},
{
"author": "kyutefluffboi",
"message": "```EXCUSE ME! 'This One' is Vivienne of the Thorned Rose! MEMBER OF THE COVENANT OF DRUID RELATED WITCHES! Or just natural witches... Or nature witches. Also! How do you know House Auburnia? I am curious. VERY CURIOUS! Oh my gosh, could you be...```\n\nLawrence would briefly gazed his attention towards Arel in this situation. His eyes glowing ominously brighter than it usually does. One might say that it seemed a dangerous one. His hands seemingly flickering with small bursts of spectral blue flames. It seems that the Necromancer was about to attack, thinking that the gods have sent an assassin against him.\n\n```A SCHOLAR?! OH MY GODS AND YOU WORKED HARD TO UNCOVER OUR HISTORY FROM 100! OR 200 YEARS AGO?! OH I COULD HUG YOU!``` \n\nVivienne would immediately dive in to hug Arel. Though he may feel very uncomfortable, as her very touch was like none other. He may feel his soul was moved around his corporeal body, but other than that, it was staying in place. Seeing the display of affection, Lawrence slowly died down his rather ominous behavior with eyes all dimming down a bit. \n\nHe began to spoke softly, with a bit of guilt and shame to it. Though it wasn't much very evident, hidden underneath the subtle layers of a calm and cool exterior. \"**Yes, what she said is true. My childhood isn't the best thing in the world, I'm most definitely older than you if we compare the ages of the soul. But I suggest not delving further in my story. There is one thing that I can tell you. I once entered the Domain of Elutharious when I was 8. That's all I have to say about the matter.**\""
},
{
"author": "Arel Presthyra",
"message": "**\"Apologies for not doing your name justice.\"** He seemed to have gotten used to Vivienne's outbursts quite rapidly, though, it was evident to any who looked that he was still perturbed to an extent. After all, how could one not be during such a chaotic and atypical encounter such as this? As he was interrogated by the ghostly figure, Arel watched on as she came to her own conclusions, putting together what he was rather quickly, but he never described himself as a scholar. From the corner of his vision, however, he took notice of the shift of brightness in Lawrence's eyes, followed by a series of blue lights flickering along his clothing. \n\nHe'd planned on stepping back, perhaps needing to prepare himself for a fight, but before he could do so, he was gripped by a pair of arms. That being the Witch's. But somehow, it felt peculiar, as though it weren't his physical body that was being grabbed, but something far more... Visceral than that. And as he attempted to raise his arms both in protest of being embraced and in defence against a perceived attack, he found he was unable to. Vivienne had such a tight grasp on him that it felt like he could not breathe, his asthma not helping the situation remotely. Tensions were high, but when he heard the shame in the necromancer's voice, they had lessened somewhat. At the very least, he did not seem like he would attack immediately.\n\n**I... C-can't...\"** The completed sentence could not leave him as he made an attempt to grip her gown whilst breaking into a coughing fit."
},
{
"author": "kyutefluffboi",
"message": "```You're dying?! OH MY GOSH YOU'RE DYING! WE COULD BE BUDDIES TOGETHER! YAY!```\n\nBefore anything else happens, she suddenly faded into obscurity. Leaving behind only smokes that seemingly entered in the faint glowing amulet on Lawrence's neck. He would make a hefty groan, the necromancer would make way to Arel's side. Seeing that the man is having a terrible coughing fit. \"**Are you all right? Did she ripped a fabric of your soul?**\" His voice was full of worry, to which he started to move his hands around his body.\n\nSquiggle, the undead crow, would come out from the hood of necromancer. In its beak was a small glass container of green clear liquid in it. Though the sudden exit of the creature accidentally revealed Lawrence's face. The visage of a young man heavily scarred with seared and exposed flesh, contracting and retracting with no skin to cover up the living tissue. Teeth seemingly sharp and abnormal, even for a mortal's standard.\n\nThere were multiple slits closed, but soon they opened to reveal them to be more demonic eyes. Squirming and moving around Lawrence's head with fleshy noises. Finally was the infamous large gaping mouth on his neck with its own layer of small sharp teeth, yet incomplete and spacing far and wide from each other. Since there were eyes on both sides of the neck, it made it seem there were two faces.\n\n\"**SQUIGGLE!**\" Forcibly grabbing the crow, he would take the stamina potion from his undead companion's beak and immediately gave it to Arel before covering himself with his hood once more. \"**Time. Out.**\" With an angered tone, the crow suddenly became lifeless as it fell to its knees. Seemingly incapacitated where the necromancer hid it in one of his pockets.\n\nHe moved a few meters back from the beastshifter, both afraid and cautious now that his face were revealed. Upon the shadow of an oak tree, only his demonic verdant eyes were visible amidst an abundance of darkness."
},
{
"author": "Arel Presthyra",
"message": "The ghost was incorrect in her assumption. Arel was not dying, at least not yet, but it most certainly felt like he was. Vivienne seemed to almost take joy as her grip tightened further before fading away, in turn releasing the Shifter as he quickly dropped to his knees, clutching his chest. While he had heard Lawrence's inquiry, he likely could not respond if he attempted to, as his coughing fit continued, broken up by a series of deep breaths. However, as Lawrence placed his hands on him, Arel glanced up with a pained expression painted across his face, he came face to face with exposed flesh, fang-like teeth, an utter lack of skin, and multiple sets of eyes. \n\nArel could only look on as the undead crow was quickly jerked into his master's cloak, leaving only the stamina potion left behind sitting directly in front of him. He reach for the bottle, seemingly to drink from it, but instead slid it away from himself. With the shape the bottle was in, he could not see the contents within and was not willing to accept what was offered. Not after this. He was not going to fight or fly unless he had to, as he could see that this individual was obviously more than troubled and at least displayed a degree of regret regarding their situation and seemed to wish to remedy it.\n\nWhilst far from orderly, Arel's breathing seemed to slow as his face returned to its usual vacant state and the coughing fits reduced in intensity. \n\n**\"I will... Pretend that I never saw that...\"** With hands that trembled far more than was normal, he returned to his feet and took a few paces backwards himself."
}
] | 381 | 1,916 |
560.4 | 2023-08-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat",
"message": "The food was cold, but then again so was everything in this kingdom. From the first day of the year to the very last, the icy winds of Gantrick howled against the closed shutters of every home, and this tavern that Ehkan sat in was no different. He stared at his plate with a bit of dismay, the lack of business was probably the reason for the subpar steak, but that did not bring him any more joy. He had been sulking since the Guild told him to take the mission, the masters had known he was not particularly fond of a place where his piss gets frozen mid-leak, but they played to his better nature, they told him of how the people of the town are suffering the attacks, of how the streets that were full of children are now littered with abandoned toys, and how taverns like this one are now scraping by and serving shitty steaks... But at least there was ale. It felt like he was in Khisfire if Khisfire had somehow pissed off Freldar and he made sure it was miserable all year round. He emptied his mug with a long swig, then gestured for the barkeep to fill it again by placing a coin on the table, and he placed another one in case his companion wished for a drink. \n\n Ehkan looked back at everyone else in the tavern. The hearth was on its last breath, puffing flames to keep the people here warm, but failing so, which was why they, Ehkan included, were dressed in furs and tough leather, they had stared at him when he entered earlier, and after he stared back with fangs and sword slightly bared they went back to chewing. Although there was trouble the people here were in they seemed wary of travelers, they probably didn't get that many this far north.\n\nFor good reason he supposed, not very smart to be traveling in unfamiliar territory, one of them might think you're worth a few coins and slap a collar on your next. Too bad for them though, he wasn't shy of letting his spear LongSong sing.\n\n \"Marroweaters,\" He muttered as he recalled the details of the job. He'd seen one, once in Khisfire, forcible shipped by a foolish thief boss that believed he could, in his own words, make it obey, too bad the beast decided he was a good breakfast before it ate his family for dessert. Now there was a pack of them coming out of the forest and picking off civilians, rather than get the royal army they called on the likes of him to deal with them. He was not at all eager, hard to fight something that can pop out of the shadows, but the job paid well, maybe enough for him to finally buy a griffin and visit Kara-Tur, get off work for a month. \"A pack of them means they have a den nearby, somewhere to store their food, and sleep. But that forest is not exactly my terrain. Damn it all.\""
},
{
"author": "dismeanie",
"message": "To a lesser degree, the frigid and unhospitable weather of ice and snow didn't affect Sarissa. She was by no means immune to the harrowing chill that settled in one's bones, or very soul. It was more the fact that for many of her years, she lived and thrived in the deep places of the sea. To be sure, there were vents of heated air and water across the oceans floor, but barring that... It was a biting chill. It wasn't the absolute tundra of her current surroundings that had the shiver threatening to claw up her spine. It was the sheer quiet and fear that radiated from behind closed shutters, the specks of blood that clung to the wood of nearby building's pillars or steps. *Lives stolen,* Sarissa thought to herself with a scrunched brow. \n\nShe had been none too gently directed northward by the Guild. *\"Go offer your aid. Let's see how ya fare in the cold.\"* She would fare well enough, thank you very much. Sarissa knew it was a jab at her own icy exterior; the thought made her eyes roll in their sockets with a tired derision. She felt eyes upon her as she trekked over the snow, up through the main thoroughfare, and her head turned slowly to the side to meet the gazes. Unsurprisingly, the unwary sensation came from behind slits or quickly closing doors. On Sarissa's few visits to Erbaron, mostly to buy furs, her presence had been met with the same mistrust or whispers behind palms. It was something she was used to - the siren was an outsider wherever she went, and Gantrick was no different as a whole.\n\nThe door to the tavern opened with a tug of one hand, her eyes quickly adjusting to the lower light within, vision surveying the scattered 'mass'. The creatures were truly doing a number on the residents. A softer look passed over the siren's features. No one deserved to die in such an acidic maw as Marroweaters. Sarissa headed toward the bar, poised to ask some questions, when she heard a man mumbling to himself just to her left. *\"—means they have a den nearby\"—* Which caught her attention. With a slightly lifted brow, and without an ounce of timidity, Sarissa took a seat beside Ehkan with a gentle nod of her head in greeting. \"This place is no one's terrain. Yet, here we are. And there they are,\" Her chin jutted toward the Erbaron barkeep and those that were left in the wake of their loved ones slaughter, or neighbors. Sarissa let a sigh slip free before her eyes settled on Ehkan in earnest, features seemingly placid."
},
{
"author": "Captain Domiel Marques | The Tempest",
"message": "The pair navigating the snow dusted paths of Erbaron earned the same looks as those who ventured before them. They met every scowl with a look as cold as the town itself. After their arduous journey they maintained little patience, but still a hint of impishness it seemed. Rivet trailed behind her sister, greeting a man trudging in the opposite direction with a flash of gold capped canines and a teasing growl. Domiel spoke her twin's name as a warning, her voice low and laced with vexation. \n\nAt last the tavern welcomed them, the run down establishment was not burdened with the prejudice of its builders. It provided a roof for any weary traveler, even the elven women presently passing the threshold. The door creaked on its worn hinges as they stepped inside, stamping the snow from their boots. Their matching gazes roved around the room, piecing together their initial impression which was... Dismal. \n\nThey began to close the distance between themselves and the bar, peeling off layers as they went. Hair shades of vibrant blue spilled forth as they tugged their hats free, skin made gold by the warm rays of sun they were accustomed to was revealed. Tattoos adorned them both, peeking from beneath fabric of muted colors. Rivet spared a moment to pout, as she had been stripped of her usual flashy attire and given clothes more appropriate for their destination. \n_ _\n\nPassing the sputtering fire Domiel fed it another log, waving her hand over the wisps of struggling flames. The fire leapt forth, licking at her chilled fingers as heat spread over the room. Rivet slumped into a rickety chair, setting her feet atop its neighbor as a sigh of content parted her lips. Her sister joined her, raking her fingers along her scalp and through tangled tresses. Gathering waves of azure hair she wove them into a tight braid, while her twin's teal mane was left wild. Coins were tossed onto the smooth surface of the table as the two fell into conversation, eagerly awaiting food and drink. \n\n\"Marroweaters are mean beasts, Riv, remember what I told you once we're out there.\" Domiel always seemed to speak to her sister in warnings.\n\n\"Ah we've faced worse,\" Rivet argued, only half paying attention as she winked at someone watching them. Her sister didn't bother chiding her, but instead lifted the newly arrived and much needed mug of ale to her lips."
},
{
"author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat",
"message": "\"Yes,\" Ehkan grumbled at the end of the lady's sentence. \"Here we all are. Cold.\" He sighed and turned to her taking in her features as well, she seemed more alive than the set of moping and grovelling people in the bar so he figured she was from out of town, he also figured from the weapons she brandished and her well sown armour that she must be the other Journeyman that the guild said would be accompanying him for this hunt, he had hoped a third or fourth would join, but not many were eager to be up here, it wasn't exactly a welcoming place. She seemed more comfortable than he was in this weather, and he was slightly jealous of that, but he was also happy he had company, everyone else had just stared, and even the ladies had bristled whenever he put on a little grin, which wasn't a first for him, but it still hurt all the same.\n\n \"I am Ehkan Noran Kippat,\" He told her with a slight raise of his mug as a form of salutation. \"Son of the Sun, even though it seems foolish to boast of given our current dilemma. I am the other unfortunate soul the Guild made come here for this job. I am unsure how we are to do this, but if the gods be merciful we'll both walk out of this rich and-\"\n\nEhkan stopped talking as his ears picked up the sound of the door's creaking hinges as it opened up. The tavern had not had that many walk into it in the past two days he had been staying here. He watched the two elven women as they walked to the bar, there was a similarity to their features so he guessed they were related, but they also seemed vastly different as well. They did not seem to be of his Guild, not that the Guild had a particular standard to who they allowed into the ranks, but he had been told there would only be one other person following him on this hunt, these two seemed able in a fight. Slavers? No, they didn't seem the type, the ones he saw on his way were gluttonous-looking wretches. If they were not that then who?\n\n Once he heard the lady with hair the same shade as the ocean mention the Marroweaters he realized that they were here for the same business he and his fellow Journeyman was, which was a surprise to him because he did not think that there was anyone else crazy enough to follow up on such a bounty. He winced when the lady with green wild hair winked at him, he had been staring too long and ended up being noticed, but he gained his composure and quickly grinned back at her. \"Have you now? Marroweaters are harsh creatures, I'm curious as to what else could be worse than them?\" He knew of course that the world spat out monsters far more wicked than Marroweaters, but he needed to strike conversation now that he had been caught."
},
{
"author": "dismeanie",
"message": "\"You may call me Sarissa,\" She responded in kind, her voice quiet in its timber but a certain lulling to it as well. Pale blue eyes, a slate colored sky, watched him idly as Ehkan spoke. *Talkative elf,* She thought with a little derision. Sarissa was already weary of elves as it was. Something about their grandiose behavior. Did the siren have room to talk? No. That did nothing to change the fact of the matter however. Quickly, nearly ethereal features dropped from a polite placid, to that of bored. \"Yes, that is the goal, Kippat.\" A dryness had certainly entered her speech, the desire to roll her eyes barely fought off. The none too quiet arrival of a set of teal-haired twins would also nab Sarissa's rapt attention.\n\nShe wouldn't recognize the pair off hand either, but their manner certainly gave them away as foreigners of the land, not just in race. A bluish tinged hand raised to brush a palm along the line of her curved jaw, watching the pair without the shame her companion would have. The siren gave a sort of snort at what Ehkan had to say, but he was right. What sort of worse creature did these two fight off? \"These beasts can meld into the shadows. Does the saliva not speak for itself?\" A brow lifted, scrutinizing gaze set forth on first Domiel, then Rivet. *Definitely related. The hair alone.* One far more wild, yes, but she guessed both women were the farthest from **Tame** One could get. Sarissa could respect that, even if the mannerisms greatly annoyed her. A furtive glance was directed to her Guild companion, both brows then bouncing up in a questioning arc. If he had any common or people sense at all, the look would surely read something close to **Should we pair up with them?**\n\nIn general, Sarissa wasn't a people person herself, but this job, and its bounty, would be a hearty one. The more the... Not merrier perhaps, but certainly easier. And much like Ehkan had thought of her, the siren guessed that the women nearby could hold their own. The only thing that would worry her, was at the end of the day, would they each have eachother's backs? And not just their own?"
}
] | 571 | 2,802 |
814.333333 | 2022-08-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Mursha Skybreaker | Herald of War",
"message": "It was midday, the sun above Dasvaz high in the sky and shining down upon the rocky terrain. While it wasn't blistering hot outside, the temperature was noticeable. An agreement had been struck between two notable individuals, one to meet at the grog house in Ezocar. Mursha Skybreaker was one such individual, and as she approached the grog house a small group of her war band were in tow- all orcs. Armed to the teeth and ready for a fight at a moment's notice, Mursha herself was armed with a massive hammer that seemed to glow a faint blood orange. Pulsing every few minutes, the hammer was obviously magical or enchanted in some way, but for now it sat neatly on the red orc's back, her long and ragged dreads hanging over and around it down her back. The closer Mursha and her band grew to the grog house, the more tense they all seemed to become. Not Mursha however. A stone cold and serious expression rest on her face, one filled with determination.\n\nStanding before the entrance to the grog house, Mursha pressed her hand against the door, pushing it open. Walking into the building, the orc took a long look around before settling on the various patrons who she knew in her bones were not a member of the other individual's party. Mursha furrowed her brow, most or all recognizing her immediately. Before any could make a move, Mursha opened her mouth and shouted out to all. \"Skybreakers! Clear out the unwanted. Let's not disappoint our Vanathi friends.\" Without much more encouragement, around a dozen Skybreaker orcs pressed past their leader and began throwing out patrons. Very, very few dared fight back, and those who did left the grog house with more than simple bruises or cuts. Taking a seat at the large round table at the center of the room, without asking grog was placed in Mursha's hands.\n\n_ _\nNow, she simply had to wait.\n\nA lot of thoughts were running through the Skybreaker's head; Rathiva was someone she had heard countless stories about, the Vanathi tribe one of legend just as her own. Now, a dragonborn sat upon the Dasvaz throne, and both tribe leaders wished for the same thing; *His head.* Mursha cared not for the desires of Rathiva at the end of the day. Even if they worked together to dethrone and slay Umras Kilfras, the throne would be *Mursha's* And subsequently Bulan's, the blood orc's daughter. The world would be Bulan's if Mursha had her say. *And she would have her say.* Leaning back in her chair, the Skybreaker watched the door with an impatient glare, the rest of her tribe members sitting, standing or drinking nearby. All were ready however. There was always a chance Rathiva planned to attack the Skybreaker tribe. After all, Mursha was the owner of a powerful weapon; Malleus, the hexblade hammer.\n\nThis was the special weapon sat upon Mursha's back, glowing a glorious blood orange and begging the orc for a fight. Its all Malleus wanted, day in and day out. Today would hopefully not be a day of bloodshed, as Mursha knew the combined forced of the Skybreaker and Vanathi tribes would be nearly unstoppable.\n\n***After all, what would a bunch of slaves do against the 'Herald of War' and the 'Wrath of Dasvaz'?***"
},
{
"author": "alexandra8753",
"message": "A howl rang out, signaling the arrival of the Vanathi representatives. The lone, long note rippled through Ezocar, clearing the pack's path. Village's inhabitants replied with slamming doors as they retreated into their homes. Those that remained, believing themselves to be bold, murmured rumors and judgments. Their words were met with growls but nothing more, Rathiva had ordered peace. The brutish behemoth strode at group's center, unmistakably their leader. Midday sun spilled across her bare, muscled frame. Her chest was bound in cloth, the scant clothing putting her scar marred skin on display. Some believed wound's remnants were shameful, a sign of weakness or poor skill. Rathiva wore them with pride. She fought without hesitance, at the forefront of every battle, and had survived every wound thus far. Each scar proved her tenacity and resilience. \n\nRathiva's vibrant gaze observed scurrying figures at street's end, the grog house's patrons fleeing from Mursha no doubt. A smirk of amused approval tugged at the goliath's lips. She felt a faint sense of sisterhood with the war inclined orc, but that would have no affect on today's negotiations. The plans presented by the great Skybreaker leader would have to benefit the Vanathi tribe. Rathiva's respect for her would not be motivation enough to put the pack in harm's way. Her attention shifted briefly to the pixie haired goliath at her side. They shared the same eyes, further observation would provide the clues necessary to piece together their relationship. Rathiva had brought her sister, hoping the young spitfire would learn something. It was a risk, but one she found necessary. If something were to happen to her the young goliath was next in line, and needed to be prepared.\n_ _\n\nRathiva took her final steps to the grog house, pushing through the entrance at the head of her group. This was her first display of trust. The Skybreakers had ample opportunity to prepare an ambush but she sent no scout. Her hulking frame filled the doorway, plainly dressed and *Unarmed*. Her second display of trust, but also a sign that the goliath likely felt she was enough weapon herself. Rathiva closed the distance between herself and Mursha as her followers dispersed, reluctantly making themselves comfortable amongst the orcs. The goliath dipped her head in greeting, releasing a clasp at her waist. The pelt that hugged her hips fell away. She grasped it with a clawed hand, draping it over the nearest chair before settling opposite the red orc. The seemingly simple item was as prized by Rathiva and her tribe as the great hammer was by the Skybreakers. The goliath resisted the urge to examine the faintly glowing weapon, instead meeting Mursha's gaze.\n\n\"Greetings, Herald of War.\" A fitting title for the woman before her. Her eyes roved over the orc, fully taking her in as grog was offered. Rathiva set the battered mug atop the table's worn surface, speaking further, \"I'm not one for pleasantries. Let's get to the point, if you have no objections?\" The establishment had been cleared and it was assumed each leader trusted their present tribe members, meaning they should be able to speak freely. Rathiva's sister flanked her, arms folded over her chest and a stern expression on her face. She refused grog with a grunt, gaze fixed on Mursha.\n_ _\n\n\"My sister,\" The Vanathi leader spared few words on her sibling's introduction, \"She's here to observe.\" Rathiva guessed the orc mother understood such an endeavor, her daughter would likely train to be the next Skybreaker leader, if not more. It was her assumption that the young orc was the primary reason for their meeting. Rathiva would stop at nothing to see her sister happy and successful, Mursha likely wanted the same for her daughter. There was no better way to accomplish this than to take the throne of Dasvaz, to shape all their futures."
},
{
"author": "Mursha Skybreaker | Herald of War",
"message": "As the doors to the grog house swung open once more, the orcs within it fell silent and shot their glances at who entered. There were no hateful glares or obvious signs of disdain on any one orc's face, but there was no expression of respect or awe either. They simply watched as quietly as they could, for they knew interrupting Mursha could cost them greatly. This matter was of great importance to her cause, that much they were all well aware of. Mursha kept her red eyes glued to Rathiva the entire time the goliath stepped into and walked across the grog house. The orc did take note of the lack of weapons, but chose not to dwell on it too long. For all the goliath knew, this could be a trap for the pair of them. Umras likely had spies of some sort within his ranks. Slaves always managed to get information from one end of Dasvaz to the other, this much was simply fact. Leaning back in her chair, Mursha slung an arm over the back of it, her hand dangling idly over the front as she furrowed her brows.\n\nNodding back toward Rathiva, her words practically pulled straight from Mursha's mouth. A faint smirk soon emerged onto the orc's face as Rathiva spoke her title, respect slowly filling the look in her eyes. \"Greetings, White Wolf.\" Mursha would have called her 'wrath', but it would likely sound as though she were giving the goliath a nickname of her actual name, and she'd rather not offend anyone by seeming so informal. \"I agree, let us get on with it.\" Mursha's voice was heavy and deep, nearly sounding like a man's. Eyeing the younger goliath beside Rathiva, Mursha offered nothing more than a simple nod her way. It was true, the Herald understood better than likely anyone present how important it was to train the next generation. The sibling's strong gaze was one Mursha returned, but it quickly slid back to Rathiva with a sigh.\n\n_ _\n\"I'm sure you've heard of this *'speech'* The Slave Chief gave yesterday morning. Just this morning the damned scale-heads in my camp attempted to escape. It cost most their lives.\" Mursha shook her head with a glare in her eyes, one that was obviously meant for Umras Kilfras. After a long pause, the orc woman took a long drink from the tankard in her hand, that look of pure hatred for Umras lingering in her eyes. \"I can't stand the lizard bastards that plague Dasvaz. They make for shit slaves and even worse leaders. I want them *Gone.*\" Mursha growled, the grip around her tankard tightening. Taking a short second to collect herself, Mursha's eyes fell into Rathiva's, her own filled with a look of determination. \"I suggest a meeting.\" Once more, the Herald leaned back in her chair, scratching her chin idly as she thought of the words that would soon pour from her mouth.\n\n\"A meeting between myself, you and Umras. Only the three of us, however. At Rommolsgrul.\" That name carried enough weight to make any and every man or woman in the room widen their eyes. The place Mursha spoke of was sacred to all in Dasvaz. It was a place where the greatest chieftains, war mongers and fighters were buried alongside most other warriors of Dasvaz; orc, goliath, dragonborn and kobold alike. No man or woman dared set foot in Rommolsgrul and shed blood, for it would result in being killed by your own tribe. This was known by all, so Mursha was certain the meeting would be peaceful. With a deep inhale, Mursha looked around the room with only her eyes before settling back in on Rath. Her next words would cause a shockwave to ripple through the room, as what she was about to say had never happened in the history of Dasvaz. \"I will strike a deal at this meeting with Umras-\"\n\n**\"-we let he and his lizard-kin flee from Dasvaz, and take the chieftain throne without a single drop of blood.\"**"
}
] | 839 | 2,443 |
418 | 2023-03-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "siglei",
"message": "The ravine was full of life; with the first few warm breaths of Alynthi passing between two earthen serpents, carrying with those gentle exhales the arrival of spring. But things here were not so pleasant, indicated by the occasional wail of the broken and chained that echoed against the rocky walls trapping them here. Their despair formulated in the night sky as dark clouds that wept over this unforgiving land, concealing it away from Lunam's silvery, half-opened eye that lingered high above. Perhaps too from Solaris, as this storm seemed intent on remaining even when she would awaken at dawn.\n\nHis travels had been long and brutal, the land seemingly determined to see him join many others beneath its bloodied soil. No matter how it challenged his survival, though, he always prevailed: a sapphire-scaled dragonborn wrapped in many layers of muted, earth-toned fabrics. He pushed through the tavern doors, greeted by a few cold glances though otherwise his arrival changed nothing of the bustling interior. The warm glow of many candles, the smell of savory meat being roasted in the hearth; he supposed there might've been *Some* Pleasantries in Ezocar after all. Having journeyed for a few weeks, he could only hope that there were more to be found.\n\nHe moved silently through the crowd, or rather the loud roar of savages cheering on the brawl off to the left had simply drowned out the very sound of his footsteps, and he made his way over towards a turned-over table to the right. He took his careful time setting the table back up, positioning the chairs in satisfactory places around it before he'd take a seat. It was clear how his arm stayed close to his side that he was injured in the torso, though given the lack of any blood on the cloth about his body, he presumably had it wrapped up. Candlelight shimmered along the metal collar around his neck, which he tried to keep mostly covered so as to not draw any more attention than desired."
},
{
"author": "bdgkagekage",
"message": "\"A drink valued patron?\"\n\nSliding into the seat next to him, a smaller Dragonborn with deep purple crystalline scales offers a cup with a vermillion hue to it. He tilts his head and grins, a blank stare looking *Through* The newcomer.\n\n\"Haven't seen you around here before, most slaves stick more closely to their master's for fear of being taken by a rival slaver. Are you new in?...\"\n\nHis voice trails off, noticing the man wincing his jaw sets, sighing his seductive lilt gently changes to concerned, his posture following suit as he makes a motion to reach a hand towards his wound.\n\n\"Alright, come off it, was it the Rat Pack? Knew those scoundrels were getting too close to the main road, I'll ask Frazik to keep a close eye on the street tonight, if you're staying at the Bucking Bull he'll make sure you reach it safely. Not let me see the damage...\""
},
{
"author": "siglei",
"message": "It was hardly the kind of action he was expecting tonight, as a fellow dragonborn joined him at the table and initially attempted to pull at his heart's strings. He sat so awkwardly next to him, the color in his scales almost fading for a moment as he visibly debated... *Something*. Likely what sort of reply to give the stranger.\n\nIn rapid response to the amethyst hand that reached towards him, his own gloved sapphire one grasped along the stranger's wrist and quickly shoved downward, more or less pinning that hand against his thigh beneath the table. It was hardly a non-suspicious way of hiding the fact that one slave was attempting to be caring towards another, and he could only hope that the stranger wouldn't take any offense or worse. He subtly shook his head in an effort to convey that that was a bad idea, periwinkle hues then casting themselves towards the rowdy crowd of many different people: mostly the kind that were seeking anything to satisfy their passion for violence.\n\nHe watched that crowd for a while, almost as if he were looking for something, or someone, but eventually he turned back towards the stranger and attempted to mouth his name: Ek'luko. If it wasn't clear before that he couldn't speak, it would be now in the way his throat and tongue moved, and the distinct lack of sound despite his effort. There was nothing more than the occasional quiet release of air from his lungs. He then mouthed \"Room\", his other hand gesturing towards the stairs across the way before he looked back towards the stranger and tilted his own head in wonderment."
},
{
"author": "bdgkagekage",
"message": "The pin nearly resulted in a panicked scrabble from the smaller of the two before he noticed the shake of the head. He squints his honey gold eyes in confusion in the loud din of the bar room, tilting his head to hear better while his jewelry jangled from his horns.\n\n\"You're name is Ekko? That's a simple name enough, I think my new favorite from anyone else that's passed on through. The masters call me Gem, although for only a couple gold you can call me anything you'd like~\"\n\nWith a wink and a fanged grin, Gem stands, a drink in hand as he swaggers his hips while mouthing subtly.\n\n*\"Room B, second on your left. I'll be waiting.\"*\n\nWith another sultry smile that didn't reach his eyes, Gem twirls about in the loose fitting garb that may have had better fit an exotic dancer from Khisfire. Glittering in silks and jewels, he flicks his tail teasingly and makes his way through the crowd."
},
{
"author": "siglei",
"message": "There was a look that formulated upon his facial features for but a moment, pulling his eyebrows down and adding weight to the eyelids of those now half-closed hues. Even his lips were affected; slanted with a bit of tightness in one cheek. It all conveyed one question in response to hearing his name be said wrong: *Really?* He supposed it wasn't too far off, though. Nor that it was too bad of an idea for this \"Gem\" To believe it to be his proper name should trouble arise.\nShortly after Gem departed, the thing Ek'luko was searching for revealed itself; an older orc who forced his way through the crowd to the barkeep, a series of chains and collars making up the belt he wore that rattled together with his every step. A lesser master hailing from Kadzur, and one of the many that Ek'luko had served when he was far smaller. He watched as the orc began to throw back tankards of alcohol, likely friends joining him as they shared genuine laughter which echoed in his mind for several moments. Such cruel people who didn't deserve to know happiness... But as long as certain things had remained the same over the years, tonight would be the last time this master enjoyed himself.\n\nMaking his way to the stairs was more of a challenge than he had expected; at best the tavern folk bumped into him and shoved him along, at worse he found himself in the middle of a few fights both physical and vocal. He was nimble enough to slip on by, eventually stumbling into the stairs and quickly retreating up towards the next floor. No amount of wood or rock could completely keep out the sounds of the crowd below, but at least the roar of their voices was muffled. Hopefully after a few more drinks, or more people are thrown out, the night may know some proper silence for a few hours. Until then, the chaos below would make his task quite easy assuming that lesser master would eventually see himself in an alcohol-induced slumber.\n\n\"Room B\" Was certainly far from the finest tavern chambers Ek'luko had ever known, but considering this was Ezocar it was much better than the alternatives he knew of. Tattered crimson drapes billowed at the window, a soft breeze welcoming him to the room. He cautiously placed one foot against the wooden floor, perhaps testing just how noisy these boards were before he continued inside and closed the door behind him. In truth, the now-called Ekko wasn't entirely certain what to expect. He certainly had some ideas, most which he hoped wouldn't happen, but he supposed that whatever may come of his interactions with Gem would provide him enough distraction for the next hour or so; at least until that orc would pass out somewhere."
},
{
"author": "bdgkagekage",
"message": "Ek'luko enters to find Gem half naked, pulling their thin silk arm sleeves and vest, and instead was already halfway dressed in much more modest grey robes, brown boots and a modest pouch with assorted items of convenience such as coins or modest long sustained foods like dried meats and fruits. The unfortunate part of this room was that is was near bare, no seperate room to change and not even a wardrobe to hide behind. That meant Gem's back was clear to see, long dulled scars that sat under new cuts and chips were plain to see amongst his otherwise sleek scales. The collar as well bulged awkwardly thick for an iron manacle, taking up far too much space to the point if Ek'luko looked closely he could see the young dragonborn's neck scales being shifted out of place to make room for the unwelcome piece of attire. The poor things neck must be rubbed raw from how tightly the collar constricted him, it was a wonder he could speak as plainly as he did.\n\nThe second thing immiedietly obvious was the assortment of weapons in this person's possessions. A sheet of iron adorned with a wooden pommel, a shaft of an oaken staff with a rod of scrap metal as the tip of the spear, and finally, a tooth of an extraordinarily large kind wrapped in leather for a pommel. Clearly these were home fashioned, and judging by the pack on the mans bed, he wasn't planning on staying.\n\nFinally finished dressing in not only robes, but thick boiled hides and leathers in armored pieces adorned his arms, shins and chest. Gem straps the various weapons accross his body and faces Ek'luko dead in the eyes.\n\n\"I want in. I know you're up to something, you're different from anyone else I've seen in this place. You're here for a reason, and once it's done you'll be gone. When that happens, I want to come with.\"\n\nHis voice has deepened slightly, dropping but a few octaves to erase the exaggerated excitement of a heat stricken harlot, but rather a relatively androgynous man with a stern glare.\n\n-\n\"I won't weigh you down, I have magical capabilities that more than make up for my lack of other skills. I can knit flesh and regrow bones, fill you with strength and energy and protect you from damage, I can even offer my abilities for other arcane foes that would otherwise be difficult to harm.\"\n\nDespite his level voice, the beads of sweat running down his scales and the way his eyes kept flicking towards the door clued Ek'luko in that Gem was nervous... Nervous and *Frightened*.\n\n\"Even if it's just as far aw the next town over, anything would be better than this pit.\""
},
{
"author": "siglei",
"message": "*Again*, with being surprised tonight! He respectfully cast his gaze elsewhere upon noticing Gem was... Undressing? On... Dressing? He didn't exactly look for long enough to completely understand what was happening, and therefore only knew that clothes were being moved around. There was something upsetting to Ek'luko about the lack of furniture in the room; it was far too much a box, a cage even. Anything *But* Kind things happened in this room. At least, that was his assumption.\n\nHe stepped towards the window and leaned against the crooked sill, his attention drawn to the sound of rain impacting against the rock and wood that made up this terrible place. Being nestled between two mountain ranges made for a fantastic strong point; siege weapons and soldiers would've struggled at best to ascend those dark peaks. But the ravine likely came with its downsides too, like the lack of space for farmland and the eventual loss of what forests were currently available. Even local fauna would surely cease to exist after a few years of hunting. Perhaps one day the savages would give the land they die on some more respect and it'd treat them better in return.\n\nEk'luko looked back towards Gem when he would begin speaking; his voice had changed... His entire disposition, even. And he was mentioning wanting to come along with Ek'luko. Periwinkle hues looked deep into those intense golden ones for a long while before he looked back out to the ravine beyond the window, a low rumble of thunder shaking the tavern around them. Again, he visibly debated, offering little in the way of a response to the other dragonborn who was very much afraid. He couldn't help but wonder if Gem was capable of more than support, although having a healer was far from terrible...\n\n*Okay*.\n\nHe mouthed it slowly, hoping to ensure that Gem wouldn't mistaken the word for something else. In truth, he didn't have the heart to deny him. The other dragonborn had clearly been planning to make his escape at *Some* Point and Ek'luko supposed he could at least try to help him. That being said, it was going to be difficult to share his ideas given his inability to speak. Gem would just have to follow along as problems presented themselves, for now. And speaking of problems...\n\nEk'luko slowly removed a few layers of the fabric wrapped around his body, eventually revealing the plain steel cuirass that was hidden underneath. There was a lot of care that went into the metal; made obvious by the near-perfect fit and how even the outward curve of the front and back plates were. By now, of course, there were a few scuff marks and dents but the armor was still able to serve well enough. He pulled on the leather straps at the sides to loosen up the fit, allowing him to push the front plate to the side and show Gem the wound. It was wrapped up to the best of his ability, but Ek'luko was no healer by any means. And by now blood had soaked into the bandages from the wound being torn open over and over again. Clearly, he hadn't really taken the time to recover and likely never would."
}
] | 416 | 2,926 |
558.5 | 2023-03-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "bdgkagekage",
"message": "A ton of bricks had been lifted from Gem's back by the look on his face, and shows his thanks by stepping closer, palming his right hand over the wound while muttering inaudible words under his breath, and the sting of skin knitting itself back together became apparent for Ek'luko.\n\n\"It'll be tender for a couple more hours, but weeks of healing have been circumvented. Not such a bad deal taking me along now hm?\"\n\nDespite their playfulness, his eyes still remained blank and empty, like a window that look out over a field of nothing. Nonetheless, his smirk at least looked real enough, judging by how quickly the sapphire dragonborn's injury closed over, Gem was at least not lying when he said he was an experienced healer. The man ran a finger across the wound, nodding to himself upon causing Ek'luko a quick twinge from newly formed sensitive skin.\n\n\"I'll hold up my end now, let's start start with yours Mr. Ekko. When's the earliest we can leave?\""
},
{
"author": "siglei",
"message": "Ek'luko couldn't say that being magically healed was a *Pleasant* Experience. No, it was in fact quite strange. Between the sensation of pulsating heat that penetrated deep into his flesh, it felt like his skin was being twisted and pinched over and over again. It caused him to press his back into the wall and grip the nearby windowsill in some futile effort to not squirm around, his eyes going wide with surprise as well as discomfort. And when it all finally faded away, he thought the experience was over until Gem ran his fingers over the site, to which Ek'luko couldn't help but glare a little.\n\"*Soon*.\" He slowly mouthed to Gem, tightening the leather straps to his cuirass once more. Although he debated clarifying that his name was properly Ek'luko to the other dragonborn, he wasn't so sure yet that he could be entirely trusted. He fished out his mask from the remaining layers of cloth about his body, the dim candlelight reflecting off of its steel finish. Beyond vaguely matching the shape of his face, it had no details. Well, not any *Intentional* Ones at least; it had some scuffs at the cheek regions and at the nose.\n\nUpon donning the fabric's he'd removed earlier, he stared at Gem for a long moment while he visibly pondered something, eventually taking one of his many sashes and gently wrapping it around Gem's neck and the lower portions of his face: a means to further hide his identity. The people of Ezocar were well known for distrusting strangers, even going as far as to torture them should they find a desire to. But slaves? They wouldn't question another slave within their village limits, surely fulfilling tasks provided by their master be them here or from another settlement. But now wasn't the time to act a part; now was the time to be strangers and seek out that orc who must've passed out by now. Ek'luko pointed towards the bag on Gem's bed and then gestured for him to follow in close behind.\n\nHe listened through the door leading out to the hallway, waiting until presumably nobody was moving around out there before stepping out of the room. He began the process of checking all of the other rooms, listening in before poking his head through the door to see who was asleep inside. Or, in one case, *Busy* Inside but so much so that they wouldn't notice the two dragonborn's sneaking a quick peek. After rapidly closing that door in particular, Ek'luko visibly trembled with disgust before moving on. Of all the rooms upstairs he managed to check, none of them seemed to have a certain blacked out orc inside. \n\nPerhaps some things *Did* Change, after all.\n\nEk'luko made his way towards the end of the hall, pushing up the misfitted window and leaning out to investigate outside. Surely the lesser master hadn't left the tavern already! He couldn't have changed *That* Much. His attention was snagged by familiar laughter, now swayed by the influence of far too much funny-drink: the orc hadn't left yet, but he was in the process of taking his leave at the stables. Ek'luko urged Gem to quickly come look, pointing towards his intended target.\n\nThe years hadn't treated lesser master Sonagh well. Although he was quite physically capable of combat in his early elder years, the way he carried himself wasn't with so much pride anymore. It wasn't for a lack of trying; his spine simply didn't allow him to stand properly upright, the spiteful thing! Salt and pepper dreadlocks fell well past his hips, ending in tattered black ends. Straps of leather had been used to keep those locs braided together, though a few had managed to escape and now framed that surprisingly well-structured oval face. The strong, square jawline, the high cheekbones... Master Sonagh must've been one of the most handsome orcs back in his prime. But now his nose was crooked after one too many blows and deep scars marked his face.\n\nHe appeared to be busy chatting it up with his friends. Some were older, some were younger. Ek'luko either didn't recognize any of them or he simply didn't care, his eyes locked on that one orc in particular for several long moments before he checked around for his options of approach. He climbed through the window and made a leap for the roof off to the left, boots planting onto the trimming while one hand grasped onto a decorative wooden protrusion. He held out his other hand for Gem in preparation for catching him when he would, hopefully, jump on over. From the window, it seemed like he chose to climb over the tavern roof and slip onto the nearby cliff the structure was pushed back against. From there they could easily side-step along and get closer to the target."
},
{
"author": "bdgkagekage",
"message": "*Gem looks down at the orc, wincing and sneering at the same time as he stretches one leg over the sill.*\n\n\"He's been nasty as long as I've been here, I've only been stuck here for a month but he makes it hell for me and some of the others.\"\n\nHe turns to Ek'luko, a blank face once again setting in a mask of friendliness, smiling broadly while steadying himself for the jump.\n\n\"I'm gonna be so pissed if you don't catch me Ekko, but I wouldn't be suprised. But even that would be better than staying here another night. HYUP!\"\n\nLeaping out he barely catches on to the offered limb, a foot scrabbling against the wall as the edge he attempted to use a foothold crumbled into a pile of rubbish nestled in the crook of the building and cliffs. Heaving he pulls himself up, dusting off his robe and nodding in thanks.\n\n\"So, what is it you intend to do with him?\""
},
{
"author": "siglei",
"message": "Ek'luko wasn't so physically strong as to be able to lift Gem up on his own, but he was capable of holding onto the amethyst dragonborn for as long as he needed to find his footing. Once his companion seemed to have a stable stance on the trimming, he interlocked his hands together and offered them to Gem so he could be lifted up over the roof's ridge. Admittedly, there was something sweet about the sight of such a humble individual experiencing even just a taste of freedom. It caused his very eyes to smile, a friendly warmth saturating the reddish undertones of his irises.\nOnce Gem was over and on the other side of the roof, he'd quickly follow behind, his fingertips clawing along the messily-made shingles. He must've looked similar to a cat clinging onto curtains. Now back at the other dragonborn's side, he waved for him to continue following before side-stepping along towards the dark, narrow cliffs. Thankfully, they wouldn't need to jump a gap; they could just step onto the wet rocks and duck into the shadows.\n\nWhat *Did* Ek'luko want to do with lesser master Sonagh? In truth, he wasn't entirely sure how he wanted to make the man cease to exist. He had been trained to be quick and precise with executions, but... It didn't seem fair for such a terrible man to have a rapid death; to *Feel* Nothing after all the pain he's caused to others. The only response Ek'luko could give Gem was a comical shrug of his shoulders, the kindness that remained in his eyes only scarcely hiding the hate he felt towards the orc.\n\nNow that they were as close as they could be to the group without just... Being right there on the ground with them, Ek'luko lingered at the jagged edge of the cliff, perhaps listening in to the conversation the slavers were having or debating what to do next. His eyes scanned around with far less thoroughness; almost as if he wasn't visually paying attention. His head turned slightly, offering his ear to the discussion that now had become a lot more hushed down below. All the tipsy banter and laughter was gone. The sapphire dragonborn only new a few words of orcish, which was hardly enough to be able to grasp what the masters were talking about. Something something Kadzur something something slaves and moved.\n\n*Are people getting moved to or out of Kadzur?*\n\nEk'luko watched on as lesser master Sonagh climbed into the saddle of his horse, soon joined by a few others on their own steeds. He didn't have a way of eliminating the orc without his companions getting involved; they kept staying too close. The disappointment glistened in those periwinkle hues, almost as if his very energy had been sapped at. *Next time*, he thought to himself. *There will be a next time*. He looked towards Gem, the loud huff of air suggesting that he was frustrated. At least his travels here weren't entirely for nothing; he still needed to help Gem get out of this cursed ravine.\n\nJust as horses neighed and their hooves pounded into the Dasvaz mud impatiently, ready to ride, a side door leading into the tavern was thrown open. A certain individual that would've been *Quite* Familiar to Gem stormed out into the rain, calling out towards the riders with a voice full of anger. Quick glances were shared between the group both on foot and on horse, and eventually the slavers dismounted.\n\nAs far as Ek'luko knew, *Something* Was happening. But for Gem, his master had realized one of their prized possessions were gone."
},
{
"author": "bdgkagekage",
"message": "Fear paralyzed his body, arresting his nerves and overwhelming his senses as the world began to spin, phantom fingers tracing scale and hot irons striking flesh rang through Gem's mind, and his face dropped from the optimistic tilt it had begun to take on, instead apathy reigned supreme, and his gold eyes lost their shine, returning to the dull marbles that Ek'luko had seen only minutes prievously.\n\n\"Mistress Villia... She's my owner. She leads a mercenary group, *Lupa's Fangs*. They hail from Lazaroth, and they are fiends, every last one of them. I *Hate* Them.*\n\nHe holds a hand to his chest, whispering something under his breathe, and then speaks louder.\n\n\"I hope to Pass Without a Trace from here.\"\n\nUpon the questioning gaze of Ek'luko, Gem shrugs awkwardly as they pull back to the shadows, something shade clinging ever tighter around his stark white robes so as to dull the blinding clothing.\n\n\"My magic works from intent as best I can understand. It helps to speak what I desire into existence, helps to visualize it happening. Things should go easier for us while we sneak as long as I stay close to you. What should we do Ekko?\""
},
{
"author": "siglei",
"message": "Ek'luko most certainly did have a questioning stare for Gem when he began whispering to himself. Not because magic was such a new concept to him, but rather, the need for a vocal component. He couldn't help but wonder what his own spells would've been like if he was able to speak. Would they be stronger? Or perhaps even entirely different? That wonderment sparkled in his eyes, fading only when Gem's own expressiveness did. He looked towards Mistress Villia, likely capturing the sight of her in his mind for later. Just as he couldn't do much about lesser master Sonagh right now, he couldn't do anything about her either.\n\nIn response to Gem, Ek'luko scratched into the rock below them with a plated knuckle: *Wait, take horse. Leave.* He didn't imagine Gem would be the kind of person to be hellbent on revenge right now, but of course there was always the possibility. He supposed if the other dragonborn really pushed for it, he could try to formulate some plan as to how to deal with Mistress Villia. But, for now, he was far more determined to get away from this tavern and quickly. \n\nAssuming plans weren't changed, the two of them would wait until the slavers moved on to investigate inside the tavern... Or to argue over something, judging by how lesser master Sonagh and Mistress Villia seemed to express some dislike towards each other. The group had left one individual to put the horses back into their stalls; another orc with furs draped over his shoulders. He looked almost... Primitive, really. His posture was quite poor, leading him to remain hunched over and his shoulders to be pushed forward. His jawline was uneven, suggesting that he must've suffered an injury to a mandible at some point. Ek'luko had hoped the man would put the horses away and move on, but instead he lingered around the stables like a rejected puppy. Under entirely different circumstances, Ek'luko might've felt some pity towards the orc.\n\nWhere Ek'luko might've motioned for Gem to follow behind him, he instead wanted him to stay back, a singular finger being pressed to the nose of his mask in an effort to convey that Gem needed to keep quiet. If the amethyst dragonborn chose to follow anyway, however, Ek'luko wouldn't fuss too much about it.\n\nEk'luko carefully climbed down the cliff, fingertips catching along slippery rock that threatened to deny him handholds. His boots hit the ground with a muffled squelch, the thick mud pulling at his legs as he cautiously stepped towards the stables. He tugged at one of the sashes about his shoulders, pulling it off and holding it in his hands the same way someone with a casting net would. He made his way to the wall and side-stepped along, peeking around the corner to eye the orc moving hay around. He did so by hand, heaving piles over the stall gates for the horses that he pulled from the nearby misshaped bale.\n\nIt was then that Ek'luko revealed his own grasp on the magical weave, flicking a few fingers and causing a quiet rush of air to knock over a bucket. When the orc turned, he quickly went into motion, drawing a metallic shard from the depths of his clothing and sending it along a new current of wind towards the man's neck. A musical-like whistle echoed softly into the night as the blade flew, and before a cry could be let out, the sash was thrown around the orc's head to muffle his blood-filled call. Candlelight sparkled across the crimson droplets that found themselves on the furs across the orc's shoulders. The orc was dead in moments, his body collapsing silently into the mud by guidance of the dragonborn's arms.\n\nEk'luko quickly waved for Gem to come over, the horses distressed in their stalls. He abandoned the fabric slowly becoming red around the dead orc's head, but motioned with one hand to create a brief rush of air to return that bloodied blade back to whence it came. Another whistle filled the quiet as it did. He slowly approached one of the stalls and showed his hands to the horse inside, quickly settling it down after offering some scritches to the sides of its head. He led it out by its reins, climbing up into the saddle and offering an arm for Gem so he could join him on their current means of *Quickly* Getting out of Ezocar."
}
] | 508 | 3,351 |
316 | 2022-06-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "doctorscatman",
"message": "Regular people often had the day as their ally. The daytime brought warmth and comfort, it brought light and vision, it brought safety and security. It allowed them to go about their business without a care in the world because it was hardly possible that they could dream of being ambushed in the middle of the day when they were alert and ready. The day was their friend and it helped them. But then one might ask what that made the night, then?\n\nThe night was their enemy.\n\nThe night provided cover to the monsters that were out to get them. All those grumkins, shadow monsters, and baleful bastards of the night. It sucked the warmth from the air and gave them the cold, it took away their vision and their security. The daytime was the time of the prey... But the night belonged to the predator.\n\nMohg hid in the bushes, biding his time. He waited for a moment where they would expose themselves in a way that he could exploit. Or if they would go to sleep and make it easy for him to take his vengeance. He observed, and he prepared. Whatever happened that night, his quarry would perish. One way or another."
},
{
"author": "The Tale Weaver",
"message": "As Kogan and Gora wrestled and shouted at one another over a matter so simple, the other two orcs seemed to be much more worried about the meat slow-cooking over their fire. It was likely still a bit raw, but neither seemed to care as they began to cut into it. Taking large and carnivorous bites, Kogan soon noticed while being held in a chokehold and shouted out angrily. \"You whoresons! Don't you eat it all or I'll have a leg from the each of you!\" Shoving an elbow harshly into Gora's abdomen, the orc woman bent over and coughed, the air clearly having been knocked out of her.\n\n\"Damn you, Kogan, you always fight like a wounded dog. Unfair, like the coward you are.\" Gora spit out a clump of blood from her mouth before wiping her jaw, her large teeth that stuck out from her lips yellow and almost rotted-looking. Kogan let out a loud laugh as he rolled his shoulder, his injuries much less apparent than Gora's. \"And you fight like the bitch you are, Gora. Shut your mouth.\" Turning his attention to the other two men, Kogan let out a growl like huff before tearing a piece from one of their hands and shoving it into his mouth.\n\n\"Hagob, Durbal, you two go patrol before we sleep. You both seem to have had your fill already.\" The leadership was clear, and with a groan from each the mentioned orcs stood and grabbed their weapons before stomping off towards the edge of the clearing. They weren't directly headed toward Mohg's position, but close to it. Based on the direction they were traveling, they'd pass within fifteen feet from him."
},
{
"author": "doctorscatman",
"message": "The patient hunter watched and waited. His chest began to well up with rage as he saw them fight. They had the gall to fight over something so meaningless. When they slaughtered his entire tribe, they didn't seem this disorganized, but watching them from here, it felt almost as if Anthron himself had turned on his tribe and gave them the power to do so. But despite his rage, he had to wait. He watched as they fought. Dirty and underhanded, as he expected. He wouldn't have any qualms with killing that one.\n\n*But perhaps not all of them need to die.* He thought. \n\nHe shrugged the thought off for now. He hadn't even defeated them yet. A cruel grin came to his mouth as he heard the next few words. *Go on patrol? Well, they won't be returning, now will they?* He thought. From the little that he had watched of them, two of them appeared to be greedy, one of them a violent and underhanded fighter. The woman, Gora, however, she seemed like one that he could possibly take on. Perhaps.\n\nHe waited for them to pass ahead of him. He stalked behind them, biding his time, waiting for a moment where they appeared to be distracted. Even a momentary distraction would be worth the wait. He pulled his greatsword from it's sheathe as he followed. If it wasn't for the soft, gentle purr of the shadowcat by his side, he would have forgotten the purple tigress that stood with him. Perhaps they didn't need to wait so long. Just long enough that they were out of earshot of the camp."
}
] | 344 | 948 |
227 | 2022-06-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "The Tale Weaver",
"message": "Kogan continued to prowl forward, but the light from Mohg conjuring the flaming spear caused him to move just in time for it to miss, but only barely. The flames grazed the side of his face, leaving it steaming and likely with second or third degree burns. Kogan let out a howl of anger before turning toward where the spear had come from. The moment Mohg jumped from the brush, Kogan raised his greataxe defensively, causing the two to clash with nothing but force. Kogan spat in Mohg's face, \"Ah, a strong one are you?\" Pushing hard against the orc's greatsword, Kogan beat a fist to his chest.\n\n\"You wish to challenge me, boy? Come on then!\" With a slow and heavy spin, Kogan aimed to slash at Mohg, hopefully before he'd be able to raise his greatsword in defense. Gora could hear the shouting in the distance, along with the clashing of metal. Hesitantly, the woman began to make her way over before shouting out for Kogan, \"Kogan! Are you alright? I'm coming!\""
},
{
"author": "doctorscatman",
"message": "Mohg would let go of his greatsword in one hand, raising the greatsword upwards as he flicked his wrist towards the side that the greataxe was coming from. He formed a golden shield to block the blow, his knees bent and his legs spaced to help him to absorb the impact of the blow without needing to move too much. As he did so, however, he immediately brought his greatsword down towards the man. He aimed for his head, however as a consequence to one-handing, the greatsword meant it was less accurate, causing his swing to instead be going towards the man's left shoulder.\n\nIt was clear from the rage that was in Mohg's eyes that they had to have met before. But it was likely that the orc could not remember where. The adrenaline-enhanced strength, the pure unadulterated rage teeming off of him, and the attempt on their life in the night. It couldn't be any more personal if Mohg had tried."
},
{
"author": "The Tale Weaver",
"message": "\"Not even going to respond to me? You attack from the shadows and refuse to speak, how pathetic you are!\" As Kogan's greataxe slammed into Mohg's shield, Gora arrived to see the two orc men engaged in combat. She readied a spell, her hands crackling with lightning as it grew brighter but Kogan snarled her way, \"Stay out of this, wench! This is my fight.\" With a toothy grin, Kogan quickly dodged the sword swing, only to follow up with raising his axe to slam down onto Mohg. \"Baaah!\" Kogan let out a yell of anger, and used all his rage to fuel his downward blow.\n\n\"Kogan!\" Gora called out in protest, but she simply couldn't disobey him. She of course knew in her heart he'd win, and couldn't afford the repercussions for going against his word if he did. All Gora could do was watch and wait, but all the while her muscles and demeanor were tense with the urge to join the fight. The electricity died down a bit, but faint crackles remained."
},
{
"author": "doctorscatman",
"message": "Mohg dropped the large and bulky greatsword to the side. He knew in an engagement that was this close in range, he needed to have weapons that were smaller. The golden shield disappeared, as an amber colour flared from within his tattoos, before quickly forming these fiery gauntlets with blades extending from above his wrist. He raised the arm and bashed the axe-head to the side to redirect the blow whilst simultaneously thrusting his other fist towards his chest in order to have the blade pierce towards his heart.\n\n\"You do ***NOT*** Deserve a word from me, you murderer!\" He roared in range as he parried the axehead to the side. \"Not ***ONE*** You child-slaughtering mongrel!\" He screamed as he thrust the bladed fist towards the man's chest. The adrenaline still running through his veins meant that he moved faster than he normally would should he find himself in a combat situation. He was normally a calm and collected individual, but the memories of his tribe, his family, raced through his mind and he saw red. He wanted vengeance, and he was not going to let some lousy half-wit orc take it from him."
}
] | 232.5 | 908 |
435 | 2024-04-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Radhur",
"message": "*On the winds through the mountain ridges of Ezocar, there drifted the faint scent of blood. It was slight enough that to most thinking beings, it was barely there - yet to the subject of the day's hunt, it would have been deep and strong, filling the vicinity with its red scent. Crags struggling to survive amongst the rocky terrain dotted the mountainside, and the source of the smell - a mangled, bloody bird - lay half-concealed by the leaves of a small shrub.\n\nRadhur himself lay concealed within another small copse nearby. Though the massive frame of the orc was hard to hide from the prey he hunted, it was not an insurmountable challenge. Stones, sticks, and debris he had piled over himself helped to complete the illusion. To hide the scent of the blood on his hands, he had washed his hands in a nearby stream, covering himself in mud for coloration and additional scent blocking. Beneath the bushes he waited, eyes scanning the nearby landscape, ears and nose open.\n\nHe had often made a habit of coming up onto the Twin Horns for his own enjoyment. Here he had been made a man, and here his children would follow in his footsteps or earn their pitiful deaths. The weak had no place in the wild, and neither did they have a place among the Red Sun of Ezocar. His breaths came slowly and evenly, minimizing sound and movement. Animals tracked movement quite easily, but when one laid still, most lost their fear. That was often the trick. To lie still, and let prey believe they were safe. \n\nNo movement.\n\nThe black hair of Radhur had been thoroughly turned a mottled clay brown, as had his green skin. The feel of the mud on his body had been somewhat cooling once he had gotten used to it - and even as it dried and began to shed, he kept himself still, allowing the sparse leaves and the scattered stones and sticks to do their job. With stillness and patience came combat. The calm before the storm. Sooner or later, the scent on the wind would bring a challenge.*"
},
{
"author": "Llenalla Telenna",
"message": "**Up atop the Twin Horns, a scent laid and a Hunter in perfect stealth. The clump of nature's resource among the frame of the Orc Chieftain, blended into the ground that he himself claimed. The actions of an expert, no doubt. - And one so driven to claim this Hunt so readily prepared. As was the hobby for any Hunter or local fishermen, the grinding skill of patience. Whatever prey he sought, surely they would come. And once there, to face the full might of Radhur of the Red Sun! And sooner or later, that silence would ease into the satisfying patter of a local beast. **\n\n**Mantling across the mountainside with a snout raised, came the lurking prowl of a feral beast. From behind the cover of the small copse, lay only a fainter vision of its presence. Thick fur, sharp claws and a set of teeth sharp and violent. Its size almost doubled that of an Alynthi dog, for only the strongest would survive these feral lands wracked with civil strife and a culture of conquest.**\n\n**The beast was clearly there for one thing: the scent of blood that caught its snout. The trap laid. The Feral Warg's ignorance would prove its undoing, as it leered closer and closer to the bloody bird. A gaze outward for assurance of its loneliness. Spying across the local bushes and cover but finding nothing to legitimise its caution. The bait had been found, and now the trophy seemed to be free to claim! But to be claimed by who..?**\n.\n\n_Before Radhur could claim his prize, a different scent would suddenly catch the air. Formerly concealed, under the shroud of a magical nature. Then, the brief bustle of activity at the opposing bustlehroud of cover from Radhur. A hurling projectile racing forward, a dart-like entity that struck in violent fashion into the side of the Warg beast. A yelp roared out, yet the sharp pinch was not its intention. A vial of a strange liquid injected into the beast, not wrecking at the creature in pain but bringing it to a dulling slow. A drowsy nature capturing the feral beast of Dazvas, as it slowly began to take effect.._\n\n_The culprit didn't seem to show themselves after the fact, simply a low activity and the growing appearance of a silhouette from within. Of something distinct, a set of piercing red eyes that watched with bated breath. One that didn't carry the height or might of Radhur, but a particular cunning._"
},
{
"author": "Radhur",
"message": "*The warg that approached was smaller prey than he had wished, but it would be serviceable meat for the night. He knew of several ways to skin a warg so that the meat was untouched, and provided a man did not eat the liver, it could be flavorful and juicy when cooked over the right flame with the right spices taken from Khisfire. Stillness, he reminded himself. Breaths came in and out with as little movement as they possibly could, noiseless in the afternoon.\n\nYet the silence was broken by a yelp, and a dart found its way home in the side of the warg, who slowed after its impact. Another prey animal, he though to to himself - though often with those who walked upright, it could be difficult to tell. This one had concealed itself well enough, though it would show its face soon enough once the poison it had made its weapon worked, and the warg began to drop off to sleep. \n\nBreathe. Do not grin.\n\nHis face remained completely still, the eyes trained on the warg. No movement. Radhur was rock and stick and rubble in the shallow ditch, concealed beneath the shrubs that hid him. There he would stay in search of the second prey. What animal hunted with such a dart? None of the Red Sun he knew were here in the mountains. One of them could have been hoping to return with his head. They would be sorely disappointed if that was their aim. Beneath him lay his long-handled battle-axe, and he took comfort in its presence. But still, he laid quiet, and watched.*"
}
] | 436 | 1,305 |
357.333333 | 2024-05-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Radhur",
"message": "*Another animal then, he decided. Other elves would have little reason to continue hiding unless they had already found a way to put an arrow in the back of his head, and then he would have been dead already. The preparation was done. The prey was found. But this elf was not preparing to eat the creature she had captured - she was neither skinning it nor planting a knife in its neck to ensure it would make sweet meat and easy draining. Ropes. Was she planning to sell it at market? \n\nShe was not of the Red Sun. Outlanders poaching animals from his lands would not be tolerated. In the manner of the Red Sun, he would put her grievances to rest. One breath. Two. His muscles tensed slowly as he braced himself to rise as quickly as he could, and the shape of the battle-axe against his stomach was ever more clear in his mind. The most amusing plan, he decided, would be to sell **Her**. Thus it would be. The drow would have their wayward daughter.\n\nHe had no way of reaching her without alerting her - he had set the trap for animals, and the distance was not so close between them that it would be closed before she realized what was happening. His best chance was to startle her well enough that the shock would not wear off before he had his battle-axe at her throat. \n\nThe silence broke.\n\nWith a full-throated roar of frenzied action, Radhur erupted from beneath the pile of sticks and stones, barreling towards her at full speed from behind. He emptied his lungs in a deafening, primal shout that shook the crags around them, and his footfalls on the stone were heavy as he rushed for the outlander who found herself in the wrong place, at the wrong time. He kept his eye out for the bushes - one could never be too careful - but whether he reached her in time for the strategy to take effect was the crux of the issue...*"
},
{
"author": "Llenalla Telenna",
"message": "_The silence of Dazvas pierced by that threatening roar. Pointed ears darted up instinctively, senses rushed as Llenalla forced herself up quickly and shifted to the direction of the noise. A rushing barbarian, a towering Orc with a heavy axe and a thrill of the hunt. A local. - How intriguing._\n\n_The She-Elf knew better than not to expect such a potential threat, more than one variety of beast littering these lands. Her momentary startle turned to a cunning resolve, a hand gripping at the hilt of her blade yet the realisation notable. She didn't have the time to prepare a strike herself._ \n\n_Instead, during those momentary thoughts of planning as she shifted her form and stared Radhur in the eye, would her eyes flicker a notable shift in colour. Overtaken in her sight, her vision claimed another closer familiar as a distasteful chittering rushed from the bushes and for Radhur's!_\n\n_The origin of the bushes, oh it was clear! Radhur had spelled out it was an animal, but perhaps not what type. Out springing from the bushes came a beast of six legs and eight eyes, with the subtle glow of one's familiar. Size slightly larger than the Warg set under the Drow's bindings. - It's intention to hunt as it rushed out from the bushes and shifting to hurl itself at Radhur's side. To intercept. A beast not foreign to these lands. No, a creature bred under Lazaroth's vile watch._\n\n_If the Spider proved ample enough distraction, Llenalla would draw at her blade yet keep her whip contained for now. Dashing herself a slight movement back into the familiar shrubbery to catch her bearings. If Radhur wouldn't stop, her aim would be to dodge. While not as strong as this foe, she would remain the agile competitor._"
},
{
"author": "Radhur",
"message": "*Disappointing, he thought, that the woman was not as flighty as he had hoped. Perhaps there was some steel left in her, but that could be bent and broken. He closed the distance quickly, one pounding stride after the other bringing him to maximum speed as the muscle-bound figure of the orc chieftain worked in harmony towards acceleration. He had almost reached her in a moment, axe raised high above his head, still bellowing out his challenge.\n\nAnd then the bushes revealed their secrets.\n\nAn instinct within him that ran deeper than much else bid him check the blur in the corner of his eye - and as the spider leaped out to hurl itself at Radhur, the axe changed direction. No longer would he aim to cave the side of the woman's armor in with a blow - there were claws and venomous teeth to fend off. The battle-axe sang through the air as he turned the edge to the source of movement.\n\nA spider. He might have laughed if he had the time, but combat, like all things worth doing, was only a whirlwind of sensation and reaction. The only thing was the swing. As he turned, he could not forget that the woman was waiting - whether he buried the axe in the spider or not, there was her dagger to avoid...*"
}
] | 392 | 1,072 |
350.666667 | 2024-05-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Andreas Featherfall",
"message": "*Andreas had been lately spending more time going between Lazaroth and Gantrick. Which the need of a new blood supply in Lazaroth he'd been coming here to talk to his old contact, trying to get them to move a small branch there. Though that had been harder to do than he wanted. He had been willing to pay for the small branch shop but there was too many variables that had to change in order for his contact to even do it. \n\nBeing tired from the whole ordeal he'd decided to make his way to the market. It was too late to be flying back, even though he could if needed. But he didn't feel like it flying back, he wouldn't be missed for one night. Doc had been busy lately so being able to see them was out of the equation for the moment.\n\nTaking a look at the stands he would see what all there was to off, some were selling familiar jewelry, there was a few baked goods, fish and other meats, clothes, etc. It seemed like there was a good amount of things getting sold today. Maybe he would just have to get something, he thought about getting something for Doc though they were always a bit hard to think of getting a good gift for. Maybe a good meal, they couldn't taste but didn't mean he couldn't make something good to eat for them. He would think this over a bit as he looked through all that was getting sold. Coming over to a fish stand as he looked over the variety of fish this one seemed to be selling.* \"Do you just catch the fish or do you know the nutritional value of the different ones you have here?\" *Andreas would look down at the siren, he didn't care what they were as long as it wasn't a tiefling. He still couldn't bring himself to be around one even after all these years.*"
},
{
"author": "Iiakea",
"message": "He couldn't help but noticed the winged man as he walked down the street, eyes being drawn to his form. It was rare to see an Aasimar, of all races, in Gantrick, but not an unwelcomed sight. They were holy protectors, so it was quite good to see one parading down the street. What he wasn't expecting, though, was for the man to stop at his stall and look at his wares. Now that was a special kind of treat.\n\nHe moved to grab the most nutritional fish of the bunch, a large blue one with claw marks running down it's side. The fish wasn't the prettiest, looking a tad.. Deformed, but those native to Gantrick would recognize it as good meat. Not tainted, just oddly shaped to deal with the neigh ever present cold. A good fish for a good meal, some would say.\n\n\"This would be your best bet if you're looking for something nutritional. Able to feed a whole family, good at filling up stomachs.\" Iiakea smiled as he talked, those sharp teeth poking out beneath the flesh of his lips. One large scared hand held up the fish while the other moved as he talked, swaying and emphasizing his words. It was quite a sight to see the siren try to actually *Sell* Something. He wanted the cash, so it was a tad unclear to non locals if his words were actually worth anything. Well, to locals his words would obviously be taken as meaningless, but alas the point still stands. Andreas could trust the man's words, or he could choose not to. It was his choice in the end."
},
{
"author": "Andreas Featherfall",
"message": "*Andreas didn't mind the siren, they at least seemed to know their fish which was a good thing. The way the fish looked didn't bother him as long as it would stay being a good nutritional supplement. Though the way it was caught didn't seem as good as one might want it. With the cold weather here it might be around though to catch in such a way.*\n\n\"Well I did say that is what I was wanting, good to know that it's the best one here. Though feeding a family isn't what I really need. Do you happen to have some smaller ones of this kind? I be happy to buy a few of them if you do.\" *He would dig out a bag for getting his coins ready. He knew how sometimes even just one sell was enough to make someone's day. Of course it wasn't something he had to do himself but he'd seen through his years how it did seem like a big deal.\n\nThough it might be a siren selling he wouldn't be easily swayed by words. He had been around too many with silver tongues to know that they were not always the most truthful, but he was here to get fish so it didn't matter. If it was good than maybe he could make something from it that would taste good and be of help. Of course he would have to figure that all out himself with testing the fish with different cooking methods. Maybe he should get the bigger one, but wasting it wouldn't be good either. He didn't know why he kept on worrying so much, he supposed he just wanted to help and this maybe was a good way for the Doc.*"
}
] | 340 | 1,052 |
527.2 | 2024-03-14 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer",
"message": "**It was the evening.**\n\n**The tavern had a boisterous crowd tonight. Patrons at the Wolfheart Tavern filling their bellies with mead. Drinks flowed, pleasantries exchanged between individuals, the hearth of the tavern kept their bodies warm from the ever-winter that was Gantrick's environment.**\n\n**There were odd figures here and there, but Baldwin Icharyd stood out like a sore thumb. Not many Drow Elves in Gantrick, typically found in Lazaroth, Baldwin had been one of few who dared venture outside his kingdom. It was fortunate Gantrick and Lazaroth had been under good terms, else he'd likely be discriminated more severely. The Drow had straight black hair, with two distinct scars. One on the right side of his lip, while another cut would be found across his left eye. Presently his form was obscured by a thick cloak, but beneath those covers who hide sheer peak physicality. Strength that would be kept hidden for the time being. However, viewing those knuckle against his visage, he exposed the vascularity of his forearms. Each insertion defined, revealing his muscles. From his arm alone he revealed strength.**\n\n**Drinking from a tankard, Baldwin had a knuckle to his cheek, letting out a hefty sigh. He was _bored._ Fortune would come his way, as he watched two Beastwalkers hold a contest of strength. A Bear and a Elk Beastwalker, grasping each other's hands, as they held an arm wrestle. A wager for coin at that. Baldwin watched, looking at how each of the two struggled— but it wasn't long before the Elk Beastwalker slammed the Bear's to the table. The crowd which watched erupted in cheer, whilst the Elk flexed his large bicep.**\n\n**Baldwin had an itch he desired to relieve. He wanted to participate too, but he kept to his tankard. He watched to see who'd be the next individual to challenge the Elk Beastwalker to an arm wrestle.**\n\n**If nobody stepped up to challenge, he would prepare to do so. Despite the risk of bad actors identifying who he was, and making an attempt at his life.**"
},
{
"author": "Storm",
"message": "Storm hadn't seen so many Shapeshifters congregate together before. It seemed that there were ears and tails and paws everywhere. Although she was a feline Beastwalker herself, she was unaccustomed to the variety of her people's appearances. In Dasvaz, in slavery, she had only seen a handful of others like herself. Now they were plentiful and in every shape and size. \n\nStorm couldn't help but grin when she fit right into the crowd at the bar. The bartender only nodded when as she ordered, his eyes lazily flitting over her before focusing on something else. Curious, Storm turned to see what was going on. An arm wrestling match, judging by the flexing and gloating. And two Shapeshifters at that. Storm watched intensely, her golden eyes bright and alert. She was interested in how strong others were of her kind. What if she was considered weak?\n\nShe had no reason to worry. The match was over disappointingly quick. Storm's frown slowly turned into a cheshire grin. She saw an opportunity here. If she could fool enough men into betting against her, she could make some coin. As the Elk flexed, Storm stood up. \"I'll challenge you!\" She said boldly, slurring her words, taking a few gulps of her drink before slamming down the tankard. It earned her more than a few chuckles: a drunken *Cat* Biting off more than she could chew. \n\nShe stumbled her way over to the chair and sat down across from the skeptical Elk. \"Come on, big guy! Don't leave a lady waiting!\" She taunted. With a shrug, the Elk sat down and offered his hand. Storm grasped it in her own, her grip loose. Her ears twitched as the bets were whispered urgently. The countdown began...\n\n\"...3...2...1...Go!\"\n\nStorm debated how to go about this. Should she struggle weakly and then overpower him at the very end? Should she just slam his hand down immediately? Would she spare his dignity or not? In the end, Storm pretended to struggle valiantly to slowly, inch by inch, push the Elk's hand down onto the table. She wasn't quite sure if this was better or worse, but it certainly made the crowds cheer louder. \n\nWhen finally the Elk's hand was pressed firmly to the tabletop, Storm released her grip. She was taken aback by the mix of jeers and cheers. Some seemed elated by the match while others were angry because of it. Already other people were clamoring to challenge her. Smiling a little nervously, she began to play it off. \"Oh, I just got lucky, that's all... No, I'm far too tired... I couldn't possibly...\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer",
"message": "**Baldwin had witnessed, and he would chuckle. A small kitty cat dare stand up against a larger creature's strength? That was cute. He would watch, having his preconceived notions of what would happen, before witnessing a _surprise._ Baldwin would watch as the cat had slammed the Elk's hand down. The crowd cheering and jeering, with her _humbly_ admitting it was sheer luck. The truth was, however, she had so much more to go, and that she had more strength then she let on. Her feline form, although covered with fur, had similar characteristics to his own. She was endowed with strength. One of a _barbaric_ sorts. Real recognized real, and Baldwin knew that she had been like him. Physically gifted with a body to challenge heaven itself.**\n\n**Baldwin slammed his tankard down. He was aroused by this woman's strength, and desired to take a bite out of this kitty. A man from Lazaroth, he knew not to underestimate the strength of a woman. After all, from where he's from, they were in charge. He would be reminded that the small and meek were just as capable of the tall and large.**\n\n\"I'll have a bite.\" **Baldwin had spoke aloud with this deep, and husky voice. The Drow Elf brandishing an ear to ear grin. His heavy black cloak seemed to tangle by his ankles as he pressed through the crowd to reach the feline.** \"Lets make a wager.\" **He would toss a purse onto the table. The coins clattering together in the bag as the purse made a weighty thud against the wood of the table.** \"If you win, my purse. If _I_ win...\" **He would pause, letting the tension build up slightly for dramatic effect.** \"...I want _you_ for the evening.\" **He placed his wager, and deliberately left it ambiguous as to what he meant exactly as have her for the evening. However, if one were to assume to the worst, it was possibly he meant have his way with her this evening.**\n\n**There was slight discomfort in the air at the Drow's wager, but now they wished to see if the feline would take his bet. He was not only challenging her, he was also directly attacking her womanly pride.**\n\n**Baldwin would bring a finger to the collar of his cloak, before unveiling his form. He wore a white tunic, the sleeves reached to his elbows, but exposed his forearms. His shoulders were broad, back wide. He had large traps which peaked out from his tunic's collar. Upon his right shoulder was a leather shoulder piece, which was connected by a strap which wrapped around his torso and back. The strap had a buckle piece on the front, which had the shape of a sapphire gem inlayed inside. Little did anyone know, this was an artificer tool which he used for combat.**\n\n**Now unveiled, he exposed his physicality. He gave off the presence of someone strong— his body was sculpted in such a manner which emphasized his strength. He was stronger than that Bear, or the Elf Beastwalker. Storm would know... He was like _her._ And Baldwin knew that the two were bound to enter a barbaric frenzy to see would be the winner.**\n\n**Which was according to his plan. To agitate her, and force her to _Rage._ He wanted a taste of a fellow beast's fury. And that is why he made his wager.**\n\n**He sat at the table, and eyed her.** \"Don't keep me waiting, _kitten.\"_"
},
{
"author": "Storm",
"message": "Storm ran her hand through her hair as she laughed off another compliment and an offer to wrestle. She was about to take her winnings and excuse herself when a voice cut through the noise of the crowd. Storm's ears twitched as she turned towards the man who had spoken: a Drow Elf wrapped in a cloak that hid most of his features. There was something about his tone that immediately drew her in.\n\nHer eyes widened slightly with recognition. Yes, *Real* Recognized *Real* And she saw the man for what he truly was. His challenge hung in the air. Were people actually holding their breath? Her tail gave a flick as the man made it more interesting with a pouch full of coin. But the money didn't matter as much as the potential challenge. Although it certainly didn't *Hurt* Either, now that she considered it. She wasn't desperate for money - yet - but she might end up that way soon. \n\nAnd yet...\n\nDid she offer *Herself* As some sort of prize to be won? She had just escaped slavery and this situation suddenly made her feel cold. Yet the idea of coming face-to-face with a fellow Barbarian made her heart beat faster. Storm could feel eyes upon her; but she only had eyes for the Drow.\n\nFinally she shrugged nonchalantly and sat back down. Her smile was friendly and her eyes danced with amusement. \"The name's Storm and I'm no kitten. Let's do this.\" There was something devious in her smile as she settled her elbow on the table and offered the Drow her hand. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer",
"message": "**Baldwin would form a ear-to-ear grin, meeting that devious smile of her own. His hand would clasp her own, as his fingers had curled, grasping the feline's hand. He sensed those pretty paws undoubtedly had claws in them still. If she was smart, she would probably use them to her advantage. Baldwin, pondered if he would be able to withstand those death daggers digging into his skin. His offhand would grab the edge of the table, grasping it firmly.**\n\n\"Name is Baldwin. If you need those claws of yours, best pull them out now, tiger.\" **He would dare speak, coaxing her to using all of her tools available.** \n\n**Looking to the crowd, he would speak up.** \"Someone give us a countdown!\" **He would speak up out loud with a firmer, guttural voice.**\n\n**And thus, the crowd complied...**\n\n`\"3... 2... 1... Go!\"` **The crowd erupted, marking the pair to begin their match!**\n\n**Baldwin's arm visibly flexed, bicep popping as his upper body would twist with the motion. What others didn't have that Baldwin had was _technique._ He hadn't solely relied on his arm strength to attempt to brute force his way to victory. No, instead, using is off hand as support, he pushed his upper body weight down against her arm, putting his back and shoulder into the motion as he attempted to ground her swiftly.**\n\n**Baldwin believed victory should be fast and concise. That dominance means winning by absolutely any means. Yet, he trusted that Storm wouldn't falter to him immediately. No, it was true... He liked playing with his food, and he liked when they fought back.**\n\n\"C'mon tiger, show me some balls!\" **Baldwin shouted with guttural fever. To lay his pride down on the line had made him excited— no, more than that. He was totally titillated by the idea he could potentially be bested. Beastwalkers don't live as long as Drow, and Baldwin had a few centuries of experience backing him in this moment.**\n\n**He truly believed he stood upon the precipice of physicality, and would do anything to prove that it was true. And against another barbarian no less? He wished to experience grand euphoria in his victory.**\n\n**Baldwin truly possessed an ego to match his body.**"
}
] | 515 | 2,636 |
400.666667 | 2024-03-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Storm",
"message": "The countdown began and Storm braced herself for the match. Baldwin, as he called himself, immediately tried to pin her, launching his attack swiftly and without hesitation. Storm's hand slipped about halfway to the table before she caught herself. The muscles in her arm tensed as she threw her own force back against him. She wouldn't be toppled so easily.\n\nNor would she be goaded into a frenzy by his taunts. Storm could keep calm surprisingly well for a Barbarian. Her tail flicked behind her as she grit her teeth and pushed back against the Drow. Maybe she *Should* Have used claws, but that would have been an unfair advantage. If Storm won this match she wanted her victory unchallenged.\n\nSweat dampened her forehead as they arm wrestled fiercely. Storm's ears twitched when Baldwin shouted at her and she couldn't help but grin a little. *Tiger* And *Kitten* Were cute, but she sensed this man might need a proper defeat. For a moment she had considered letting him win to preserve his dignity, but perhaps it wasn't the best idea. Besides, he would likely sense that her 'defeat' was a lie. Storm dismissed the idea of losing on purpose.\n\nThey were relatively evenly matched when it came to strength alone. Now it came down to stamina. How long could they maintain the force of the other? Storm's entire life had been a matter of either ending her opponent's life quickly or waiting for them to tire out before killing them. But the Drow was likely to be older than her and had years of experience and training. It was anyone's game.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Baldwin, The Matron Killer",
"message": "**Life had been a gamble. One where people placed their fortune, ego, and pride down, willing to risk it all for a grand prize. Tonight, the dice had rolled in Baldwin's favour, as superior technique and experience would give him the leeway to win.**\n\n**That is not to say he would win effortlessly— no, far from it. He struggled against the feline Barbarian as the pair had their clash of strength. The table shook as the two attempted to push one another down, twisting their bodies into one another to thrust their hands against the tabletop's surface. Baldwin's hand would manage to bend Storm's wrist, placing her at a disadvantage, before giving one last tug to bring her down. His body leaned backwards as he pulled her down, his bodyweight contesting her arm strength as, with a hefty slam, her hand would hit the table's surface.**\n\n**Cheer would explode from the patrons as the victor was decided. Baldwin had been victorious, relinquishing Storm's hand. He would let out a hefty sigh, before standing up and offering Storm a handshake.** \"You're strong, Tiger.\" **Baldwin had spoken.** \"I like that.\" **He would add, bearing a devilish grin as his hand had hung before her.**\n\n**They both knew what the bet was— Baldwin wanted her for the evening, and he would have her. However, the truth was he only desired to agitate the woman to see if she would sink to utilizing that innate strength she and him possessed. She hadn't, and that alone impressed him. He found respect for the feline Beastwalker. He wouldn't undermine her, not anymore anyways.**\n\n**Presumably, if they shook hands, Baldwin would use his head to motion her to come along. He grabbed his coin purse, and threw on his cloak.** \"You like to drink, Tiger? I'll booze you up. Lets chit chat a bit— You've caught my curiosity.\" **Baldwin had spoken, as the Patrons would slowly disperse into their own little groups, chatting away.**\n\n**Baldwin would sign a barmaid.** \"Two stouts— no, make it four. I'm lookin' to have some fun tonight.\" \n\n**Baldwin made a husk laugh, before leading Storm to the table he previously sat at. He would pull the other chair next to him, and motion for Storm to sit beside him.** \"C'mon Tiger. I won't bite.\""
},
{
"author": "Storm",
"message": "They struggled for what felt like an eternity. Neither showed signs of weakness. But too late Storm felt her elbow slip and her hand twisted and that was that. Baldwin overpowered her at last and slammed her hand firmly down onto the table. The crowd went wild as Storm recovered. Well at least she still had her previous winnings. She supposed that it was better than nothing.\n\nOf course his victory meant he would have her for the evening - whatever the hell that meant. Storm would let it play out. Although the challenge had sounded provocative, she wasn't entirely convinced. She took his offered hand and shook it firmly, smiling a little to show there were no bad feelings. The smile, however, was full of sharp teeth.\n\n\"I'll take a drink or four, sure,\" Storm said agreeably. So he just wanted to *Talk*? Storm wasn't entirely certain that she believed him. Everyone had their motives, and they were often hidden. But Storm wasn't going to deny herself a few drinks and a potentially good time. She took a moment to collect her coin from the first match, then moved to follow Baldwin. She sat down beside him, propping her feet up on the seat across from her and settling back.\n\nHer every movement spoke of feline grace and the confidence only a cat could have. The tip of her tail flicked lazily back and forth as she considered him. \"Don't be too keen,\" She said with a contented smile. \"There's not much to me. I'm a simple Cat.\" Was she just being humble or speaking the truth? Storm was very sure of herself, despite her loss. It seemed that a lost arm wrestling match was no true insult. \n\n||"
}
] | 347 | 1,202 |
560.25 | 2022-05-31 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Rhurrik Nephyr",
"message": "You would have thought an aarakocra would have noticed a pure white bird following after him, but Rhurrik was as aloof as ever, unaware of the rules he must have broken roaming the castle without any permission whatsoever. While he happily strummed away at his lute, tuning it and checking for any issues in his instrument that may have proved an issue during a performance, the flutter of the white crow's wings caught his attention. As the winged beast land in front of him, Rhurrik tilted his head curiously. Birds likely accidentally flew into places all the time, but this one seemed different. The bard immediately noticed its pure white form, something rare even amongst aarakocra's it seemed, unless they were owl-like of course. Rhurrik stopped playing his lute nonetheless, and jumped slightly at the loud squawk aimed towards him. Crows were known to be highly intelligent so it must have wanted *Something*. Contrary to popular belief, aarakocra's simply didn't speak bird, so Rhurrik put his hands out, gesturing in a 'what?' pose.\n\nA voice caused Rhurrik to quickly shoot his head to its source, which was a tall and slender pale elf man. Swallowing hard, the bard looked back to the crow almost as if for some guidance before he realized it had flown away, leaving him alone with the stranger before him. Before he could explain himself, the elven man inquired about his presence within the castle, leaving poor Rhurrik at a loss for words. Quickly, he realized this must have been a rather important individual, as he had elegant clothing and no armor, meaning not a guard but perhaps an official of sorts? Ground folk culture and etiquette was complicated, sometimes. Unsure whether to bow, salute or wave, Rhurrik made sure his lute was safely in his hands, almost as if he feared it'd be taken away. Almost like a mother taking away her child's toy.\n.\n\n\"I..- I had an invitation to- well, to play at a ball I thought it was today. I must have come early, is it.. Is it not tonight then?\" Clearly lost, the small bird man's feathers ruffled nervously. Had he broken a law? Was it illegal to arrive early? Would he be thrown in jail? Oh gods, what would his parents think then? Rhurrik could hear them now, *'We told you to stay in Kara-Tur, now look what you've gotten yourself into. Foolish boy.'* Gulping a bit, the fear would be apparent in his eyes but Rhurrik did his best to stay calm. The bard was nearly hugging his flute but in an attempt to hopefully not receive any punishment, he continued, \"I apologize if I offended you, sir.\" His eyes widened as he stared up at the elf, his words likely not making a single bit of sense to the spymaster. Nevertheless, this was all he could offer. After all, he was nothing more than a young adult in aarakocra years, and still had a lot to learn about the world around him."
},
{
"author": "Nox Raephe",
"message": "Impatience brewed beyond the visage of the spy master and despite the fairly harmless looking aarakocra looking anxious in his presence, Nox wouldn't be taking any chances as he remained within the threshold of the door. Then the feathered man spoke, voice timid and hesitant, a little uncertain? Intonation alone served to soothe the paranoid spy master, the contents of his words even more so as Nox's icy gaze cracked a rare smile. Chuckles quietly swallowed by a hand quick to cover his odd contortion of lips.\n\nSmiles weren't a common occurrence, in fact, Nox waggered that he could count the number of times he had smiled in the past years on two hands or less. Most were done out of courtesy or to please his king, forced and unnatural, while this one had taken him much by surprise. \n\n\"Quite early indeed–\" Nox began, a softness thawing the usual ice and ire that coated his words. \"A morning and seven days early in fact.\" And with that the Aarakocra was a threat no more, he was a simple bard that had made an endearing mistake. The half-elf stepped forth from the doorway like a raven leaving its perch and approaching the Bard with curious intent. \"No, no. You have not offended me, I'm simply trying to do my duty maintaining security within the palace. Don't fret, bard.\"\n\n** **\nKeen eyes glanced at the small figure as he closed the distance between himself and the Aarakocra. Coasting over the finely carved lute and the intricate array of coloured feathers, what a curious figure he struck and even to the point that it amused Nox so that his 'smile' persisted. \"Tell me, what do you call yourself?\" The spy master inquired as he paced around the figure in somewhat of a semicircle. Again, his footfall was nearly as quiet as that of a mouse, his cloak wafted silently in the air and the only sounds the half-human seemed to make were the words that fell from his lips. \n\nAt last Nox halted his pacing, eyes keenly locked onto the lute, recalling the pleasant strum he had heard in his rush for the ballroom. \"You play–\" Not quite a question, nor an acknowledgement, the spy master had clearly halted himself. Wanting to say or ask something but would not."
},
{
"author": "Rhurrik Nephyr",
"message": "A frown of pure confusion covered Rhurrik's face as he tilted his head curiously at the smile the elven man gave him. Had he.. Made a joke and didn't realize it? Whatever the case, Rhurrik's fear of being early was in fact true, but the reality of *How* Early was much worse. An entire week? Perhaps the poor bird man needed some glasses, as he must have read the date on the invitation completely wrong, or perhaps thought the date today was much sooner. The look of pure shock, embarrassment and disappointment on the aarakocra's face spoke volumes. Some bard, right? Couldn't even read dates correctly. Swallowing his anxiety as best he could Rhurrik was a bit calmed by the much lighter demeanor of the elven man, a sigh slowly escaping his beak as Rhurrik tried to relax his stiff posture.\n\n\"I suppose a strange aarakocra man roaming around a castle that he shouldn't be in for another week isn't something to be taken lightly then? I had talked to a guard and he directed me here though- I think he might have had the dates wrong too.\" Lowering his voice as if the guard were right next to them, Rhurrik shrugged a bit at the notion. In reality, the guard likely didn't pay much attention to a little bird man bard. He had the invitation of course, and the seal enough likely convinced the guard regardless of the date. The persistent smile from the elf was calming Rhurrik's nerves, however.\n.\n\n\"I'm Rhurrik Nephyr, an aspiring member of the Noteworthy Brotherhood.\" The bard's feathers ruffled a bit as he proudly stated his intent to join the bard's guild in Thyseer. It was even more special given typically king's and queen's and nobles alike ask for bards from the guild over minstrels like him on the street. \"I got a bit side tracked from auditioning for the guild due to this invitation.\" Turning a bit, Rhurrik reached a hand into a small brown bag he had around his neck that hung from his side before pulling out a clean, albeit slightly crumped in the corners, letter with the king's seal upon it. Rhurrik of course didn't realize how easily someone like the spymaster could believe this invitation stolen, as a noble had given it to him. Thankfully however, the invitation was specifically for a 'plus one' so to speak.\n\nHolding the letter out to the elf, Rhurrik tilted his head a bit up at him, the start of a quickly ended sentence catching his ear. An eyebrow slowly began to raise as the bard grew more curious about what he was going to say or ask, his spare hand unknowingly now resting upon his lute."
},
{
"author": "Nox Raephe",
"message": "\"It's peculiar I do admit and I would have expected the guardsmen to take more note of you. However, none can blame them for not objecting to the king's beckon.\" Nox retorted calmly, tilting his head downward to the aarakocra in instinctive response, as though he were speaking to a child. \"It is the nature of my work that I must make anyone's business my own, I didn't recall a summon being made and well – here we are – I had to be certain.\" The spy master spoke as a furrow creased his forehead, the smile on his lips faltering in the increase of seriousness.\n\n\"Rhurrik Nephyr of the Noteworthy Brotherhood, that does have a nice ring to it. Does it not?\" The half-elf addressed with a smirk, a coy tease fresh on his lips as he nodded his head in agreement to his own words. Righting himself from jest and burning inquisition, Nox stood tall, bringing a pale hand to the centre of his chest before bowing his head in a barely-there formal greeting. ,,Nox Raephe, spy master to his majesty king Zarreus, at your service.\" He introduced with stoic calmth, omitting the snide nickname those aware of him addressed him by. \n\nThe sorcerous rogue's features twitched at the mention of an invitation, the curious figure had suddenly grown more and more curious. *A personal invitation?* Nox tried to conjure up thoughts of in what instance the king would have crossed paths with this aarakocra but could find none. \"Thyseer is close enough to warrant a little 'excursion', surely with the seal of approval from a king your entry into the brotherhood would be just about secured, no?\" The question was posed with serious yet curious intent, aiming to measure the man behind the ambition. Step by step Nox approached, pulling the letter from feathered hands and inspecting it with interest.\n\n** **\n\"My, my – you have some friends in high places, bard.\" The spy master chuckled upon inspecting the paper, all seemed to be in order, despite the curious circumstances. \"I look forward to hearing you play. A good lutenist is always a nice addition to any celebration.\" Nox added, hoping to encourage the aarakocra man to show up on the correct date. Genuinely imagining it be a nice reprieve from the noisy crowd and their chaotic laughter. \n\n\"Do you play any elven songs, Rhurrik?\""
}
] | 550 | 2,241 |
491 | 2022-06-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Rhurrik Nephyr",
"message": "As the intermission of nothing more than music and melody soon came to an end, Rhurrik opened his mouth to sing the next verse but Nox's voice reached his ears first. Perking up, the aarakocra smiled wide, realizing he had obviously chosen the write song. Quieting himself, Rhurrik allowed his new elven friend to take it away, and he even matched the magic colors that swirled around him to Nox's clothing and eyes. The bard then sent them to gently sway and spin around the elf himself as he sung, Rhurrik swaying slowly to the lullaby's tune. As the chorus returned once more, the aarakocra began to vocalize through gentle hums, harmonizing with Nox and making the lullaby sound all the more beautiful. Of course Rhurrik was careful not to steal Nox's moment, as it was obvious this song meant a lot to him.\n\nSoon, the song came to an end and the magic Rhurrik had conjured slowly faded away. It almost as if the two were on their own stage, just enjoying the music with one another. Nox's clapping caught Rhurrik by surprise, but caused his feathers to ruffle and a smile to appear out of sheer happiness. Bowing his head in thanks and appreciation, Rhurrik simply couldn't let Nox go without praise himself. While he hadn't heard very many elves sing in his short life so far, the bard knew they were known for their angelic presence, appearances and voices alike. So far, Rhurrik was not disappointed in the slightest. \"Thank you, though you performed just as well I must say. It makes sense that many of the most famous bards in history were elves.\" Smiling brightly, Rhurrik placed his lute behind his back with the strap around his neck.\n\n\"Perhaps when I inevitably make my way to the Brotherhood I'll use that song for my audition. I might have to learn it in elvish first though, a song as beautiful as that deserves to be sung in its native tongue, I think.\" With a firm nod at his own words, it might have sounded as though Rhurrik was simply fluffing his words or kissing up but he\n\nSeemed and genuine, and was. Learning a song in its native language should be miles simpler than learning the entire language, but something he'd do nonetheless. Perhaps he'd tackle the entire language at one point or another. \"Is elvish a difficult language to learn?\""
},
{
"author": "Nox Raephe",
"message": "Rhurrik's magic felt like a warm breeze, rushing onwards and enveloping the singing spy master in their embrace. Embolstering his confidence in song and tune where he normally considered himself but a connoisseur that would enjoy the revels of music and performance from afar. It quickened his breath, pulsing with the adrenaline he could only imagine every minstrel felt upon their first performance of the day or night. Amethyst and icy blue lights dancing with the melody of the nostalgic tune as the bard now too joined back into the song. He was seamless, skilled in the dance of melodies, adding his sound where his companion lacked, and it occurred to Nox that even without that bardic magic infused within the way he made music seem so effortless was magical by itself.\n\nThat sensation, that ambience, it faded as quickly as it had appeared. Making Nox's chest feel tight without it, the sudden rush of thoughts overwhelming his mind. A mixture of embarrassment and accomplishment in a confusing whirl of thoughts. \"Ah.. Uh.\" He stammered at first, uncertain how to respond to the compliment, shaking his head as his body begged to recoil from the unprecedented praise. \"No-no– I got carried away. That's all.\" Nox exclaimed as he threw up his hands as though physically trying to ward off what he felt was undue reward. \"*I'm not–*\" The spy master began in a whispered rebuttal, before abandoning the thought in an instant.\n\n** **\nWith a dead horse he was unwilling to dredge up to this practical stranger, Nox was beyond glad Rhurrik furthered the conversation. He swallowed hard, righting himself from the flustered sensation that had overtaken him moments earlier. The spy master forced a smile as his brow furrowed, digits brushing haphazard curls over one of his barely pointed ears.\n\n\"Elvish is – different – many words directly translated from the common tongue don't quite exist and instead are described by more eloquent phrases. It's a melodic language, so I have no doubt you'd grasp it with ease once you understand the basic concepts.\" Nox prattled on eagerly, glad to abandon the weakness he perceived to have displayed before the aarakocra. Digits and hand covering the faint rose blush that had begun to paint his features. \"I've always compared the Elven tongue to poetry, where some phrases are perhaps a little obscure; they are beautiful and unnervingly descriptive. Phrases that describe words in a way you had never thought to describe them in the common tongue.\"\n\n\"Does that make sense?\" Nox concluded."
},
{
"author": "Rhurrik Nephyr",
"message": "A slight chuckle left the aarakocra's beak as Nox stammered over a simple compliment, but waved a hand to ensure all was well. \"Getting carried away is what makes a performance great sometimes. I think that was one of those times.\" Rhurrik shrugged with a bright smile before tilting his head a bit as Nox explained the elvish language. Truth be told, the bard found it hard to believe that elvish was anymore difficult than aarakocrian, or whatever it was called to the common folk. Aarakocra's simply spoke with whistles, clicks and chirps. Similar to birds, but of course no aarakocra could understand birds, that would be silly.\n\nNodding to Nox's words, Rhurrik felt as though he understood what the elf meant for the most part. Language was always something that interested the bird man, even if he had yet to take any steps towards learning a new one. Elvish sounded beautiful, as did the celestial language he had once heard an aasimar speak. It would be quite the undertaking to learn a new language with no knowledge prior, but Rhurrik was more than happy to take on such a challenge. Especially if it meant his songs would sound more genuine.\n\n\"For all its worth, I come from a place where a whistle could mean multiple different things depending on the pitch change.\" Rhurrik laughed a bit at the thought. \"But yes, that makes sense. If its anything like poetry I'd love to learn it. I feel-\" Rhurrik paused for a moment, his brows furrowing as he tried to place his words correctly. \"I feel as though singing a song or speaking a poem that belongs to or comes from another race in their native tongue makes it much more special, especially if those very people are the ones wishing to hear me perform. Does what *I'm* Saying make sense?\" The bard ran a hand behind his head with a half smile on his face."
}
] | 523 | 1,473 |
587.666667 | 2022-07-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "zekhartha",
"message": "__**Thunder Fest: Ball Room**__\nThe Findara castle's ball room has been entirely redecorated to fit the themes of Thunder Fest. Large banners of Findara's colors have been hung, a band has been hired to play music of all types, and a number of various bards have been assigned to accompany them and sing for the guests. Servants are available with trays of sweets and alcohol, as well as any other assistance guests may need."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*Thunder Fest was certainly an occasion to be remembered every year, Astalios thought to himself, not only for the spectacle of fireworks, but for the excellent statues that could be made of the occasion. The lighting during fireworks displays illuminated the silhouettes of people so very well that it was easy to hold the impression of their shapes in his mind - and not only that, but the expressions of jubilation, of awe, and of wonder at the colors that tended to explode through the sky.\n\nHe could not sculpt a firework to any degree he considered truthful - but he could recreate the people and places present on a smaller scale. The texture of a tree, the ridges of oaken bark as a noblewoman and a nobleman held each other tight by the shoulders as their eyes sparkled and they grinned at the sky, taking in the scene before them. Every detail could be painstakingly pressed in as he worked the metal further and further. For these, he liked to use bronze...\n\nBut there were other events occurring that he needed to pay attention to besides catching a particularly interesting expression or a picturesque moment. Representing his kingdom came first, and with that came the gravity of his station. One needed to look the part, act the part, and not embarrass oneself in order to do the bare minimum. \n\nHe wore his set of plate armor, polished bright, but instead of the dun steel that he normally wore, he had turned it to pure gold, the glossy yellow sheen of the metal contrasting quite well with the white color of his pauldrons and other armor plates, which he had chosen to line with sterling silver in lip service to one of his monikers. Over the armor, he wore a fine gold-woven tunic of yellow fabric pressed with the black form of the crowned stag, his family's emblem. On his head was seated a plain golden circlet, a crown with no detailing beyond the fact that it existed and was made of unadulterated material, which was as he preferred.*\n\n*Bells and whistles, he thought to himself, and excessive gems and decoration, could ruin the crown. Just as one would not look at a masterpiece of a painting and say to oneself \"I believe this needs more green\", so too did he believe that adding more gems to a crown missed the point of the art.\n\nTrying too hard to prove your power often meant you had none to begin with.\n\nAt his belt, he wore his dagger, a steel blade, simple and prudent, but the sheath now was made of the same gold and silver as his armor. As it was improper to wear a warhammer to a ball, he had elected to leave it behind in Alynthi. As he entered the ballroom, the heralds at the doors gave the announcement with a bow - and he strode forward past them with a nod as they performed their services admirably.*\n\n\"His Royal Highness, Prince Astalios Dilitirios of Alynthi, Quicksilver, The Silver Stag, The Iron Prince.\" *The prince himself was a sturdily built man. His eyes were a muddy shade of brown, his face somewhat weathered from the long years of campaign. His jaw and nose were both prominent, and the neutral expression on his face trended towards grim as he looked over the party before him. His reputation as a battlefield commander meshed well with his appearance, and there was an air about him of solid strength, the ability to survive in the midst of a war.\n\nSocial situations were not his forte, he supposed, but he had been running the gauntlet of parties lately in search for someone to marry, and this had made him somewhat more comfortable with the occasion. He simply kept walking through the crowd of nobility, making the necessary introductions as he went along, until he made it to the first table of refreshments, at which point he selected a cup of wine, a watered down vintage of red. Keeping his wits about him was as necessary as breathing...*"
},
{
"author": "Prince Hannibal Samir",
"message": "Thunder Fest was never on Hannibal's list to attend but this year he thought he might as well throw his head out. Needing to represent his kingdom, the prince kept a smile and head held high. \n\nHannibal walked through the open doors to the ball room, then having his name called out made him more excited. \"His Royal Highness, Prince Hannibal Samir, The Prince of Dunes and Waves.\" As his name was called he stopped and took in the scene for only a moment. From the kingdom's colours to the music and other people of class. The eyes darted from floor to ceiling, admiring the options for drinks and snacks as his gaze passed. The Heralds then told the young Prince standing there going on to shoe(?) the prince along into the room.\n\nThe Khisfire Prince made his decent down the steps into the room. His cloak folding down the steps and the excessive gold accessories shining in the candle light. Once down he stuck to the side of the ball room, favouring the servants with sweets and drinks. He'd take some caviar, being the first thing he saw. Not really being a seafood person he found it shockingly quite nice. But the prince right after got stuck into the booze. After a couple minutes already on his second glass but choosing to save this one. The Prince then looked around, feeling accomplished for nothing, after seeing the Prince of Alynthi himself. Just the feeling of being in the big leagues was enough to get him excited. \n\nHe did know this event was defiantly going to have some politics at play, he did feel if King Alyus or that whole side turned up it could feel awkward, especially for him. Being apart of Khisfire one of the few neutral kingdoms. But he hoped his charm and social skills could carry him through this event and possibly make acquittances with a royal or two."
},
{
"author": "Umras Kilfras, Chieftain of Dasvaz",
"message": "*Umras didn't quite understand the purpose of Thunder Fest. He wasn't exactly against it, but he was still confused. On the long ride from Dasvaz to Findara, his guards had informed him about the festival and why it was held multiple times, but the information just never seemed to stick. He was still so unaware of the customs of neighboring kingdoms. He had been caught up entirely in the maintaining of Dasvaz, he never felt like he had time to learn about the kingdoms neighboring him. Though, with the plans he had, he knew he had to catch up. Luckily enough for him, the leaders of Alynthi and Findara would both be here. Unfortunately, Lazaroth and Gantrick would have a presence as well. The social dance he'd have to perform would be one for the ages, but he felt prepared. Or at least, as prepared as he possibly could be. Terror still brewed in his heart as he dismounted his steed at the gates, slowly taking the long walk up to the castle.*\n\n*15 or so tall warriors flanked him on every side, male and female alike. Each stood a foot taller than Umras, none residing below seven feet tall. Each carried massive and rough blades, seeming more like rough lumps of iron than swords. Jagged edges ran down the sides of the warriors, sharp enough to cleave a knight in half. The warriors each held rancid snarls as they walked past the people of Findara, their draconic snouts curled in anger. They couldn't help but feel adversarial to the people around them. Umras, however, smiled precariously as he walked, offering small waves to passing commoners, who returned them almost entirely out of fear. He stood as the complete opposite of his men, dressed in something he had never worn before: Plate-mail. It was heavy, but befitting of strength, he thought. Slowly, he and his guards made their way to the ball-room, standing precariously behind the door.*\n\n*The doors seemed to swing open so slowly, catching the attention of the nobles that lay in front of Umras. Slowly, Umras walked past his guards and into the room, freezing suddenly as the heralds stared towards him. They were surprised. Fair enough. He shrugged slightly, waiting for one of the heralds to remove a scroll with his title. They seemed to sneer softly before their voices boomed across the ball-room, bringing great embarrassment to Umras. He quickly walked past them, trying his best to keep the axe at his hip still as he wandered into the crowd, bearing the title given to him by the heralds.*\n\n\"His Excellency, Chieftain Umras Kilfras of Dasvaz, The Weak, The Meek, The Slave!\""
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*Now, **That** Was an interesting spell on the ears and eyes. He had known the titles of the new Chieftain of Dazvaz for some time, but to call oneself The Weak, and the rest of the titles he professed, was an odd move. It could have been considered a projection of strength, but really, he supposed that it was a title meant to humiliate his enemies. Losing to a man called 'The Strong' was almost expected, but losing to one called 'The Weak' was much worse.\n\nOf course, there was some irony in each statement, as the dragonborn had been through plenty of combat. Gladiatorial combat, wars of succession, riots over a slave being the new chieftain of Dazvaz. He had been doing his best to control his people - or what could be loosely called his people - in a time of conflict. Given how the orc warbands valued strength, he supposed that name might have been an insult to their sensibilities - and a deterrent from being challenged, as the embarrassment of loss would destroy the reputation of any orc that lost to The Slave.\n\nHe wondered if the Chieftain, who had been thus far unable to attent social events, might be different from the last few. There were always threats and challenges for him from them, but The Meek might at least be worth a try, given his rather clever manipulation of the title system in his favor. There was nothing for it, he supposed.\n\nHe strode forward across the ballroom floor to greet the dragonborn, a respectful nod given his way as he presented himself to the Chieftain.* \"Good evening, Your Excellency. I trust you are finding Thunder Fest enjoyable thus far?\" *His voice was deep and even, steady like a cello's rhythm, and though the words were proper, the brown eyes of the half-elf set firmly on the face of the dragonborn in an evaluative stare.*"
},
{
"author": "Umras Kilfras, Chieftain of Dasvaz",
"message": "*Truth be told, Umras didn't give himself the title. He didn't quite care about it, but it did have the potential to hurt his reputation amongst fellow royals. As he stood, he chose to wear his titles like a badge of honor. It was better to be proud of being a slave, no? Proud to stand as the Chieftain when only a few years ago every movement you made was followed by the rough clank of iron chains. No. He was proud to be Chieftain, and proud to have once been a slave. His audience in Dasvaz was made up entirely of the misfits, rejects, and slaves. He wasn't going to lose them by pandering to the audience who only wanted him dead. He liked to think that he knew how to play the game of leadership. But as Astalios approached him, he felt a twinge of terror. His eyes darted around the room to look out for Alyus or Calanthe, knowing that a meeting with the Iron Prince could damage their reputation. But the prince only came forward, and he had to stay strong.*\n\n*Standing over the prince at his startling height of seven feet, Umras smiled warmly as the prince approached, offering his scaled hand out towards him in a cordial manner. His voice was rough and low, similar to the dull scrape of a sword against the grind-stone. He was far from the regal manner expected from other royals, though he knew that much wasn't expected from him. To arrive at all was a blessing to most. Seeing a Chieftain at a ball was... Fresh.* \"As much as I can. We don't have these kind of festivals in Dasvaz, but I'm considering adopting one. Maybe something to honor Guttrak.\" *He shrugged, chuckling softly.* \"I pray you've found the festival enjoyable as well, Iron Prince?\" *He nodded slightly, terror hiding softly in his voice. It wasn't entirely noticeable, but it was ever-so present. He was scared. Scared to give off the wrong impression. But he continued speaking, knowing that Alynthi was the most powerful ally he could gain.*"
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*He was large, that was certain, but so were all dragonborn - and orcs, for that matter. It didn't make them any tougher in the face of an arrow or a warhammer, much less a ballista bolt or a flood of mercury that washed them away. How well they deployed their resources was the real test of competence, he thought to himself. And this dragonborn had enemies everywhere, yet was hanging on quite well for the moment. Time would tell whether this held for the future.\n\nHe nodded back, just as cordially, and shook the larger hand of the dragonborn with his own, which was dwarfed by the grip of the scaly chieftain. Regardless, it was a firm shake, and Astalios was utterly unafraid of the situation he was in. Perhaps the best way to examine the mettle of the person he was meeting, he thought to himself, was to review each of his statements like a scientific paper. Acumen in names meant it was likely his words could tell Astalios more about who the man was.\n\n'Enjoying as much as he could' was an obvious reference - the man was beset by enemies. Perhaps this festival was a chance to show he was unmolested by issues such as rebellions, and that he did not intend to let them stop his normal routine. That was confident, though his large guard complement and awkward disposition initially meant he was certainly unfamiliar with the setting - as he should have been, considering he had been a slave.\n\n'Something to honor Guttrak'. That was a jab in its own right - that Dazvaz had been given its independence was a sticky subject for the dragonborn of Dazvaz, as the orcs had enslaved them shortly afterwards, and many of them had considered it an insult to Guttrak's memory. But perhaps it was more symbolic - that this dragonborn intended to follow in his footsteps. That was an interesting prospect for Alynthi especially, considering his length of experience in fighting on the Dazvaz border. Perhaps that calm would continue.*\n\n_ _\n*Curious indeed. An idea for a statue was already forming in the prince's mind, but there had to be more than single sentence for him to really capture the likeness of Umras. For now, he simply examined the dragonborn like a bug under a microscope, seeking to explore every detail of what he was dealing with as his muddy brown orbs searched the dragonborn's face, almost as if he could see past them into his mind.*\n\n\"You have the power to enact whatever festivals you so wish. Generally, a good festival is marked by a deeply held ceremony, in combination with a cause that brings a group together. This one is celebrating light.\" *His tone was even and practiced, but he wondered internally if he might bring down more warbands upon his head should he enact a festival celebrating a warrior that had humiliated them. \n\nOr perhaps not. The orcish psyche valued strength. Perhaps they too respected the prowess of warriors like Guttrak, regardless of his cause.*\n\n\"I can say I am enjoying the architecture of the palace, though I have already recommended King Zarreus cut back the forest at least a mile from the walls. Slipping close to the castle is much easier with visual cover.\" *He stated briefly, his mind on practicality first and foremost.* \"Your archers need a clean field of vision to better repel besieging armies.\""
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "Finally arriving from the nearby kingdom of Thyseer, Princess Delsandra Qinrel made her appearance within Findara's castle. The heralds at the door sung once more as they swung the entrance open, and dressed in a lavish dress of blue and gold Delsandra stood. \n\n*\"Her royal highness, Princess Delsandra Qinrel of Thyseer.\"*\n\nDipping her head for only a second to the heralds, Delsandra returned her gaze to the ballroom ahead of her. A circlet adorned her head along with a matching necklace around her neck. Her regality likely had no match, at least in her own mind. With her chin held high, the princess glanced around at those below her, literally and figuratively. Dancing her blazing eyes around each guest, there were a handful she recognized and a handful she didn't, though most she did seem to know were only through paintings and stories. Her eyes settled on the prince of Alynthi, though his armor caused a gentle huff of air to leave Delsandra's nostrils. What was it with men and seeming powerful or strong? Then her eyes slid over to the prince of Khisfire. Oh how regal the Khisfirans dressed themselves...\n\n_ _\nFinally, Delsandra's eyes rested on a figure she did *Not* Seem to recognize; a dragonborn by the looks of it. A slight sneer appeared on her face but only for a split second before molding back into her expression of regality. Finally, she made her way closer to the main floor of the ballroom, her dress flowing well with her body, almost making it seem as though she were floating in the air. The eladrin seemed rather disinterested in speaking with anyone for the moment, and instead opted to call over a servant for a glass of wine. Clasping it in her delicate hands, Delsandra stood in front of one of the many decorative banners along the walls of the ballroom, rather than pursuing a conversation. While her mother nor her father would be attending the Thunder Festival, Delsandra wouldn't miss a chance to show off her own beauty and represent her kingdom.\n\nEyeing the conversation between the dragonborn and Prince Dilitrios, Delsandra grew more and more curious of just who the lizard man was. She knew the shapeshifters bears and drow ruled the north, the sun elves ruled the south and triton ruled the seas- perhaps he was a representative of some kind? It was the armor that left Delsandra the most stumped. Maybe her assumption of nobility were far too kind..."
},
{
"author": "Umras Kilfras, Chieftain of Dasvaz",
"message": "*Umras' face was a twisted mess of scars and blue twinges resting on his pearly white skin. Beneath his snarled demeanor were kind eyes and an expressive smile, his draconic snout offering a slight chuckle in response to Astalios.* \"Certainly some deeply held beliefs about Guttrak. Might as well be the patron saint for us Dragonborn. Like you and Alynthi.\" *He smiled, his warped claws gripping a small, glass cup. He wasn't sure what the liquid was, but he shrugged it off, taking a sip anyway. He imagined Vikra screaming at him for not checking if the drink was poisoned first. He loved that little Kobold. Always worried about someone else. She'll make a great guildmaster. Crashing back down to reality, he sighed softly at Astalios' response. The immediate turn into war was a little disheartening, but Umras appreciated it. He didn't want to have to bring up the topic himself. He was terrified of doing so, really. Casting the wrong impression to Astalios was his greatest fear. He saw a wonderful ally in him, and needed to present the best version of himself.*\n\n\"I hope I'm not too forward, but I'd like to offer my sincere apologies.\" *He spoke, his voice inflected with a twinge of sadness.* \"Know that any breaches into Alynthian territory from Dasvaz have not been ordered by me. My warband has been working every day to insure that the border between our two nations is heavily secured. My control doesn't extend to every warband in Dasvaz, and some have acted on their own volition to attack Alynthi. I've been trying to offer compensation to those affected, but I'll offer my apologies anyway.\" *He sighed, bowing to the prince as best he could. He really was deeply ashamed about the incursions into Alynthian territory. He had killed hundreds of war-hungry Orcs by his own hand in an attempt to quell the invasions, but he knew better than anyone that he couldn't control them. At least, not yet. The only tool he had was the warband at his disposal and the fear he could pot\n\nEntially command.* \"I know that our nations have had troubled relations in the past. I'd like to change that, if I could. I see strength in you, Prince Astalios. You command my respect.\"\n\n*His eyes quickly broke over as the heralds announced the Princess of Thyseer. Another he'd have to speak to. This ball was a political opportunity for Umras, and he only wanted to smooth over the poor relationships his nation held with the kingdoms around him. Of course, he'd likely lose Gantrick and Lazaroth in the process, but it was a necessary consequence. He refused to ally himself with slaving kingdoms. The practice of slavery deeply troubled him, and the thought that it continued under his reign was terrifying. He'd have to enact the protocols he had planned out when he returned to Dasvaz. He'd have to talk to Vikra again. He needed her. He was always reliant on the kobold, wasn't he? Her fault for being a reliable person, he guessed. Turning back to Astalios, he shrugged softly, almost chuckling.* \"You think we're a little over-dressed?\" *He joked nervously, taking a final sip of his drink.*"
},
{
"author": "Prince Hannibal Samir",
"message": "The prince looked around the ball room before stuffing his face with more food and drinks form the servants. One would assume he was a pleb with the ill manner he was scoffing down food. Eventually he heard some guy with the title of 'the slave', all that went through his mind is 'what'. As the prince then saw the lizard-folk get approached by the Prince of Alynthi, all that went through his mind is 'who the hell is that guy? Why not me I need some royal friends.' \n\nBut never the less he went back to stuffing his mouth with caviar, only someone else of importance to be called in. After hearing Thyseer called his head spun, he hadn't met someone from Thyseer before, and if he recalled it was one of the more neutral kingdoms like Khisfire, so the hope of making a friend was in his mind. When he saw the Princess step down he started thinking of lines he could use to spark a conversation. When he notice the princess gaze fall upon him he shuddered, and grabbed another glass. Yet his eyes remained on the princess, and seeing the quick sneer another shudder went down his spin. Hannibal started to think something is wrong with that girl. \n\nWhen he turned from grabbing snacks once more, he saw the princess staring off at the dragonborn and Prince Dilitrios. Thinking about who this dragonborn was and what was the interest in him by every person of royalty he has seen so far. Being on his third drink he had mustered some courage to go and approach someone of similar status. Only to spin on one heel and go for a fourth drink, while still going over lines in his head to make great first impressions."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*His face - scarred and blue painted, but not unkind, and much unlike that of the orcs he had slain in battle. But he was a terrible flatterer - and Astalios was not fond of flattery. To call him a patron saint was a bit much, in his mind, and he wondered what the angle Umras could be playing was. He had seemed genuine enough, and perhaps it was just a joke, but there was a certain threshold needed to be called a patron saint that the prince certainly had not attained. Perhaps he had done well on campaign, but that was nothing compared to a victory in a war. And many wars' worth of victory was needed to declare someone on the level of Guttrak.\n\n'Deeply held beliefs' were both positive and negative, he supposed. There must have been a massive two-way swing of opinion in Dazvaz... Though opinion there was more likely shown at the edge of a battleaxe than a political discussion held in council chambers. He was sure that Umras had more than enough experience with the edges of said battleaxes.*\n\n\"You flatter me.\" *It was a strict, unamused tone that issued from his mouth as he fixed the dragonborn with a stern glare. There were enough liars in the world as it was, and to call him a saint was... Well, insulting the saints.\n\nHowever, as the dragonborn began to speak again, he pieced together a few details about his situation - one, that he did not have complete control over Dazvaz, which seemed to be worse than just a simple rebellion or two. There was also the possibility that he would feign his lack of control in order to excuse the incursions into Alynthi that kept the orcs sated. Lately, they had stopped, but this could have been a preliminary statement to keep him from suspecting anything if they began again.\n\nBut friendship, that was a new prospect. The apologies he offered, the sigh that issued from his mouth - all of it seemed genuine enough. Dazvaz and Alynthi had not had good relations in quite some time.*\n\n_ _\n*It was paired with more flattery, he suspected - but there was a fine line between flattery and a show of respect, and here he could not tell the difference.* \n\n\"I see. If the garrisons I have stationed on the border do not prove to be enough, I may have to return to Dazvaz.\" *He stated calmly, knowing each word carried the weight of a very real and very substantial threat for the warbands that desired to raid his kingdom. If they were not brought to heel, he might have justification enough to lead a punitive campaign into Dazvaz and take his revenge. With that laid out on the table.* \"I wish you luck in your endeavor there.\" \n\n*The message he hoped to send, however, was that should he accomplish a secure border, with no raids occurring for some time, his words would seem more trustworthy, whether or not they actually were. Umras, in his opinion, was speaking well, but the true test was action.* \"On the subject of being underdressed, Your Excellency, there are ways to rectify that issue.\" \n\n*Astalios breathed in and out, closing his eyes briefly and recalling the exact mixture he had in mind. Copper, tin, gold... And the percentages of each, where had he written them down...? Ah, yes. Palate number thirty-eight. There. His eyes snapped open once again as he remembered the mixture and set to work.\n\nThe steel armor around Umras's body began to morph and twist - the newly minted plates, plain iron and castle-forged, though with strange wrinkles and seams that made him think that the smith who forged it was perhaps a talented novice, began to meld into different shades of metal. The lining of his pauldrons and the seams of his armor shifted into first a bright yellow gold, then a deep reddish as Astalios melded it with copper, using his transmutation ability as best he could - and then finally, settling into a sunset orange, an alloy that shone like the real color. The armor seemed much more fitting for a chieftain of Dazvaz, he thought to himself.*\n\n_ _\n*Small etchings began to appear like scribes had been scratching them out with pens, adding gold inlay and darkening the shade of the steel more towards its black iron roots, to leave it at more of a stormcloud gray that blended well with the orange shade of the accents to give a dusky blend to the color palate at hand. The small etchings worked themselves into the pattern of flames against the dark gray of his plate, a homage to his heritage as a dragonborn, and those seams straightened themselves out to leave him with a higher quality set of armor than he had begun with.\n\nOf course... This was a benevolent use of such power, Astalios knew, and by the same token, he could have turned the chieftain's armor to mercury and flooded him in poisonous quicksilver or crushed him in the iron that he wore. \n\nBut it was nice to have friends.*\n\n\"I believe this may suit you better, Your Excellency.\" *He stated, eyeing his handiwork with the appraisal of an artist, though he tended to hide the fact that he sculpted in his free time. It did not suit the image of the stoic warrior.*"
},
{
"author": "Umras Kilfras, Chieftain of Dasvaz",
"message": "*Umras nodded softly, accompanying the movement with an awkward chuckle.* \"I didn't intend to flatter you, Iron Prince. Only to give you the respect you deserve. I know some still consider you a lowly prince, but know I look at you as a king.\" *He smiled slightly, shaking his head. Respect was something the prince certainly deserved. Kragbal had told him before he had departed, 'Hold those who once looked to you as your enemy in close regard, as they will soon become your allies.' Umras intended to make that an infinite truth. He knew Alyus, wherever he was, was likely staring towards the Dragonborn, watching as he spoke with Astalios. Planting the corrupted seeds of doubt and distrust. He was right to not trust Umras. Umras refused to ally himself with a slaver. Not anymore. Dasvaz was a nation built on the back of slaves and their might, and it was to return to that glory. The glory casted by Guttrak. That same glory would one day touch Dasvaz again, brought on by Umras. The Slave. The Meek. The Weak. Nay. The Strong.*\n\n*He watched in terror and amazement as his armor changed and molded itself, fitting the colors brought to Dasvaz under the banner of Umras. His eyes showed pure astonishment, and a cheshire grin grew on his face. It was truly well done. He had heard of the prince's powers, but a direct show of them at a ball was something he hadn't expected. It was risky, and Astalios knew it. But it was appreciated. A show of mutual respect between the two. He knew right then and there that he would find an ally in Astalios. Thank Guttrak. Quickly, he laughed heartily, slamming his scaled arm on Astalios' pauldron.* \"Amazing work, Iron Prince!\" *He exclaimed, still staring down at the plate transformed to fit the colors his banner waved so proudly.* \"I can't thank you enough. Truth be told, I'm not accustomed to wearing this type of armor. I was worried about making the wrong impression, so I had a set crafted. It's been an uncomfortable night, but you've made\n\nMe proud to wear it. Thank you.\"\n\n*His eyes grew heavy as his hand removed itself from Astalios' shoulder. A subtle sigh left his throat as he spoke. It was clear to Astalios that he was speaking directly from the heart. Almost nervously, in a way. But all of his movements seemed nervous.* \"I don't want to bring down the mood of the evening, but as you likely know, I only attended for political reasons.\" *He quickly cleared his throat, standing as tall as he could. He wanted to show Astalios that he was strong. Stronger than most expected him to be.* \"I want to forge an alliance between Dasvaz and Alynthi. I know our nations have had our disagreements in the past, and I know you yourself have led expeditions into my lands. I assure you, the Dasvaz you once knew is nothing like the Dasvaz I intend on building. I am going to make major reforms, and I can't even begin to attempt them without the aid of the strongest neighboring territory. I know this is forward, but I truly hope I can count on your support in the future.\"\n\n*Quietly, Umras breathed a sigh of relief, glad to finally get the words off his chest. Quickly, he shot a gaze back over towards Delsandra. He noticed her staring. With a smile, he offered a slight wave, before turning back to Astalios. He needed to cordial with everyone he intended on making an alliance with. That much was obvious.* \"I'm forging a new nation, Astalios. One that Guttrak would be proud of. I've managed to hold onto my rule as best I can, but I know that hundreds of warbands will rise against me soon enough. I know that I can best them on my own, but I want to avoid needless bloodshed. Your support guarantees that.\""
}
] | 559.5 | 7,052 |
537.2 | 2022-07-16 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"I thank you for the compliment, but I am a servant of my father's kingdom, Chieftain.\" *Astalios's tone was somewhat sharp, as if he had been threatened with a dagger. His father's rule was a subject that he intended to keep out of the gutter, and placing himself with the honor of being king... It felt too early. And much of his heart feared the desired that lay within, the seed deep inside his mind that urged him towards destruction, that told him to kill until he could kill no more, to leave Alynthi to carnage if it meant war would come.\n\nHe could not be king just yet. It would be worse for the kingdom.* \"I do not intend to usurp the honor of king. His rule has been prosperous for Alynthi as a whole, and I cannot say whether I shall compare in the future. It is my most fervent hope that I can be half the king my father happens to be.\"\n\n*At least the armor had been well-received. There was a true wonder to the eyes of the dragonborn as he observed the change in the armor he wore, the style changing from a generic and shoddily made suit that might have held up under pitched battle and might have failed to a fashion statement, as well as a much improved product. Smooth steel, layered properly - or at least, it would be steel again when the ball was over. Outside of politics, golden or orange armor was a terrible hindrance, as it was not only weaker than steel, but much more distinctive.*\n\n\"If you were worried about making the wrong impression, Chieftain, you might have worn a tunic or some other finery, like Prince Samir of Khisfire is doing at the moment.\" *He nodded over to Hannibal, in his cloak and various silks.* \"And I can hardly believe that the night has been so uncomfortable when we have hardly been speaking for a few moments. The night is long, and this is barely considered the start of it. The dances have not yet begun.\"\n\n_ _\n*Umras waved to another noble - Delsandra. He hadn't met the princess of Thyseer for too long at once, but it seemed she was a devout person, caring for the fire god's rituals. She was an elf of some beauty, but the same could be said of most elves, Caleesi being the prime example. His grand Mistress of Magic was as alluring in form as any. The trick with elves was to discern what sort of person they really were - appearances were always in top shape, but what lay beneath could be ugly as any hag of the night. Though he hadn't intended to acknowledge that she was staring, he gave a polite nod as Umras did so as not to be rude, though he did wish that the chieftain hadn't drawn so much attention.\n\nBut what came next blew him away. His eyebrows raised in skepticism as Umras detailed the plans he was setting in motion for the future. To simply ask here and now in the middle of a crowded ballroom - it forced the hand of everyone present, made certain that his response would be recorded. He had to find a way to redirect, and though Umras's plans seemed too good to be true... They could not be accepted here. Not now, with the entire ballroom privy to the plans. It was with pity that Astalios looked back at the chieftain, unsure of how much he knew about what he had just done to himself.*\n\n\"I will have to consult with the king of this possibility. I cannot answer you now. As you say... There is not much good history between us. And please, Your Excellency, refer to me as 'Your Highness'. We have barely been talking for a few brief moments.\" *The harsh staccato of his words clashed with Umras's hopes, but as he turned to take a sip of his wine cup, patterns began to rearrange themselves on Astalios's gauntlet, forming letters one after the other in a quick message as he drank.\n\nS - P - I - E - S E - V - E - R - Y - W - H - E - R - E H - O - L - D - T - O - N - G - U - E F - O - O - L.*"
},
{
"author": "Prince Hannibal Samir",
"message": "Hannibal downing yet another glass putting him on his sixth in his hands. Now deciding he has confidence to confront people that are high up, the Prince starts to walk over to the Princess of Thyseer. He makes sure to approach at a reasonable pace his clock just dragging along the ground, and the odd clink of gold as he walked. The glass with the red liquid in it spinned and twirled as he walked. The Prince then appeared next to the Princess Qinrel leaving a foot or so between them.\n\n\"What brings the Princess of Thyseer here?\"\n\nWaiting a second or two after speaking the prince would turn his head to look at the Princess, admiring the fair skin and the outfit now at a closer distance. Finding the gold and blue a great choice especially for thunder fest. Then he remembered their is something off with this 'fair lady'. The sneer at an extravagant event like this is unheard of for him, and it is down right impolite for when you walk in to look disgusted. \n\nThe Prince then took a sip from his glass finally taking his time and savouring the taste. It was refined and rich, but he still did not see this as something he would drink back home, so that idea was crossed off the list."
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "Feeling a presence approach her, Delsandra averted her eyes from the discussion between the Iron Prince and dragonborn to instead settle her eyes on a sun kissed elf; the prince of Khisfire. Eyeing him curiously, the princess let out a gentle sigh before turning her eyes away once more to answer Prince Samir. \"I myself have never seen King Zarreus's fireworks. I simply had to see them in person, rather through tale or painting.\" Darting her eyes to meet the prince's, her own were set ablaze as if a flame danced within them. A faint smile sat beautifully across the fair eladrin's face, though her eyes seemed to tell a different story, one of curiosity. Almost a *Surgical* Curiosity, as if she were dissecting the prince's ever word and movement the moment he made one.\n\n\"What about you, your highness? Feeling festive?\" Before she could give any intentions or insight away with nothing more than a gaze, she finally pulled the flames within her eyes away from Hannibal, and back onto Astalios and the dragonborn. Many women, when not expressing any emotion may have looked irritated or even bored, but not Delsandra. Her resting face was one of constant inquiry, but ever with a very faint smile. Yes, it was creepy enough to those who didn't know. Well, perhaps it was creepy to those who knew her too... Nevertheless, on she stared, ever wondering what the two could be talking about, and just who the lizard man was exactly. Deciding not to wait any longer to find out, she tilted her head toward the dragonborn.\n\n\"Is he a noble of some kind, Prince Samir? I don't believe I know his name, nor where he's from or who he is.\" Eyeing the band of... *Vagabonds* With the dragonborn, it was obvious he was a stranger, perhaps even a foreigner. Was he... *From Dasvaz?* Oh how fun this night would be if that were the case-"
},
{
"author": "Prince Hannibal Samir",
"message": "Watching her eyes dart to meet his it added a hint of fear to them, yet adored the orange. The prince thought about the response and realised unless he was close that is the answer everyone would give. The half elf looked away after being probed by the Princess's eyes. Hannibal felt as so he had nothing to hide when looking at the eladrin elf. Then hearing the question he took it right away, and seeing that he hasn't seen the event before he'd thought he be honest.\n\n\"I myself have not seen Findara's great fireworks. I simply had to see them, for myself.\" After feeling the gaze disappear he turned his head once more for a quick moment and realised her interest was back at the 'The Slave' dragonborn and Iron Prince. He let out a slight sigh, as this is nothing like the parties he threw back in Khisfire. No one was higher of class than him and came up to him praising him. But here, here Hannibal was not the highest and people were not flocking to praise him. The prince turned his attention to the dragonborn, after getting asked about him or at least the Prince assumed it was about Umaras.\n\n\"That is, 'His Excellency, Chieftain Umras Kilfras of Dasvaz, The Weak, The Meek, The Slave'.\" The longer the title went on the more monotone and pauses were made. \"I am assuming he has recently taken power from the tribes of Dasvaz. Given the title he has and his seeming positive attitude towards Astalios.\""
},
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "The old rusted *Creeaakk* Bellowed from the mighty double doors of the Findara ballroom castle, giving way to heralds as they swiftly moved towards the entrance in respect for their new guest before allowing their voices to ring into the air like a trumpet, sounding off. \n\n``` \"High Lady Caleesi Scarleth of Alynthi, Grand Mistress of Magic.\" ```\n\nSoon to follow suit to her arrival, Caleesi Scarleth emerged from the darkened hall and into the gentle candle light of the ballroom like an angel from caelum. This golden-haired mistress walked with a very strong stride that held poise and elegance. Donning a creamy white silk slip dress that undoubtedly kissed every curve on the high elf's body, cutting directly at the hip with an open back to match- The shimmering fabric seemingly hovered above her skin rather than clinging to it. With her piercing blue eyes scanning the forefront of the grand showground, any signs of her nervousness from the other night had simply vanished. *Perhaps that little bird had helped her more than Cali realized.* Nevertheless, the Grand-master made her descend down the wide set of stairs with her head held high, along with her arms neatly clasped together in front of her. Stepping rather rhythmically to the faint tempo from the nearby band, Caleesi's beautifully pale legs swayed with each click of her glass heels. \n\nShe may have been no princess, but she surely looked the part. \n_ _\n\nNo jewelry hung from the sorceress's neck, nor from her wrists. As the thought of anything restricting her caused too much of a nuisance. Instead, the curve of her sharp collar bones sat on display just above the dip in her satin dress, making for a far more interesting eye candy than a simple rock or two. Once Caleesi's feet breached the bottom of the stairs, waiters could be seen flocking to her side with trays of assorted treats and wines. Though, the high elf respectfully waved them along with the motion of a calm hand. Those glossed peach lips spreading sweetly into a graceful smile. Being surrounded by walks of all types of royals made it hard to want to eat anything, and truth be told, Caleesi didn't know half of these gowns or plated armors and suits. Her gaze went straight for the scenery around her however, as there was so much to take in and admire. This was the High Lady's first time within the castle of Findara, and while the outside seemed just as magical... This ballroom proved to be enchanted. Caleesi tilted her head up above to gaze upon the ceiling murals, as well as the beautiful golden statues that held the nosebleed section of guests mingling about. The traces of gold and deep blue collided so well under the subtle hues of yellow candle light... All of which put stars in Cali's eyes. \n_ _\n\nAlthough, it didn't take her long to push her focus inward to the crowd of bodies lingering about on the dance floor. Scarleth danced her wandering gaze to each head slowly, studying each feature that stood out to her. Meeting the back of a yellow and blue dress, the sorceress raised a brow when she trailed her eyes up to the crown sitting upon an elven head. *That must have been the princess*. Caleesi had skimmed through the many guesses as to who the woman was, but she couldn't be too certain. It had been years since she attended royal meetings, and her history on who was representing each kingdom other than her own seemed to be a little rusty. That dreading thought of not knowing however, certainly nipped at her ears. Nevertheless, Cali continued on observing new faces. Hoping to find one she'd soon recognize..."
}
] | 423 | 2,686 |
718.666667 | 2022-07-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*Astalios's worries about the lack of subtlety shown by the chieftain were deep indeed. Even showing a hidden message to him could lead to disaster if the man decided to speak aloud about it. He wondered how the man became chieftain if he did not remember the importance of keeping his back covered and mouth shut in case of spying - but then again, the chieftaincy of Dazvaz was not a political position, he supposed. It was won by blood and combat, by killing the previous chieftain and imposing your rule. \n\nAs far as this chieftain's succession, it seemed he had done the first, but not quite the second, if he needed allies to control his own territory. Though it seemed he had a noble goal, which was a new experience for the Iron Prince, there was a long way to go before he could be considered a conscious leader of the country, and versed in cutthroat politics. \n\nOf course, Astalios's own education in that particular area was lacking. He did not know much what to say, but at least he knew what to hold back - thinking of it in battlefield terms, revealing your strategy to your opponent was never a good move if you wanted a clean victory. Every statement in a ballroom was like a series of orders and troop repositioning - arranging the pieces on the board to give the best possible advantage should the other make a move. \n\nOn that count, Umras lacked, and Astalios worried. But as another noblewoman was announced, the gears in his mind clicked into motion - his own Grand Mistress of Magic was sure to be seen as more of a usual conversational partner, while Umras was a strange one - and if he left quickly after the armor was changed, it could still be construed as a threat in the minds of watchers. \n\nAs the elf stepped in, his gaze left the dragonborn in front of him to trace its way along the room and towards the ballroom doors as the Grand-Mistress made her entrance. She seemed star-struck, the gems and decorations reflecting a shine into her eyes.*\n\n_ _\n*Good. That made the premise of the excuse a great deal more believable in the eyes of the public, as if he was guiding a minister of his towards their destination instead of fraternizing with an enemy. As he studied her slightly more, eyes catching details in the shape of her face and magic washing over her to reveal no metal on her at all, her name and her face came into harmony as he reconciled the new Caleesi Scarleth with the old, the studious girl he had attended a few functions and seen around. Blonde hair, an angular face... But it was similar enough to be truthful, the same features matured into adulthood.\n\nPerhaps they both had changed beyond instant recognition. He was no longer a smiling boy of some energy, but a grim commander of battle-tested armies, campaigning for half his life, nearing thirty. He had become a man in the field, and she had become a woman at home, now the High Lady, a noblewoman whose family had died unfortunately, and whose husband had followed her.\n\nTime had its hands in everything.\n\nIt had to be done quickly. Astalios lowered his cup from his mouth, his eyes returning to Umras, and gave a sharp nod and a stern glare, as if he were being short with the man, and let loose a clipped sentence.* \"Excuse me. Enjoy the party.\" \n\n*His stride away was quick and purposeful, no effort wasted, every movement with power. But as he turned, letters flashed in raised patterns on his armor, the metal rippling into rapid-fire impressions of the same signals he had used to warn Umras of his misstep. They trailed from his gauntlet up his bracers, to his pauldrons, and finally, to write across his back in the points nearest Umras, one letter after the other, a few words of advice.\n\nM - O - U - T - H S - H - U - T G - O - O - D L - U - C - K.\n\nIt was a gesture of good will, he hoped, that would be received well by Umras as he made his way away from the Dragonborn, and towards the elf that had provided his chance at escape.*\n\n_ _\n*As Astalios's steps carried him further towards Caleesi, he found himself hoping that the dragonborn knew he wished him no ill will, but wondering what the grand Mistress thought of the ballroom. It seemed to be catching her attention, which was at least a way to start a conversation. He strode towards her purposefully stopped before her, and gave a small nod of the head.\n\nHe wondered if she remembered the boy he had been, and whether that colored her idea of him now.*\n\n\"Grand Mistress.\" *He greeted her, unsmiling as per usual, but speaking with respect to a member of his father's council. One had to treat officials well for them to remain loyal.* \"Welcome to the ball. I trust you are enjoying the architecture of Findara Castle?\" *Again, the thought nagged at him that the forest was too close to the walls - that with a siege imminent, it could be exploited, but he batted it away like a fly on a horse's back.*"
},
{
"author": "Umras Kilfras, Chieftain of Dasvaz",
"message": "*Umras stood in mock terror, his eyes immediately glazing over. OH MY FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD. Subtlety was absolutely not his strong-suit. He wasn't even entirely sure why he had just blurted his proposal out. Perhaps it was the immense anxiety he felt even arriving in Findara, let alone speaking to his only potential ally. King Zarreus wasn't likely to give him an audience at all. Astalios was his only prospect, and he had just turned the situation upside down. Great job, Umras. What would Guttrak think? On second thought, probably not a very apt example. Guttrak wouldn't even consider diplomacy an option. He'd just burst into the ball-room screaming at the top of his lungs about something relating to war. The image brought slight comfort to Umras, who shot a dazed chuckle at the imaginary sight of Guttrak slamming through the doors to slaughter the guests. The thought of the heads of his enemies rolling on the floor brought a slightly morbid comfort to Umras. Death to the slavers, after all. Literal slavers and figurative ones. *\n\n\"O-o-of course, your highness. I didn't intend on coming off as-\" *Umras cut himself off, raising his scaled hand in an awkward attempt at explaining himself. He tried his hardest, but words just simply didn't seem to leave his snout. Dear gods, what would Vikra think? Staring at him and laughing from the floor. He looked a bumbling fool to all who could over-hear the conversation. He cast a quick glance around at the room, taking notice of those staring. Royals from across the realm. Fuck. To say that Umras was anxious was an under-statement. A pit grew in his draconic throat, removed with a solemn and silent gulp. He closed his eyes for a minute, searching deep within himself for something. Some kind of motivation to help him carry on. He needed it. He needed a way to save this. In the black void of his mind, a familiar face appeared. The visage of Umrak only offered a small smile, but it was enough. Ripping his eyes open, Umras grinned widely, nodding with a heavy smirk.*\n\n\"Of course, Iron Prince. You have business to attend to.\" *He nodded, allowing the man to turn and walk away. Quickly, his booming voice echoed across the ball-room, contained enough so that his words couldn't be heard by everyone. It was loud, but friendly. Umras painted himself a braggart, creating a false history of their conversation.* \"You'll have to tell me more of your war stories in the future, your highness. The tale of your assault on Kodzur was told with the grace of a true storyteller. Walk well, Iron Prince!\" *Umras raised his glass towards the man as he left, flashing a wide grin across his mouth. He was Umras, Chieftain of Dasvaz. He was not a bumbling fool. He was a straight to the point man with confidence and strength. He didn't dance, he forged alliances. That was strength. That was bravery. But for now, Umras only swallowed his pride along with his drink, sighing in slight relief. Thank the gods that was over and done with.*"
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "\"Ah, so my suspicions prove correct.\" Before Delsandra could say much else, another figure arrived to the ball. Casting her eyes toward the small but regal-looking elven woman, it was a face the princess did recognize more than most others, the title only solidifying her thoughts. With a gentle sigh, the princess of Thyseer simply watched as greetings were had and discussions were ended. A part of her wished to approach the Alynthi nobility present and greet them, but for now she'd enjoy the company of Prince Samir. \"It all seems very strange. This new chieftain must have some sort of agenda with attending Thunder Fest. All past chieftains I've come to know have been warmongers and murderers.\" With an exhale, the princess took in a drink of her wine before turning to look at Hannibal. \"It seems obvious to me this new chieftain, this *Umras* Is searching for peace of some sort.\"\n\n*\"I've never known peace to need an army of warriors at his back, however.\"* Eyeing the amount of warrior Umras had brought with him, the princess sighed and shook her head gently. If the dragonborn chief truly had come with intentions of peace, he'd not need such a guard accompanying him. Those titles, 'The Weak' were a facade it seemed. At least that's what Delsandra believed. With a bored expression now plastered across her face, the eladrin instead turned her attention back to her company. \"How are things in Khisfire? I know your kingdom and mine rarely ever involve themselves with one another, but still- are things well within your deserts?\""
},
{
"author": "Prince Hannibal Samir",
"message": "Having heard another noble called he ofcourse turned his head to look at who it was with the princess. While paying no attention to the words called. The prince his gaze setting upon the blonde elf, it was not the looks nor the dress that caught his eye, but it was the lack of accessories. No gold or gems on this elf, just confused him greatly. The young Prince then turned back to Umras and the iron prince, only to witness the dragonborn being left alone. Hannibal then assumed the talks of peace weren't as successful as the chieftain hoped. \"Looks like his peace talks failed.\"\n\nThe prince listened to the opinion of the eladrin princess, zoning out halfway through as he was not a man of politics. But yet he nodded along to what Delsandra said. The prince the noticed the bored expression and question so decided to speak some grand events and points of interest to him. \n\n\"Well... To my knowledge my parents are still on the agenda of routing out crime, and grasping for redemption to repair relations with the two big kingdoms.\" His voice held a slight distain towards the idea of uprooting crime. \"And I believe someone in the court suggested removing slavery and it is being taken as an actual recommendation. Apart from that..\" The prince had to paste for a moment to think if there was anything else that may be of interest of have the chance to gain a positive relation in Thyseer. \"To my knowledge there was some of that fea wild magic stuff appeared in khisfire a while back.\" The prince avoided making eye contact at the last statement as it is something that hits close to home and gave a small pasue before continuing to talk.\n\n\"Enough about 'some grains of sand'. Anything of interest I would not hear about in your kingdom?\""
},
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "With the background chatter sounding like nothing much than a gentle roar to most common folk within the ballroom, Caleesi had a hard time focusing given she could hear *Everything*. From the sounds of waiters refiling golden chalices feet away, to the clear pronunciation of lesser nobles whispering names of who'd they'd like to bed after the fireworks were over. Each conversation packing their way into the grandmistress's ears more harsher the more she fixated on them. By no means was the high elf an eavesdropper- however, it was hard to try and settle her senses with a massive crowd around her. Cali tried to keep her outward appearance as courtly refined as possible. Making sure to not twitch against the sometimes heavy pressure clamoring on her eardrums. It was definitely times like these where Scarleth cursed the gods for her unholy vampirism. \n\nNevertheless, Caleesi carried on as normal, her head strongly held on her shoulders. Even though the sorceress had no where she was going in particular, the sudden boom of a strong voice caused the woman to turn on her heels completely. Now facing the small crowd of royals, Cali's eyes immediately locked onto the staggering figure of a dragonborn. Her brows rose unknowingly in a rather confused and apprehensive nature while she watched him call out to a man walking away from him. But before she could catch her cyanic hues up to the footfalls approaching her way, Caleesi couldn't help but stare in curiosity at whoever that peculiar creature was. \n_ _\n\nWhen a new voice presented itself to the high elf however, Caleesi's mind clung to the low, sonorous sound of how each word fell from the males lips. Turning her thoughtful gaze to meet him, the young woman's eyes widened with not only surprise but also haste to mind her manners. \"Your Highness-\" Addressed Scarleth, her tone holding hints of apologies for not recognizing him sooner. With the dip of her head, Caleesi poured herself over respectfully to her prince. Bending politely at the knees in an elegant curtsy. \"Forgive me for my late arrival, my prince. I hope I was not missing out on much...\" Once she rose, Cali gave a genuine smile that reached her eyes. Part of her was completely taken aback at just how *Different* Astalios looked. Skimming her eyes over the defining features of his face, the elf's softened expression melted into the familiarity of an old friend, though still kept their formality first and foremost. \n\nHe seemed far more cultivated and well lived in his skin then she had ever imagined him to be. Though, perhaps that's what time does to those in positions of responsibility. \"I am, thank you very much for allowing me to be here tonight. It's been years since i've been in a place like this, so perhaps you'll have to get me re-accustomed to all the glitz and glamour.\" Caleesi's playful voice lightly teased towards the faint memory of that once lively prince running around his own ballroom- far too eager to talk to his people and put on a show. Regardless of if Astalios remembered such things, her words still rang true; as she was not all too familiar to what it was like to be regal like this again. Nevertheless, the gradmistress shifted her sights over towards the dragonborn once more in question, keeping her face full in center of the prince as she spoke. \"Was that man bothering you, Your Majesty?\" It was clear by her tone that the woman had no clue who he was, let alone why he was here.\n\nAnd while Caleesi had heard the tail end of what they were talking about- unwillingly to her own choice- questions still arose in her mind. However, the high elf knew better than to ask them in a place such as this."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*Though the topic of Umras still lingered in the mind of the prince, he wondered if there was better conversation to be had elsewhere for him. The dragonborn seemed to be pulling eyes from everywhere just by his mere presence at the ball, and he knew that the sharks were circling around his scaly visage. Intimidating on the battlefield or not, the dragonborn needed to keep his eyes open and his back covered in the arena of the ballroom, and he hoped that his warning might have given Umras the ability to do so. He seemed to be floundering without it, as politics were not Astalios's strong suit... But certainly weren't Umras's either.\n\nBut that was all said and done, and now, his gaze was matched by the crystalline blue eyes of his Grand Mistress of Magic, who seemed surprised to see him. He had wondered how much of an impression the change in reputation made, and it might have been true that she saw him in a different light. Certainly, her initial surprise might have been muted had she thought of him in the same way. She seemed more sociable, he supposed, and she had taken the time to observe his features thoroughly, as he had done for hers. Perhaps, he thought to himself, there was not enough to reconcile two images together.\n\n\"Your arrival is hardly late, Lady Scarleth.\" *He replied evenly, voice resonating like a cello being played.* \"But regardless, you grace us with your presence at any time. You have not missed out on anything at all, as far as I am able to tell, except a single short conversation, which is of no particular consequence.\" *He laid it out plainly - they had only just entered the ballroom themselves, and so she was not lacking punctuality. The night had barely begun, and she was one of many links in the chain of nobility entering to fill the room with their chatter and gossip, though he did not believe she was one of those nobles that chose to squander their words on idle chatter. She had been more sensible in the past... From his memory.*\n\n_ _\n*But who knew if memory was accurate at this point? It had been years, and perhaps his image in her mind was only a foggy recollection of a shape long past, since refined by the fires of the forge of war. Orc warbands of Dazvaz had been the anvil that had shaped him, but he knew not what had shaped her. It was a curious sort of conundrum.*\n\n\"It was not a matter of allowing you, Lady Scarleth. Thunder Fest, I believe, is open to all who wish to attend.\" *That was a strange turn of phrase for her, he mused, and placed emphasis on the power imbalance between them as prince and subject. Being unaccustomed to the glamour of the room, however, was an experience that he absolutely understood, and his return from tents in the field to gilded rooms was a shock indeed when he had first returned.* \"But I do take your meaning about glamor. It was... Difficult for me, as well, to truly readjust to what I saw at home once my campaign on the border was concluded. After being in the field for so many years, I had forgotten what a feather bed felt like, and at first, I needed to sleep on the ground to feel comfortable.\" \n\n*He had felt like a stranger in his own house, he supposed, but that was how his father intended it to be. After knowing the hardships that men faced, one could better understand how to govern those without such conveniences, and how to lead them properly, speak to their desires and play upon their loyalties, see what made them keep walking forward against adversity.\n\nHis expression was quite neutral, but had begun to crack into a small smile in an effort to return the same sentiment as hers - though he had little idea of whether he could match the crow's feet crinkling of the corners of her eyes as she smiled in earnest, and he only could try to match her. His face was not quite suited to the large grins that could be so charming upon other countenances anymore.*\n\n\"As a matter of fact...\" *His face fell, becoming grim once more easily as he heard her question about the dragonborn.* \"That happened to be Chief Umras Kilfras of Dazvaz, who seems to have very little political experience. I... Simply reminded him of how things could be.\" *The armor trick could be interpreted as a gesture of friendship or a stark reminder that his life was in Astalios's hands. His gaze flicked to Caleesi's face once again, wondering how she would react as the muddy brown eyes stared into blue.*"
}
] | 753 | 4,312 |
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{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "\"So it would seem.\" The princess chimed, almost in delight. Eyeing the dragonborn a moment longer, there was almost a look of glee on Delsandra's face at the thought of Umras failing at his peace talks. There was definitely a disdain in the princess's heart for the warmongers of Dasvaz. Time and time again had they attempted to breach the walls of Thyseer, though each time they failed *Miserably*. It was really quite pitiful, Delsandra thought to herself. Poor little orcs and goliaths and dragonborn simply couldn't put their heads together and form an actual society. No, they needed constant war and bloodshed. The princess preferred a much more political and precise way of leading and living. She'd likely never see eye to eye with the likes of the Dasvazers.\n\n\"As you know, Thyseer is just one of the many kingdoms to outlaw slavery. I myself don't see the reason, the slaves of Lazaroth lead peaceful and happy lives. Look at Dasvaz; their freedom breeds chaos. Slavery breeds order and peace.\" Before the following silence lingered too long, Delsandra added calmly, \"Well, some would believe that at least.\" Taking another sip of her wine, the princess returned her gaze to Samir. As their eyes met, the question of Thyseer's recent goings on almost caused a spark to form in the eladrin's hues. A faint smile appeared, before the princess removed the glass of wine from her lips. Pulling them inwards to remove any wine that may have lingered upon her lips, she responded.\n\n\"Thyseer is as peaceful and serene as it has always been and always will be, your highness. The Festival of Sorevelle grows ever closer. Invitations will be sent before the end of the month, and like every year all those wishing to celebrate in music and fine wine are welcome. I hope to see you there, Prince Samir. Perhaps your sister may even attend, I've yet to meet Princess Nala.\""
},
{
"author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws | Lazaroth",
"message": "*And so it was, another figure entered the ballroom.*\n\nThe heralds opened the doors and their mouths once more, and a tall, masculine and regal figure emerged. *\"Councilman Lord Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen of Lazaroth, Master of Laws.\"* So there he stood, the councilman of Lazaroth; a well known man of law and order, as well as vampirism. For it was no secret of just what Lysanthir truly was. Many years ago he had allowed this information to be known when first approached for the position of Lazaroth's Master of Laws. Being such an important figure, the matriarch new such a secret could not be hidden, for it would sew seeds of distrust with a kingdom that most already saw as untrustworthy and conniving. This honesty did not come without its faults however. Most, if not all other kingdoms saw vampirism as a vile plague, a disease of the Goddess of Pestilence, and nothing more than a stain upon Lucidien.\n\nVampires were killed in kingdoms like Thyseer, Alynthi, Khisfire, Findara even; but the law saw Lysanthir as a guest, a diplomat of Lazaroth. So any harm to him was harm to the Den of Wolves, an enemy not many wished to have. The wide eyed stares from the nobility below him spoke volumes to Lysanthir, as well as the uneasy quiet that had rushed over the ballroom like wildfire. Stepping in enough for the doors to shut behind him, the high elf simply looked around him with a bored stare, one that screamed this was commonplace for him. Lysanthir was of course used to the countless stares of fear and hate in any place that wasn't Lazaroth. His kingdom stood as one of the only places where vampirism and even lycanthropy were widely accepted, even seen as a testament of strength. Lysanthir did not share these ideals. There were many, many times in the councilman's history where he wished he could simply wither away, but for now he remained breathing the stale air that now surrounded him.\n\n_ _\nDressed in an elegant silver and red garb, Lysanthir's robes gently dragged behind him with each step. Many would notice the slight limp he walked with, either by first taking note of his cane topped with a marvelous black jewel, or simply the way he walked. Vampires were known for their immense healing factor, it was true. Regardless of what others thought, the many whispers involving his name did not fall on deaf ears.\n\n*Lysanthir heard each and every one of them.*\n\nHis crystal blue gaze fell upon the more notable attendees of the festival; Prince Dilitrios of Alynthi, Princess Qinrel of Thyseer, Prince Samir of Khisfire. Though there were a handful he did not recognize, those he did received no more than a passing glance and a simple nod of respect. It wasn't as if Lysanthir couldn't see or feel the uneasy and almost fearful gazes upon his figure. Descending further into the ballroom, many nobles and servants alike gave the Master of Laws a wide berth, but he paid them no mind whatsoever. Knowing his presence was clearly unwelcome, the councilman made a slow and steady stride toward the outer gardens adjacent to the ballroom. It would likely be much quieter, at least until the fireworks began. Until then, the castle grounds is where he'd remain."
},
{
"author": "Prince Hannibal Samir",
"message": "The prince let out a smirk as it sounded like the Princess Qinrel, liked his comment. The sun elf had a slight problem with the savages of Dasvaz but was sentient enough to understand people are individuals. The prince did fear the people of Dasvaz, for the bloodshed they can cause when united after seeing what they can easily do alone. The prince glanced at the princess couldn't help but feel something mocking was going on in her head.\n\nThe Prince listened carefully to her opinion on slavery. The points were fair, yet didn't sit well with him. Don't get him wrong he is an advocate for slavery seeing it still as a great tool. Hannibal got round the slavery part by calling them servants. Even found the statement that slavery was outlawed as dumb, he saw servants pretty much the same as slaves with slightly more living condition rights. Hannibal noticing the eladrin drink, he remembered he also had a glass. So he to a sip as well savouring the taste as it went down the hatch. The prince watched the eyes come to life with his question. \n\n\"Oh yeah.\"\n\nReminded of the music festival in Thyseer, he thought for a moment. Past years he was busy with internal affairs like parties, but this year has been quiet so far for him.\n\n\"Indeed I would love to attend this year. Hopefully Nala will, being stuck in that Palace must be bad for her. Though I haven't talked to her in months, been travelling the *Desert and all.*\"\n\nYet another noble entered, but this one shocked the prince. A vampire got let in. Little to say the sprince was shook. To avoid showing fear and interest in the high elf, he kept looking at Princess Delsandra. Admiring the gold work and all. After glancing and seeing the known vampire leave to the garden the focus of the prince lessened greatly from the princess."
}
] | 429 | 1,551 |
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{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "\"Sounds as though Princess Nala needs to get out more.\" Delsandra giggled a bit, this small talk bringing her a bit more joy than she initially thought it would. With a gentle sigh, the princess shrugged to her own words slightly, \"I suppose I shouldn't say such things, I myself haven't left Thyseer's walls for quite some time. It is rather rare for me to leave the castle itself, let alone the kingdom.\" A faint smile seemed to remain on the princess's face, until the heralds at the door shouted once more.\n\nTaking note of another new arrival, Delsandra didn't seem to be filled with a fear like Prince Samir. Instead, that fire within her eladrin eyes only seemed to burn even more. *Vampires?* ***In a royal court?*** What the hell was a beast of hell such as him doing here? That hatred that smoldered within the princesses heart was apparent in her expression, and that distrust for Lazaroth only seemed to grow. She knew they allowed vampires and werewolves within their kingdom and even in their nobility and royal council; but to allow one or even *Send* One to another kingdom? What a blasphemous place indeed. If the princess had it her way, the entire kingdom of Lazaroth would be put to the pyre, burning brightly by the flames of Phoedite.\n\nDelsandra did notice the look of fear on Prince Samir's face however, as well as the many other nobles and individuals present within the ballroom. Did this *Lysanthir* Not care at all how his presence caused others to stare in fear and uncertainty? Obviously not. With a glare burning as fiery as the sun as the vampire took his leave to the gardens, Delsandra shook her head. \"Unbelievable. I cannot believe King Meshoon would allow such filth within his castle, or his kingdom overall for that matter.\""
},
{
"author": "Prince Hannibal Samir",
"message": "The Prince looked glanced at the princess, his eyes still showing the fear of the vampire. Hannibal only fears vampires due to the children stories the servants read to him before going to bed. Yet until now he had never been in the presents of one, he believed the stories were true with their mind control just by looking into someone's eyes hence he avoided looking at the councilman. So the prince gulped down a chunk of his wine.\n\n\"It makes you wonder if King Meshoon endorses the vampire *Plague*. I for one dislike their kind for obvious reasons.\" Hannibal looked at the princess Qinrel glare with having her eyes seem like a flame rages within. The sun elf admired the bravery of the Thyseer princess to speak out. However, he was a bit shocked at the sudden change in demeanour, defiantly jotting down in his head for future reference. \n\nRaising his hand and waved it towards a servant to come over. Once the servant was over the prince downed the last mouthful of wine and took a new glass of wine. The prince spun the liquid and watched the red liquid swirl with the odd bubble sticking to the side of the glass. Raising the glass to his nose the prince gave it a sniff, enjoying the smell before taking a small sip. With his confidence returning from the vampire passing by, the khisfirian prince looked over to the princess and deciding to be a gentleman he decided to ask, \"Would care for a refill by any chance?\""
},
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "\"Hm.\" Caleesi breathed quietly, still examining the dragonborn from afar. \"How are things with Dasvas? I'm surprised to see him at an event like this, let alone that he chose to speak with you. I know little of the more recent chieftains, but if their reputations hold still, they are far better at making enemies than allies...\" The low, hushed tone of the Grand Master remained neutral as she spoke, still keeping her head inclined towards the prince to give off the idea that she was not snooping her eyes elsewhere. Although, as she finished her rather intrigued opinion, Cali then slid her bright blue eyes back into the deep depths of Astalios's own- her heeding smile painting back onto her face as if to keep the peace. \"I have no doubt you came here for political views, so excuse my banter.\" Caleesi couldn't help but notice the strong aged appearance of the prince under the string lights when her attention finally fixated onto him. Even her bright smile couldn't be matched to his, yet the high elf found a bittersweet beauty to his own when he tried to mirror her joyful nature. Searching through his darkened stare, Caleesi's head tilted ever so slightly as her face softened over. \"I will say however, and if i may- That i am very grateful to serve under an old friend...\" \n\nTaking a glass of wine from a pass by tray, the high elf slightly rose it towards the prince before nodding her head. \"Let us enjoy this party for tonight, you of all people definitely deserve it.\" Cali murmured, bringing her cup up to her curved lips. After hearing about the prince's long period of campaigning, while hard to relate, Caleesi felt sympathetic for him. She may have not been able to understand what he went through, however, the sorceress knew very well what it was like to be a stranger in your own body. Your own home.\n\nEven now the young woman would find herself dissociating from the reality of her life... Not fully recognizing that she was merely just a dead soul carrying on the work she felt called to do.Nevertheless, as the High Lady took a respectful sip from her glass, the call of another noble sang into the busy air- making whosoever presence known by the many audible gasps and silence following after it. Slowly, Caleesi turned around at the mention of the name she herself did not know. The massive, narrow steps had created somewhat of a barrier that cut off the view from the ground below; making it hard to tell who would be emerging from the double doors until they made their way closer towards the edge. It was then that Caleesi took the time to whisper over towards Astalios, curious as to why the crowd around them had become tense. \"Would you happen to know *This* Man, Your Majesty? *How come everyone is so... Uneasy?* \n_ _\n\nSoon, the face of Lysanthir revealed himself to the ballroom. His sky-scraping appearance caused the air within Caleesi's chest to stagger ever so slightly. Right away, she could tell he was a High elf, same as she. With defining features of well pointed ears and fair, ivory skin and a face sculpted so beautifully that it was somewhat frightening. It was not a romantic attraction that pulled Scarleth in by any means- heavens no. She didn't even know the man, let alone like the idea of being surrounded by men. But there was definitely something that both scared and intrigued her at the same time. Perhaps it was the odd, reminiscing feeling that he reminded her so much of a man she once knew... That same quiver of fear lingered within the female's bones as she watched the noble make his way towards the staircase- her ears now catching onto the whispers around her. Most- if not all, were cursing the ground he walked upon. Calling his mere presence a disgusting display. However, it wasn't until Caleesi's vampiric hearing caught wind of the princesses tight lips behind her... *Confirming that he was a vampire* \n\nCali's eyes widened immensely once the words hit her eardrums. Causing hints of fear to crawl their way into her once gentle hues. For some reason, the high elf couldn't take her eyes off the man- perplexed at why Findara would allow an openly known vampire to roam the grounds freely. Caleesi, of course, had her own views and opinions on these bloodsucking creatures, regardless that she was one herself. And while she held a fiery hatred in her heart for the kind that took her own life- the words Delsandra displayed sent chills down her bare arms. A lump backed up in the woman's throat at the mention of filth. Making thought of what the princess could possibly say if she had found out Caleesi was that same filth deep down. Better yet- *What Astalios would say.* \n_ _\n\nFlickering her eyes towards the prince, Cali fell in line beside him. Goosebumps now invading her skin in a painful ache. She wondered what he would say on the matter of vampires, if at all. Though with the presence of the Law Master growing closer, Caleesi's gaze turned back to Lysanthir- pausing a moment when she noticed something she hadn't before. *Was he.. Limping?* That once panicked stare had slowly begun to fade into a curious and soft look as her mouth fell open ever so slightly. Vampires had remarkable healing abilities, ones that mend broken bones, or even open wounds. If it were true that this man was indeed a Vampire, then how come he walked with such pain in each silent step? Lost in her own thoughts, Caleesi's stare persisted as Lysanthir walked all the way from one end of the ballroom to the other and finally- outside into the garden lawn. Her brows ruffled together in confusion when he disappeared from view, not quite understanding why he didn't intend on staying among the royals though- with all the blaspheme surrounding him.. Caleesi could put two and two together. \n\nIt was then that a sorrowful look shadowed over her soft features, those longing baby blues falling to the floor in realization that this man could have been just like her- turned against his will and cursed to carry the title of vampirism. Of course, Cali didn't know for sure. However his need for solitude gave enough away for her to ponder on. Regret settled in the woman's mouth when she realized just how hateful her mind had become. She never truly hated anyone before, not like she did Iarydark. There was no place for her to judge someone before knowing the truth, and for that Caleesi bit her tongue towards the spiteful remarks still lingering about."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"Things with Dazvaz...\" *He murmured, running the actions of Umras over and over again through his mind like a streaming river. He had come in armor, unmarked by any sigils, unadorned in any quality or personal style, made not by a skilled smith, but by a novice. The dragonborn had been direct, straightforward - too direct, in his opinion. Ears were everywhere in the world, and he paid heed to none of them. The chieftain was a fool, that was true. \n\nBut even so - He had made an effort to extend the hand of friendship, and Astalios had reciprocated in some way by flashing signals and signs at his eyes, warning him to take the overtures he made back, making it so that he was protected from the circling beasts of the noble parties. He was a strange creature, Astalios thought to himself, one raised in war and unsuited to an uneasy peace. He was genuine, or at least appeared that way. Was it the worst option to con sider the offer?*\n\n\"Things with Dazvaz are as of now still uncertain. I have done my best to remind him of what can happen in these situations.\" *He worded his statements carefully, like interlocking links of chain pieced together by a master smith as his brow creased in worry, his mouth still a grim line as he tried to answer her as best as possible.* \"One would hope that he is different than the past few, and he seems to be. Whether this is for better or worse is the real conundrum in the long run.\" \n\n*He wondered whether he had noticed the shade of her eyes and hair, and how they contrasted. Honey blonde strands of golden gossamer and sapphire blue like a deep sea, each highlighting and offsetting the other. It was a fair sight, and one quite different from the scarred warriors he was used to. Certainly, it surpassed the common excesses of the noblewomen he often saw at social events. Perhaps, he thought to himself, it was some glamour cast upon herself to enhance the image. It was what any cunning warrior might do on a social battlefield.*\n\n_ _\n\"Your gratitude is much appreciated.\" *He summarized his thoughts in a short statement, quick and to the point. She had called him an old friend, however - it was not only a statement of trust in the king, but in him, that she was making. It was heartening to know that such people had some level of faith in him, though he knew that there was never a window into his life that they could possibly see through in order to understand what he was holding back. Why he was so restrained in the presence of others. It was a secret he hoped to take to his grave. His destiny was HIS, and not the possession of some bloodthirsty god whose only purpose was to lead him towards destruction. They would certainly never trust him if that revelation became public.*\n\n\"I... Do not know if it is fair to say that I deserve any such party.\" *He replied evenly, looking down at the wineglass in contemplation. Excess, he reminded himself, was not the way towards being a good soldier, nor was opening the door for temptation a good way to resist the urges within him. She wanted him to enjoy himself, that much was true - but enjoying himself was not a luxury he could afford at the moment. Not without consequences. That face of hers was so full of optimism, he thought to himself, that he could never possibly match it, much like the radiant smile she had given off earlier. What he had was only a half-imitation.\n\nBut this man, he knew.\n\n'Know your enemy' was a priority for any warrior worth his salt, and the council of Lazaroth certainly qualified as enemies. Lysanthir was a premier magician and a man of many talents, each dangerous to an approaching army or worth warning his subordinates about. Abjuration mages were definitely in need if he was to be killed, Counterspells and antimagical traps for him were a necessity.\n\n\"That, Lady Scarleth,\" He spoke her name quietly, deadly serious as he observed the vampire pass through the room. \"Is Lazaroth's Master of Laws. Lysanthir. A vampire.\"\n\n_ _\n*Lysanthir was beautiful in the same way as Caleesi - the classic High Elf opposition to disorder and imperfection showed in the lines of his face, the way he moved, and even his lack of emotional response to the scenes unfolding around him beyond a nod. There was much to be said for someone who could keep himself under control. Perhaps this icy exterior was his pride and joy, the lack of disturbance his prized practice and political facade. There was much that could be hidden behind the veneer of aloofness and inaction, Astalios knew.*\n\n\"He tells of his vampirism to ensure that the people of Lazaroth think of him as transparent.\" *He assessed quietly.* \"It is a pitiable condition. I have no less than utter contempt for those who wear it as if it was a distinction to be proud of, a high honor or some such foolishness. The disease ruins the lives of victims, who may very well go on to infect others as they have to deal with the new way of life. It is especially unfortunate when the commoners are bitten, for it is unlikely they have the resources to request blood every so often in order to keep themselves sane. Those that prey on the weak are truly despicable.\" \n\n*His brow creased - and perhaps he had been named not for his magic, but for the iron stare that he fixed on the Master of Laws, the candlelight of the ballroom throwing the hard lines of his face in to stark relief in light and shadow, a boundary between them that enhanced the sight of each. His gaze eventually moved from Lysanthir, however, as he observed that Caleesi's eyes had widened in shock, then faded into curiosity and into sorrow. He was reminded then that it had been long years since the two of them had met before - and while his years of campaigning had been grueling, so too perhaps had her years of society politics.*\n\n'Lady Scarleth... Are you well?\" *His voice was deep and even, but tinged with the strains of concern that one might expect from a man looking out for a friend.*"
}
] | 867 | 3,464 |
569.75 | 2022-07-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Prince Hannibal Samir",
"message": "After having sip of his sixth glass he looked at the wine and the princess making the supposed joke of blood, put him off of the idea of continuing to down the liquid. Hannibal waved the servant away after the princess's head shook. The smile on the face of the eladrin seemed sweet, and Hannibal was thankful he seemed to be on an okay side of this woman. The sun elf looked off into the party to glance back and realise the princess had turned to fully face him. In return the tanned man turned his body as well than standing on the slant it was before.\n\nHearing the question Hannibal raised and eyebrow and got slightly frustrated at the pause the princess made. *Why* Couldn't she just call it what it is...*Crime.* The prince feeling obligated responded to the questions, \"Firstly call it *Crime*, don't try and work around the truth. My parents trying to crack down on the *Crime* May seem just. But I tell you half their wealth lies in said *Crime*. Why I have spent time out of the capital because all I see is the crackdown on *Crime*. If anything more and more is happening in the walls. Guards shaking down the poor, as they don't have a voice. So I see this *Crime* As a necessary evil or you will see me and my family out on the streets or on some execution platform.\" Hannibal spoke passionately and seemly opposed to the removal of the crime at least to the extent his parents want it, despite the amount of propaganda they tried feeding him in childhood.\n\n.\nThe prince changed his voice from the more passionate attitude to a more casual one like before. \"As for what I do, I mentioned I spend time out of the capital. It is such a cesspool, and restricting. I love to host events at villas throughout Khisfire, typically nothing like this formal occasion. Apart from my hospitality I am known for my hunting on the seas and dunes. I have slain a mighty dorsodile and even the famed Kaladon.\" Of course he had never fought and hunted them alone but will always claim he has, dorsodile because he needs a crew on the ship. And the Kaladon he has been with a hunting party of other nobles and royal guards. \"I also look to befriend some of our great cats, much like my sister. But if you ever want to come to one of my famed parties, or join me on my hunting adventures you are more than welcome to.\" He spoke the last part not expecting the princess to accept the offer by any means and if she does to never turn up. \n\n\"Enough about me what is life of the fair Princess Delsandra Qinrel, like in Thyseer?\""
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*Though the gaze of Astalios had left Umras, the sense for where the metal armor was did not fade, and soon, a cold spot developed on the palm of Umras, freezing the hand to catch the attention of the large lizard. If the palm of the gauntlet was turned upright, as if Umras was looking at it, a message began to scroll across it, written in fine gold lettering across the gray iron that he had bestowed upon Umras. It was quick and discreet, a way to send a message without notice or connection to him - even if people noticed Umras was reading something, it would easily have been a signal from one of his own agents instead of Astalios.\n\nThe message read: \"My apologies, Chieftain, for my rather icy greeting earlier, but our positions dictate that we be discreet. Please take more care in the future to remain within the bounds of plausible deniability as we interact. Secret letters carry words just as easily as shouting. In any case, I send you this message now to give you my true thoughts on the matter of an alliance. I cannot say you are a trustworthy person quite yet, but if this promise of yours is true, and your words about the reformation of Dazvaz are not simply empty air, I cannot find a reason to repulse you. It would be a mighty and beneficial alliance between us. Enough to tip the scales of the world.\"\n\n\"However, overtures of peace from Dazvaz have never lasted for long, given the history of killing being the vehicle of succession and war being Dazvaz's business. I do not mean to suggest that I am opposed to the changes you say you will make, but I do not believe you have quite thought things through yet, and thus I may have to take your promises with a grain of salt. Any leader needs potency, and a victory from you might go a long way in stabilizing your rule. Once it is truly established, and you have the power to make such reforms, your actions will tell us whether you keep your word. I wish you good luck, sincerely.\"\n\nThe gold faded to gray.*"
},
{
"author": "Umras Kilfras, Chieftain of Dasvaz",
"message": "*Umras stood near a table adorned with fanciful cups and drinks, chuckling softly as his claws slowly filtered through the ornate gold and steel. He was out of his element here too, it seemed. He slowly let out a brief sigh, shaking his head as turned back towards Astalios. He offered a quick wave, chuckling to himself. His mind fluttered back to Dasvaz for an instant. How would this ball go if Astalios was an orc? Psh. He'd likely be dead at this point. Umras or Astalios. The mere mention of an alliance would force a duel to commence. He wasn't sure if he could take the prince on in a fight, but he opted not to even think about it. His eyes moved down to his claws for a moment, his attention being caught by the rapidly appearing golden fleece on his gauntlet.*\n\n*A message. One that gave him hope, yet dashed his future expectations all in one go. He understood the hesitancy, though. He was no diplomat, that much was obvious. He tried his best. That much was commendable. He sighed heavily, his eyes closing as he moved to mentally interpret the message. He was right about a few things. A military alliance between Alynthi and a free Dasvaz was unheard of. With Lazaroth as neutered as it was, Gantrick was the only nation that truly stood in their way. With the military and political support of Alynthi, Umras would be free to make all the changes he desired. The sound of a million shackles being broken brought immense joy to Umras, albeit fleeting. The rest of the message brought him intense pause.*\n\n*He'd have to prove himself. Hadn't thought it through. Psh. He had thought about this since he was a child. He wasn't simply jumping into the future with no plan. He knew what he was to do. But he understood where Astalios was coming from. Umras was a wildcard. A fresh Chieftain trying to forge chains that had never even been imagined before. It was risky. If only he had the chance to explain himself. He shrugged the worry off. No point in crying about it. He had a repu\n\nTation to upkeep. Quickly, he moved to brush the gold off his gauntlet, chuckling as it left his palm. He puffed his chest out as he looked toward the dance floor.*\n\n*Forward, he marched.*"
},
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "\"I...\" Caleesi stammered, Her gaze buffering as she tried to pull her eyes away from where Lysanthir had sauntered off too. The young woman seemed visibly shocked and out of it by the color draining from her fair-skinned face. It had been years since Cali had seen another vampire, and with the confirmation of one brought the nauseating feeling of ptsd. Her head was reeling with the sensation of copper scented blood- flashbacks of her fathers dangling heads being rolled out to her feet like trophies to be won. Sending panic to the forefront of her widened expression as sweat was slowly building on her forehead and upper lip. Vampires were monsters in Caleesi's eyes, no matter how hard she tried to remind herself others could very well fall to the same uneventful fate like she did. Taking a moment to gather herself enough to speak, the Grandmistress leaned in closer towards Astalios as she murmured quietly. \"It's just... Vampires are what killed my parents, as you may know.\" She said in almost a whisper, swallowing the lukewarm feeling in her mouth. It was no secret to anyone within Alynthi that vampires were the downfall to Lord and Lady Scarleth, the massive bite marks on their decapitated necks proving that point. While word hadn't gotten far though, Cali entrusted the truth to the prince enough to tell him nonetheless. It was in the past now. \n_ _\n\n\"So its just- *Surprising* To see one.\" With a slight clear of the woman's throat, the high elf shook her head dismissively and pulled herself together. She would not be a fool and have a meltdown in front of such a crowd- let alone her prince. \"But you're right, it is awful.. Those who are left defenseless to such ruthless power. I hope one day we will find an everlasting cure against vampirism.. That way no one has to suffer.\" Astalios's words on how he viewed vampires however, proved far more than Caleesi would have guessed. She appreciated his mercy towards victims, unlike the disdain that came from princess Delsandra's lips- which told a lot about her as a person. Yet- Cali feared she couldn't blame her. Or anyone for that matter. For she too sat in a gray line... Constantly wavering between judging those who wore the curse of monsters and men. Regardless of it all, the weight was getting to Caleesi. The noise and chatter testing far too loud for her to handle. \n\nPausing, Caleesi braced her hand towards her chest, taking in a shaky sigh. She needed air. Silence. And knew that standing here within a sea of blood and warm bodies would not help. The high elf took quick notice of the ever growing concern on Astalios's face, and before she could draw any more attention to herself- Cali flashed a soft, calming smile before dipping her head respectfully towards the man. \"Do forgive me, Your Majesty, I think I may need some air.\" Cautiously, the sorceress hovered her cyanic blue eyes over the prince's face, trying to take his presence in one final time should she not have the chance to speak to him again tonight. As much as Caleesi wanted to stay and linger in the familiar shadow of a friend she once knew- Scarleth knew what was needed of her. And right now she needed out.\n\nSo, with another formal, and graceful bow, the Grandmistress took her leave with the elegant turn of her heel as she headed off towards the opposite end of Far away from the ballroom and gardens."
}
] | 539 | 2,279 |
606 | 2022-07-22 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*The face of Lady Scarleth was pale and drawn, the blood leaving it in favor of a silk-white blanch. The concern in his face deepened, lines hardening further as he looked her over. It seemed to be more serious than he had thought - he had seen this face on soldiers he had served with, the same paleness and sweat at the thought of an axe cleaving the head of their brother or a cavalry charge surrounding them in snarling axes before an iron wave of shrapnel restored the lines. \n\nThat was serious indeed. There was no end to the tremors induced by such reminders, he knew, and the fact that she had retained some sort of grace while experiencing it was impressive. The Grand Mistress's stammerings ended, and returned to a quiet murmur of private matters. Astalios leaned his head somewhat closer to pick out each and every word, bending his shoulder slightly to catch them.\n\nWhat he heard was somewhat expected, he noted, as the details all clicked into place. How could he have been so foolish that he had not connected the vampires with the one that had killed her parents? It was a harsh reality that had put her in the position to be Lady Scarleth, and not simply... Caleesi. He ground his teeth at the mention, fist clenching nearly automatically before he forced himself to relax once more as the picture came into place.*\n\n\"I... See. I apologize for the reminder.\" *He replied as quietly as she had first murmured to him, keeping their conversation low and private. It felt sickening to be the one to enlighten her to the fact that the man she had enquired about was of the same affliction as the ones that had taken her family from her - a family, he thought, that she had been previously happy with. Shattering her life like glass was not a pleasant experience, to say the least.*\n\n_ _\n*Surprising to see one. He caught the words placed delicately in order to avoid saying that she was shaken. But such overtures were expected from a minister of the council, and she was putting on a brave face deliberately for the benefit of the ballroom. He could not blame her for wanting to appear strong - as it was the same reason he wore his armor constantly, even if she could not perform magic on her reputation to turn it into a weapon.*\n\n\"I should think, Lady Scarleth, that should a cure be found, all that deserve to be pardoned would come forward to receive it. After that day, we shall truly know the monsters when we see them. Who would choose a life of parasitism and murder over a cure for their disease?\" *The question slid from his mouth as if it was a pure thought, unfiltered by the ballroom social atmosphere. His face remained as deadly serious as he had been, as if he was contemplating the future in which vampires were hunted down with complete security in their lack of honor. Those afflicted unwillingly would be able to remove the affliction, and those that remained would be killed.\n\nAs Caleesi pressed her hand to her chest and seemed to try to pull a facade of calm over the core of nerves and fear that she had exhibited, Astalios's head dipped back to her in reciprocation of the nod she had paid him, the respect that she had chosen to show. His own respect for her was growing, as was his sympathy for the experiences she had faced since his absence from court life. Perhaps, in another life, she might not have had to go through the loss of her parents, and he might have stayed in the capital, content to learn to govern instead of fight. Perhaps... If he had been there. But that time was long gone.* \n\n\"Go.\" *He gave her license to leave with a simple word.* \"Do not hesitate to ask if you require anything.\" *And as she left, he refocused on the party, and the eyes of the princess that were fixed upon him. A cordial and firm nod was sent her way.*"
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "\"Well, forgive me for not wishing to seem rude or nosy in Khisfire's endeavors, Prince Samir.\" Delsandra's tone shifted once more, though it was one of defensiveness. The way the prince had spoken to her didn't seem to sit well with the eladrin. This was formal, their discussion would remain that way. This was not a place of politics, but it seemed Hannibal was passionate about his home, though what queen or prince or any other leader wouldn't be. Frowning, Delsandra continued, \"Yes, crime runs rampant through your streets, though I see your mother and father's efforts of something of respect and honor. I for one would not wish my own home to have such a moniker.\" Of course, the moniker Delsandra spoke of was Khisfire's nickname, 'The Kingdom of Thieves'. It was a true enough name, one Delsandra personally would hate to have if it were one plastered across Thyseer.\n\n\"Its a valiant effort they are making. If some peasant-folk are caught within the whirlwind, if they have nothing to hide they should have nothing to fear. Only those who resist should be seen as guilty, I believe. No man or woman who has something to hide would dare raise a fist to a guard's sword.\" Shrugging, Delsandra finished her wine and placed it upon a passing servants tray, though turned down a second glass. One was plenty, especially if conversations of politics were to continue. She'd be damned if she would discuss such things drunk or even tipsy. Eyeing Prince Astalios and the departure of Lady Scarleth to the did pique the princess's interest however. Wondering what the prince would do now that he was all alone, Delsandra watched as his Master of Magic disappeared into the ballroom, though the princesses then turned her attention back to Prince Samir.\n\n_ _\n\"I can't say I'm one for such adventures, especially those that involve sand getting in my clothing and shoes.\" Smiling as she looked back at Hannibal, Delsandra's eyes still wandered every so often, always keeping an eye on others of interest and their movements; especially Chieftain Umras and Prince Astalios. \"As for myself and Thyseer, we're simply going on as we always have. The plague of orcs and dragonborn continue to try their hand at breaking through our walls, but it has remained futile time and time again, especially with Alynthi to aid us should we need them. I've simply been planning Sorevelle in the recent weeks but decided to take a break and visit King Meshoon's Thunder Fest.\" With a sigh, Delsandra then realized the king had yet to make an appearance. She hoped he would soon."
},
{
"author": "Prince Hannibal Samir",
"message": "The prince noticed the smile of the Princess fade and look amongst the crowd when he was going on about his country's politics. She brought up the talk about crime to be fair, and since he has to be vocal about it not much of an option to not be passionate. Of course Hannibal thought the Princess came here to escape the talk of politics, but he could only think yet again someone was going to mock his home for it's crime. Hearing Qinrel speak up about the *Peasants* Being falsely accused. \"God *You are childish*.\" The prince mumbled while he took a sip of his wine to hide the comment. \n\nHearing about the princess's life was interesting but couldn't help but realised Delsandra kept glancing away. When she got to the big events like the Dasvaz attacks, he was interested. Endorsing the word plague to describe the creatures, to even letting out a polite chuckle. \"Fair, fair. Breaks are always needed.\" The sun elf lingered on the thought of the king not showing up. It is odd for the host to not show face especially for an event like this. \"That is a fair point. The king is not here.\" Hannibal took a look around trying to spot the king from the faint memory of the appearance he saw in a painting months ago, or at the very least someone with a crown and all. \n\nPrince Samir turned back to the Thyseeri Princess to make his depart, as an elegant noble woman met his gaze. Hannibal looked back at the noble to see if the woman was still looking at him, and yet she was. So the prince spoke up to the princess, \"It was a pleasure meeting a mostly like minded person. I hope we meet again outside of this event.\" The prince raised his hand as a goodbye before walking off taking a sip from his wine heading towards the noble woman. But the thoughts of what was up with the Princess lingered in his mind."
}
] | 581 | 1,818 |
623 | 2022-07-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*As Prince Hannibal left the princess, leaving both himself and Delsandra without conversation partners, Astalios considered saying hello. There was much to be gained not only from reaching out to new allies, but upkeep of old ones. Keeping those relationships steady was a major part of politics, which the queen never failed to remind him of. And so, as he found his opening, he made his way over to the princess of Thyseer, presented himself with a respectful nod of the head, and spoke, cordial and pleasant in tone.*\n\n\"Your Highness, it is good to see you.\" *He wondered if she had been watching them just then with a skeptical eye or an inquisitive gaze, hoping to find out more about relations between Astalios and the ministers he commanded - or what he was doing with the chieftain of Dazvaz. She seemed to be a 'ballroom' sort of person, graceful when she needed to be, and perhaps a little sharp tongued.*\n\n\"Have you been finding the ball pleasant so far?\" *He asked, following the proper courtesies as he went, making sure he was considering his conversational partner's experiences, and never forgetting to be polite. There was much more on his mind than the simple conversation ahead, however - he was worried about the high elf that had left the room so briefly. Battle shock was never a pleasant sight to see, and to pick up the same signs in a lady whom he was sure had never left the noble life was a dark sign indeed.\n\nHer parents, he knew, had meant a great deal to her, and even seeing a vampire again might have been the impetus for such an episode. But should he have done more? Perhaps gone with her as a steadying hand in the time of stress? He did not know, but her request had seemed to be congruent with being alone for a while, having a private moment to collect herself. He knew from her reactions to him that she was putting on a facade there, if nothing else. Perhaps it was best that she had left alone.*\n\n_ _\n*Back to the problem at hand, however - he was unlikely to say anything that could possibly maneuver the princess of Thyseer into giving up a secret, so perhaps he might take his chances with a simple question - be honest and straightforward, and the information could be shared freely.* \"And how was your conversation with Prince Hannibal? I hear he is an interesting person.\"\n\n*That, strictly speaking, was untrue - Astalios had heard that he was hardly ever in the capital, never learned to govern, never fought with an army, and shirked his duties at every turn. The grim expression that seemed to be the neutral for Astalios's face remained fixed upon it, impassive for the moment. If he showed disgust, it would be impolite.*"
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "Nodding her head to Prince Samir, Delsandra bid him farewell with a curt smile. \"Farewell, Prince Samir. It was a pleasure speaking with you.\" Dipping her head, the moment the Khisfirian prince took his leave her smile disappeared. While the majority of their conversation Delsandra enjoyed, it was his fiery attitude towards its end that left a bitter taste in the eladrin's mouth. Raising her eyebrow as the half-drunk prince wandered over to a noblewoman that had been eyeing him, she soon rolled her eyes and instead focused on an individual approaching her; Prince Astalios. Dipping her head in greetings to the prince, Delsandra smiled happily as he neared before offering her own hello.\n\n\"Greetings, Prince Dilitrios. Yes, the ball has served as a fantastic break from planning Sorevelle. It's also a great opportunity to hear King Meshoon's fireworks I've heard so much about. I hear they're quite the spectacle.\" Gently holding her hands together in front of her over her dress, the princess's fiery eyes seemed bright and cheery, though there was a tinge of curiosity within them. Shifting her eyes over to the prince of Khisifre, Delsandra let out a sigh followed by a chuckle, one that almost sounded like a songbird waking up and singing its heart out. \"Interesting, yes. Quite the character. I wonder if most Khisfirians share his fiery nature, though I suppose with a name like *Sun elf* That's to be expected, hm?\" Returning her blood orange eyes to Astalios's she took a moment to study the man before her. Broad shoulders, dark and heavy eyes and brow, a stiff jaw and masculine look to him. Astalios carried himself well.\n\n_ _\n\"I was a bit disappointed Princess Samir could not make it to the festival however, I was actually curious about the news I had heard of one of her guardsmen-\" Lowering her voice and leaning in ever so slightly, Delsandra widened her eyes a bit. \"-though I suppose discussion of Nala's planned assassination might bring up unwanted memories for our host.\" Frowning a bit, the eladrin's expression almost looked like a mocked version of pity or sadness, but it soon disappeared as Delsandra let out a sigh, washing away the grim subject with her sweet sounded voice. \"Though, I'd prefer not to speak any more of a man no longer apart of the conversation; how about yourself, your highness? I saw Lady Scarleth looked a bit-... *Ill* In the face as Lazaroth's councilman arrived.\"\n\nThere was that familiar expression of curiosity and nosiness Astalios likely had seen before. One the prince would have seen in his own courts, the ladies discussing gossip on anyone that dared pass within their vision. Delsandra knew not of Lady Scarleth, only that her parents had perished. The princess never really concerned herself with such matters, as they effected her in no way whatsoever. The loss of another's parents was something they'd carry, not Delsandra."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*It seemed, from the way that she reacted, his estimations of her character were correct. She was bedecked in a beautiful gown of blue and gold, jewelry was tastefully wrought over her, and a curiosity that bordered on being an ear for gossip. The news about Princess Samir he had not heard, but he noted down for the future. Assassinations were never pleasant business, and it seemed something had happened to her that might at least be cross-referenced with the occurrences recorded at King Zarreus's parents' demise. That would yield at least more information, which never hurt at all. Aggregation of data was always a pleasant experience, and it gave so much more of a strong base of knowledge to build from.*\n\n\"I am sure that the musicians of Thyseer are hard at work honing their skills for the coming festival. Every year, they seem to impress the court more and more, though I have not attended in quite some time. This year, I will have the time, barring any unfortunate incidents to address.\" *He mused, racking his brains for his schedule. Sorevelle seemed to be open, or at least lacking any events that could not be delayed a day or two in order to attend and make another appearance in society.* \"And, of course, with your proclivity for planning events such as these, I have no doubt that it will run smoothly and be quite impressive.\" \n\n*Though the eyes of Delsandra seemed bright and cheery like a candle flame, his own were dark and unclear like silt on a creek bottom, brown as muck. He returned her gaze with a question forming in his mind - what was behind her motives? What did she really hope to gain in this endeavor by trading gossip? Was it just for enjoyment?* \"As for the fireworks, I suppose they shall be excellent, although I am not sure that I remember the last Thunder Fest all too clearly. It was, after all... Quite a long time ago. It seems a lifetime away now.\"\n\n_ _\n*His voice was calm and quiet, though not shaky or unsure. Remembrance was a powerful thing, he thought to himself, and it would be wise to recapture that image of himself before the wars he had fought - to remember what his friends had been like at court, and to force himself to think that there was more than just the prevention of conflict or the winning of wars. There was a life, a long time ago.*\n\n\"Well, I am sure that Princess Samir had her reasons, given that the unfortunate occurrence.\" *He spoke carefully now, making sure he could be seen as sympathetic, but ultimately logical. To refuse to excuse the absence of someone who had nearly been killed was a callous thing indeed, and he did not intend to seem callous to his subjects or to any allies.* \"Prince Samir... Can probably fill his own niche, as I doubt that his being a sun elf is the only reason for his personality.\" *Indeed, most people with the capacity to understand the concept of responsibility could adhere to it. It was his choice to run.*\n\n\"Ah. Lady Scarleth...\" *He paused for a moment, but it was no secret to anyone in Alynthi. People knew already that her parents had been the unfortunate victims of a vampire attack.* \"Perhaps it is understandable that Lady Scarleth is ill. Her parents were the victims of vampires, and to see one was an uncomfortable experience for her. This is no news to the court, of course, but it is as always cause for some sympathy and respect. The loss of family is always a tragedy.\" \n\n*His gaze was a little pointed as he attempted to make sure that Delsandra was treating his Grand Mistress of Magic with the proper respect she was owed - not just as a noblewoman, but as a person who had undergone a great loss. Compassion was not only proper, but needed.*"
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "Delsandra's eyes seemed to widen quite a bit at the news of just *How* Caleesi's parents met their end. Looking over to the exit the woman had gone through, the princess frowned slightly. No wonder she reacted so fearfully. \"I see. I had not known her mother and father met such a terrible end. All the more reason why *Creatures* Like Lord Olagwyen should not be allowed to exist. If I had it my way, they'd burn on a pyre one and all.\" As she said the final few words of sentence, those fiery eyes almost seemed to light up like the flame within a fireplace, an obvious indication of an eladrin's anger should their eyes glow so ferociously. That frown never seemed to end, and soon her tone became one of irritation as well. \"I should hope King Meshoon has a guard watching the man's movements.\"\n\nPerhaps it was a bit much for Delsandra to feel as though Lysanthir needed to be constantly watched. If he dared hurt or make a move on someone, a war would surely start, or at the very least a call for Lazaroth to surrender their Master of Laws, even a demand for vampires and werewolves to be outlawed in the kingdom. Quite the issue indeed. Perhaps Delsandra was also thinking too little of a man *Known* As the Master of *Laws*. It was obvious the princess thought very, very little of vampires and beasts of the same ilk. Rolling her eyes and closing them for a long moment, Delsandra soon opened them once more and tried her best to put the thoughts of burning Lysanthir alive behind her, though as those thoughts did invade her mind a fire began to form heavily in her chest.\n\n_ _\nThe heat rose and rose, as if her patron god were calling upon her to smite the unworthy, the fiends that plagued the earth. For a moment it seemed as though Delsandra's eyes were darkening, that fire turning almost a light grey. Before Astalios could truly catch on however, the princess inhaled, her eyes returning to normal once more. Clearing her throat, Delsandra waved a hand. \"I'd rather not ponder on such subjects if you don't mind, your highness. I am curious however how your endeavors have been. I didn't know Dasvaz had a new chieftain, especially one of such a *Formal* Disposition.\""
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"I believe that is a worthy goal.\" *The remark left his lips in the form of a murmur - he agreed with the end goal, but did not think that the descriptions of violence were indicative of much more than the unrestrained bloodlust that he sought to keep caged in his own heart, and not led bleed into his mind.* \"Should the Alchemical Association one day invent a cure, we should be able to sort the wheat from the chaff and then give the monsters who refuse to return to normalcy the gruesome deaths they truly deserve. I do not believe it will ever truly leave us, however - no matter how thorough one can be, the world is a large place, with many nooks and crannies in which evil may hide. Sometimes it hides in plain sight.\" \n\n*Perhaps, he thought to himself, that was a bit on the nose, but there was something unsettling about the flame in her gaze, the intensity with which her heart seemed to burn. It made him consider - the desire to do right in the world could not simply be zeal. Though passion was helpful at times, it could often cloud one's judgment on the battlefield and off of it - and bring in the messy temptations of following one's own habits instead of what was practical or morally justifiable. It could not be enough to do what was convenient - but what was truly right.* \"If King Zarreus posted a guard, Your Highness, that would hardly be endearing towards Lazaroth.\" \n\n*Though he disliked Lazaroth as much as the next man, violating the laws of sovereignty and openly guarding ambassadors was a hostile action, much closer to what nations at war might do than what a decidedly neutral (though perhaps disagreeing) country should.* \"As you wish, we shall leave the subject for another time.\" *She was concerning, he knew, in her overwhelming emotional states. People that became too overcome were not reliable in times of battle and in times of conflict, and tended to make hysteria much more common than it needed to be.*\n\n_ _\n*She was, however, an ally, and he needed to keep his allies happy.*\n\n\"Dazvaz's future is uncertain, as it always is when there is a succession crisis.\" *He exhaled, the frown remaining on his face.* \"It is my hope that this one catches the meaning in my being able to impose my will on his armor.\" *From an outside perspective, a show of force and a loaded gift. He hoped it looked that way, of course. His reputation had to be upheld. Though he was sure that Umras's intentions were good, he could not appear friendly to the man until he knew him more - and certainly, the game of politics had to be played further before he made a move.*\n\n\"I furthermore doubt his disposition is so formal. The armor was poorly crafted, with stress lines running through the plates that indicated to me a novice had made it. It was without design or refinement, and seemed freshly made to me.\" *He reported his assessment.* \"It is my estimation that the smiths of Dazvaz die quickly and mass produce weapons for the slaughter - which we knew from experience. Their weapons would too often shatter in battle even when I was not personally there. Many reports had been generated to that effect.\""
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "Nodding as the prince spoke, Delsandra found comfort in his agreement of her feelings on vampires. A cure wasn't something the princess had truly thought of, though she doubted it would ever be possible. The gods themselves had to grant the power to kill dragons long ago, which even they weren't immortal like vampires are. The thought of a cure being created for vampirism was a wonderful dream, Delsandra believe it gave a false sense of hope. Though the doubt of vampirism ever truly being eradicated gave the princess pause. Surely the cleansing flame would be enough to rid the world of such heinous monsters? Keeping those thoughts to herself however, Delsandra nodded in agreement. \"Yes, evil does tend to always lurk even when it seems as though its been snuffed out.\"\n\n\"I suppose so, yes. Appearances are oh so important in places like this, the last thing you, me or King Meshoon for that matter needs is wolves breathing down our necks.\" A look of slight irritation seemed to cover Delsandra's face when Astalios spoke of Lazaroth, but she was happy for the conversation to move on. Listening to the prince speak of Dasvaz, her expression remained sour to an extent. It was more than reasonable for Delsandra to be skeptical of the dragonborn chief and his intentions. Time and time again Dasvaz attempted to raid the fae kingdom, perhaps they had grown a brain on their shoulders and decided to try to get in through a politically formed trust between them all. Dasvaz, Alynthi and Thyseer. It'd make for one hell of a tale hundreds of years from now, perhaps even a bard song sung at Sorevelle one day.\n\n_ _\n\"I do so hope the natives of Dasvaz have come to their senses and wish to be civil with their neighbors. I wonder if your ancestors regret allowing Dasvaz to become its own nation... Have you thought of simply conquering it and reclaiming it once again?\" It was quite the forward question, indeed. Delsandra seemed to know her history, and the look on her face was one of genuine curiosity. \"Surely it has to have crossed your mind once or twice in your war against those savages.\" Tilting her head ever so slightly, the princess shifted her eyes after a few moments from Astalios over to the dragonborn chief Umras, the look on her face one of uncertainty."
}
] | 619 | 3,738 |
664 | 2022-07-24 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"We should strive towards that goal regardless.\" *He concluded, keeping his motivations as visible as ever. It would not do to have his drive to eradicate the lawbreakers and criminals of the world questioned by his allies, and playing into her zeal was always a good option.* \"Even if it may be unattainable, the journey is necessary - and we shall have our day in the end, I suppose. All possible outcomes will happen, given enough time. Eventually, our efforts will bear fruit, whether it be in this time or far into the future. But one day, good dreams will come true, should we not abandon them.\" \n\n*It was a bit idealistic for a statement of fact, he supposed, but there was a need to believe in the ability to be better - to do better - that gave him a will to succeed. One could not strive for something they truly considered impossible, as the effort would be wasted. Goals should be within reach, and the belief that one **Could** Reach the goal often led to progress faster than being cynical. And the last thing he needed was more cynicism, considering his particular struggles in controlling himself. That needed to be possible - the sense of restraint had to be real, and his destiny **Had** To be his own. No other outcome mattered.*\n\n\"Don't call them wolves, your Highness.\" *The reply came from his mouth more firmly than he had anticipated, but such was the solidity and force of the statement that he could not help but stamp it into reality with weight behind it.* \"That would be giving them too much credit. They may call themselves whatever they like, but in the end, we are all people, and none of us are any more special than the other. Mystifying them as wolves or bears or dragons is more than they are due, and makes them seem much farther away from us than they really are. They are fallible, and can certainly be the prey in any situation. It is a disservice to us if we name them the predators.\"\n\n_ _\n*The glint in his murky eye revealed a hardened determination to project strength, stand, and face down those who wished to make the allies of Alynthi intimidated. No such concession would ever be given in word or deed to those that thought them weak because they exercised restraint and valued life. And speaking of exercising restraint and valuing life, there was a dangerous edge to Delsandra's perception of those two concepts. It was far closer to that of Gantrick or Lazaroth than he liked.*\n\n\"I doubt it will happen.\" *Many things had gone poorly for any contract struck in the past - not only because of the inconsistent succession system of Dazvaz, but because its rulers tended to be duplicitous, crafty, and entirely driven by strength and wealth.* \"And as for conquest, well - What would I have to gain from conquering Dazvaz? There are very little areas of arable land or natural resources to be found in its territory. Our borders, as they are now, are large enough. Vedian is a good source of agriculture, the Greenheart a source of lumber, Lerwick provides many mines. We have allies that trade for what we lack in peace. I only hope to maintain what we have, and keep the peace that the king has governed over.\"\n\n\"I cannot...\" *He sighed, tapping his gauntleted fingers against his palm one after the other.* \"I cannot say, however, that it has not crossed my mind. Certainly, it is not a good idea, and so it crossed its way back out of my mind as soon as it entered.\""
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "\"I suppose you are right. At the end of the day, they are but mortal dark elves, people with lives to live. Regardless, most wolves don't take kindly to a leash 'round their neck. Anything and anyone when cornered, predator *Or* Prey, is just as dangerous as the other.\" It was obvious what Delsandra was hinting to; the treaty between Alynthi and Lazaroth. It prevented quite a bit, and should that treaty be broken it would easily be grounds for war. It was not the first time Alynthi had offered freedom to another kingdom or nation. Dasvaz was proof enough of that. At least Dasvaz didn't seem to be as collected or well put together like Lazaroth. A war on two fronts wouldn't be a great experience for Alynthi, or its allies at all. Lazaroth had Gantrick, and while Alynthi had both Thyseer and Findara, the war would be long and terrible.\n\n\"You'd gain the mines they have at their disposal, and sure you have the mines of Lerwick but I can gurantee they will run dry at one point or another. Additionally, you'd be putting an end to the countless raids your lands and mine have been victim to; Alynthi more so than Thyseer, and you know that your highness. Umras, from what I've heard from you, seems like he wanted peace. Perhaps it could even be achieved through nothing more than a peaceful conversation.\" Delsandra's eyes shimmered with possibilities. Should Alynthi gain control over Dasvaz, perhaps peace would reign in the south west once more. \"There's also always the possibility that Gantrick takes that opportunity first.\" Shrugging at her own thoughts, Delsandra's fiery eyes remained in Astalios's. Whether he believed her words to make sense or not, her opinion was obvious.\n\n_ _\nDasvaz should no longer be its own entity.\n\n\"No matter. Thunder Fest is not meant to be a political event, but a celebration, right? I'd rather not bore you with such talk.\" Delsandra's eyes became brighter, a happy smile appearing on her face. Finally, she grabbed herself a second glass of wine. The first had sat long enough, she felt ready for another. Nabbing one from a passing servant with a curt nod in thanks, Delsandra took a sip from the blood red liquid within, before returning her gaze to the prince. \"I am glad to know I'll hopefully see you at Sorevelle.\""
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"You are quite right in that *People* Do not care for leashes around their necks. I wonder whether they have ever considered that fact in Lazaroth - that when they squealed and struggled against our expectations, they were placing that same noose back around the necks of their people. They disgust me, and they *Should* Disgust you as well. For that matter, they may complain all they like about having to treat their citizens with respect for scarcely a few centuries before immediately violating them.\" *At this point, he was quite finished hearing what Delsandra had to say. She had immediately ignored the point about not calling them wolves, continued to treat them with more respect than deserved, and implied that he did not quite know the danger he was dealing with. Of course, they had allies, but the quality is such allies was much different. Gantrick's poor climate, low population, and scarcity of resources provided little aid in wartime, while Thyseer and Findara were plentiful each, with aid to spare to the others should one require it. It was a prime example of just why he hated balls with a passion. People versed in the art of passive aggression invariably attended.*\n\n\"When did I ever say he wanted peace, Your Highness?\" *His voice was cold and clear, sharp as a razor's edge as he fixed her with a glare that seemed to make those muddy eyes churn with a hidden storm.* \"And furthermore, you assume that I am willing to kill every orc I come across. Those mines are not worth the lives of the men I command, and my greed is not such that I should want gold more than I desire justice. If I were to erase Dazvaz, what would I end up governing? Still a desert wasteland full of orcs that raid the next place within my kingdom. Gantrick's troop deployment is as slow as molasses, and before they have a force large enough to hold territory, and not simply go about killing, we should know rather instantly. Not to mention, these issues will not disappear for Gantrick.\"\n\n_ _\n*The words were laid out flatly one after the other, each an icy statement of fact, a truth that was evident to him, given a certain set of moral values. Of course, he was no longer sure that Delsandra shared them, and in fact, was beginning to suspect that her proposed solution to the problem of Dazvaz being full of orc raiders would be to exterminate the orcs root and stem, herd them into pens like cattle and kill them all systematically. It was a terrible sign for the future of Thyseer, like the blade of an axe hanging over the head of justice.\n\nAnd she did it all with such a self-satisfied smile that his skin crawled, the sickness before him on display as he wondered whether the Thyseeri people might be better off with her head on a pike than squarely attached to her shoulders. She seemed awfully willing to start wars for someone who had fought in precisely none.*\n\n\"Yes.\" *He slowly nodded.* \"A time of celebration, not of such *Boring* Talk.\" *Perhaps the tone of his voice was a bit too bitingly cold, but he could not help a little bitterness after the subject matter. It was as if he was watching someone place their hand into a fire willingly.* \"I intend to experience Sorelvelle fully, Your Highness, as I am sure it will be entertaining and heartwarming to watch.\""
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "\"I believe you mistake me calling the Lazarothians 'wolves' for something that resembles respect. I do not respect them, and yes they do disgust me. Do you not see a beast as less than a man, Prince Dilitrios?\" The shift in the man's tone did come as a slight surprise to Delsandra, but it was obvious he misunderstood her. There was no respect in her words, nor her tone. The princess calling them wolves was something she saw as an insult, and the fact that they themselves went by such a name only solidified her thoughts. \"The tighter that leash becomes, the more their people suffer, yes. If they wish to be called beasts and subsequently act like beasts, why not grant them the name they so wish for? That does not however mean we should not grant them the respect any predator, rabid or sick it may be, deserves. I've known you to be a man who even against the toughest or disgusting of foes knows respect has its place, on the battlefield of blade and fire, and on the battlefield of words and tongue.\"\n\nYes, Delsandra had wished to move their conversation on from politics, but it was obvious the prince's words reeled her right back in. The last thing she wished to do was make any enemy out of the future king of her strongest allied kingdom, especially given she was next in line to rule her own as well. \"Tell me, Prince Dilitrios, if Lord Olagwyen approached you right now, would you spit in his face and say what you've said to me? That his kingdom and people are disgusting and deserve the leash you've kept tied around their neck? Or would you greet him with a hello like you did me and Chieftain Umras? Offer a kind conversation even?\" Delsandra's words rang true enough. She knew the last thing Astalios wanted was a war with the dark elves, for the great bears of the north would be at their side. Perhaps not out of fear, but out of the desire to avoid conflict.\n\n_ _\nThough on the other hand who knew? *Perhaps the prince loved the thrill of war.*\n\n\"I do not mean to come off as rude, your highness. Nor do I wish to make an enemy of our oldest ally. I am simply thinking for the better of Lucidien, as I'm sure you do as well.\" Taking another drink of her wine, the discussion switching to Dasvaz seemed to cause the princess to shake her head ever so slightly. \"Prince Dilitrios, does Chief Umras's presence here not seem proof enough he wishes for peace? This has never happened, at least not to my knowledge; a Dasvaz chieftain arriving in another kingdom without a warband in to, wishing nothing more than to share wine and chat with nobility. Does that not strike you as some semblance of peace, your highness?\" Delsandra stared into the prince's eyes for quite some time, her brow furrowed into one of deep thought and slight confusion. Had her words really been misunderstood *That* Much?"
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"Men call themselves beasts believing that it may garner them respect. Why should we do them that courtesy?\" *The hissing of breath through his teeth was a symptom of the exhalation of a long-held sigh that he had not realized he was holding in. Perhaps he had misunderstood some of that sentiment she had professed, and she had certainly misunderstood what he meant by respect.*\n\n\"I believe that I was unclear as to what I believe respect is. *Caution* Has its place in the battlefield, as well as the decency to follow rules and treaties, as otherwise we might devolve into unrestrained murderers.\" *His speech was slow and careful, the words coming one after the other like bricks building a small foundation.* \"Respect is somewhat different - with it comes a modicum of admiration, and a desire to share a trait or two with the respected body. I respect you enough to give you my honest thoughts, and not conceal them behind the veneer of politics.\"\n\n\"What I *Said* About Lazaroth was meant to point out a hypocrisy, not to keep any leash around their necks. The bare minimum for a country is not to turn into an extermination camp. They have since broken the unspoken agreement not to keep slaves, but I cannot press them there. That is no leash. My words were to illuminate the issue in on one hand decrying our actions while on the other enslaving their citizens, not to suggest that they be kept under the thumb of another nation in perpetuity. They have no leg to stand on if they choose to protest that as things are.\" \n\n\"Likewise, Your Highness, you have suggested that I conquer Dazvaz without Chief Umras present.\" *His gaze fixed on her once more, traveling down to that wineglass of hers and back up to her face.* \"I am to take this as a sign of trust, am I not? And not a sign that you would willingly spit in the face of the dragonborn just as I have chosen to be cordial with him and Olagwyen?\"\n\n_ _\n\"I... Do not wish to be rude either, Delsandra.\" *He broke the facade of proper wording for a moment, using her name instead of a title, a more familiar manner of speech than the usual formalities.* \"I've been dealing with the Lazaroth court for a good amount of time now, and they drive me insane. It's as if they have no reference frame for what constitutes freedom. I don't know quite how to get through to them. Still, being rude to them would cost lives, while sharing my thoughts with an ally does not.\"\n\n\"And as for Umras, well, I would hesitate to say that his presence here constitutes peace. It constitutes a foray into politics, yes, but to what end? It may simply be that he is smarter than the past generations of Dazvaz chieftains, who chose not to know the enemies they were fighting against. Information is half the battle, and if the new chieftain is finally fighting the war of intelligence, this may be a more concerning development than many of us are ready for. It is good to be cautious in any case.\" *Perhaps he had overreacted. It felt worse than simply being on the battlefield to play words with politicians and court ladies.*"
}
] | 682 | 3,320 |
523.333333 | 2022-07-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "The Tale Weaver",
"message": "A well-dressed red tiefling herald soon appeared at the top of the balcony near the head of the ballroom, opposite its entrance. Only a handful of patrons seemed to notice his arrival, but soon he caught the attention of the band playing music, their melodies dying down until full silence overcame their instruments. This eventually made most realize an announcement was about to be made, and turned to the man on the balcony. Clearing his throat, he spoke. *\"Attention, attention! Thank you all for attending the fifth annual Thunder Fest! It is with a sad heart I inform you all that King Zarreus Meshoon will not be attending the festivities, as his attention is needed elsewhere for the night. The king gives his deepest apologies to his guests, but still wishes for you all to enjoy the fireworks the Order of the Mage Hands has worked tirelessly on. I hear this year's show is even more spectacular than all before it!\"* Allowing the guests a moment to gather their thoughts on his words, the tiefling waited for the whispers and gossip to die down once more before continuing.\n\n*\"The fireworks will begin in one hour's time, at which I will advise you all to head to the castle grounds for the best view on the show. Please remember, these fireworks are handled by professional magicians and sorcerers, so do not fret or be feared of them. Thank you all!\"* With a low bow, the tiefling nodded to the band who once more began to play their music. The herald then disappeared into a set of double doors behind the balcony itself. The guests began speaking and dancing like they had before, though much of the gossip was about King Meshoon's absence."
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "\"I suppose this is just a matter of different opinions on what being called a beast garners, though I do see where you are coming from your highness.\" Nodding her head respectfully, a look of pity but understanding overcame the woman's face. Astalios had significantly more knowledge on battle and war, though Delsandra knew her way with words. The word politics brought a faint smile onto her face, her eyes rolling playfully. \"To think, we're sounding more and more like our parents each day. One day, our lives will be nothing but I fear.\" With a sigh and shake of her head, Delsandra continued to listen to the prince's words, never once seeming as though she were bored or irritated with his side of things. \"My 'leash' comment was more directed to how they likely feel about your kingdom's treaty with them. I understand their frustration, just as much as I understand yours. They feel slavery is the same as servants, do they not? Though that could all be a ploy to get out of the treaty now that I think about it.\"\n\n_ _\nAt the mention of Dasvaz and Chieftain Umras, Delsandra frowned in thought, understanding fully what the prince meant. Perhaps her words were a bit misplaced. \"Conquer may have seemed a bit forward, I apologize. My suggestion still stands however, perhaps forming the nation as an extension of your kingdom is an avenue, at the very least, worthy thinking about. Even if in your heart you know it will never happen. I haven't had a chance to speak with Chieftain Umras, but based on your attitude when speaking with him and talking about him now, you seem rather neutral but guarded with him.\" Shrugging, the princess took another sip of her wine before the music in the ballroom suddenly stopped, causing her to turn to see what was going on. Her fiery eyes fell upon the tiefling herald, a frown soon covering her face when she realized the king would not be attending.\n\n\"A shame.\" The princess said, turning back to Astalios when the announcement had finished speaking. \"I don't believe your grandmistress Lady Scarleth heard the announcement. Perhaps I'll take that opportunity to go speak with her, if you don't mind?\" Smiling at the prince, Delsandra offered a dip of her head, though she waited to hear the prince's response to her words before disappearing to the gardens."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"How do they get any work done when they cannot take what people say at face value?\" *He asked, his lack of experience showing through in the less nuanced conversation he was able to muster, even with the vocabulary of a prince and a scientist. It did not compensate for his nature, which tended to eschew subtlety in favor of overt signals and hard rules.\n\nIt was a funny turn of phrase. 'We sound more like our parents every day'. She had been a lady of the court far longer than he had been alive, and here they were, standing on equal footing. The comparison was somewhat jarring, as the Delsandra he had vaguely known as a child looked exactly the same - though somewhat shorter from his perspective - as the one he was looking at now.*\n\n\"I suppose I must find a council of my own when I am king, largely styled after my father's, composed of those I trust, and those with the necessary experience to aid me honestly. That is easier said than done, however, and should be a great ordeal.\" *He eyed the cup within her hand, unsure of whether to get some champagne or wine of his own to celebrate the fireworks that were about to occur.* \"One that I hope to weather in due time.\"\n\n*The more specific talk of Dazvaz and Lazaroth was not going anywhere, he knew, so it was probably best to drop those subjects with her and keep on with the festivities.* \"You must have been watching rather intently. I attempt to *Always* Be neutral but guarded with foreign royalty that are not allies, whether they be from Lazaroth or Dazvaz. I have to entertain the possibility at all times that they are simply doing their worst and covering it with a cloak of friendliness. Treaty breaking, spying for information and infiltration... You understand.\" \n\n*As the herald entered, Astalios's head turned, and his eyes followed the speaker until he backed out of the room, a slight quirk of the lip downwards following the king's announcement of absence. He might have expected it.*\n\n_ _\n\"I believe that is an excellent idea.\" *He remarked coolly. It had been a few minutes since the departure of Lady Scarleth, and it was probably time to check if she had taken the time to relax away from the reminders of her past. In that vein, not only were the castle grounds a good place to view the fireworks, but Lady Scarleth was one of his council members, and one he happened to trust, which went a long way towards the formation of a solid foundation of power.\n\nHe held his arm out politely for Delsandra to take, should she wish to do so.* \"Perhaps you might accompany me in conveying that message, Your Highness. The castle grounds are quite a good place to enjoy the fireworks from, and I am sure good company makes the event all the merrier.\"\n\n*The double purpose - his sense of unease with Delsandra had not completely faded. She worried him in a way he both consciously understood and unconsciously could not grasp, as if a faint chord had been identified by his ear, but his mind was still unsure. And of course, he protected his men. On the battlefield, in the ballroom, and beyond, Lady Scarleth was under **His** Banner, and her well-being was his responsibility.\n\nShould she accept, he began to walk out with her to the grounds, where Lady Scarleth had last been seen leaving to.*"
}
] | 508 | 1,570 |
698.8 | 2022-07-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "Gentle, yet sturdy sounds of glass heels clicked their way out into the patio of the Findara castle grounds. Caleesi had felt the pressuring effects of PTSD after her witnessing the arrival of a vampire- the thought alone rattling her core with flashbacks of that uneventful night where she suffered greatly and lost her own life to the hands of bloodsuckers. The grandmistress's chest rose and fell with staggered breaths as she tried to compose herself until she was out into the secluded clearing- finding a balcony fit perfectly attuned in front of the open, outstretched sea beyond the stone railings. Advancing towards the massive pillars, Caleesi walked straight into the stone railing- her abdomen hitting on impact as she braced herself against it. There was a heavy, stiff, and sickly feeling resonating within her chest and throat. The side effects of hysteria making her mouth grow sour and salivate as though she is going to get sick. Swallowing it all down though, Scarleth looked down at her glass still coiled in her pale fingers... That strong smell of wine did not help her nausea. So, with a simple fling of her wrist, the high elf tossed the contents from the cup over the ledge. Watching as the crimson liquid rained from the sky and down into the crashing waves below to be washed away. \n\n_ _\n\nA heavy sigh blew from the woman's lips as she tried to steady her breathing. Knowing this night would be long if she didn't get a grip on herself. All those years learning to get her life back with the help of witches, Cali still had trouble containing herself from the trauma of monsters and vampires... *It was pathetic*, she thought. Nothing else seemed to faze her like this did. Perhaps, without such a chronic disorder, Caleesi would have been the strongest minded woman in the world. Yet here she was, fighting the urge to buckle at the knees. Fighting the memories of blood and guts. At times it was just too much to handle. Though, after pouring her wine out, the high elf opted to pour herself over the stone railing. Folding her thin arms over the balcony and resting her heavy head within them as a means to ground herself back to reality. A groggy-like groan could be heard stretching from the woman's throat, although quiet, still audible. \n_ _\n\nCaleesi felt awful. Not only physically, but mentally too. She had stressed herself to the point of exhaustion before this ball, not wanting to ruin it for her prince or those around him. And the thought of causing such a scene would surely do a number on her. Although, now there was much more at stake... Her vampirism, while under control most of the time- was not prepared to be shaken or stirred to the point of making Cali ill. She had let her morals slip through the cracks enough to pain for the taste of blood. And with a room full of bodies roaming free? It only made things worse. The high lady never took pleasure in the partake of ichor. Hating its copper like taste as it slides down one's throat- the thought alone causing her to shudder. Caleesi's hands slowly gripped the railing, trying to cease the hunger that grew within her. If she had it her way, the sorceress would live a life without the need for blood to keep her alive. That is what she told herself time and time again. That this hunger would pass, she would survive. Another sigh drew from Scarleth before she stretched her back- hoping moving around her stiff bones would make her weakened state of mind refocus. Cali *Needed* To be one-hundred percent tonight. There was no room for failure.\n||"
},
{
"author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws | Lazaroth",
"message": "Alone stood the Master of Laws, his gaze spanning far out into the expanse of ocean before him. His hands remained empty, no glass of wine within them or around him, as he chose to avoid alcohol. Not that Lysanthir was someone who couldn't handle such a vice, he just preferred to stay away from it. For many men and women alike, alcohol turned them into people their loved ones might not recognize, though Lysanthir had none of those either. Hearing the *Click, click, click* Of heels above him, Lysanthir breathed in slightly, the smell of salted coconut with hints of vanilla breaching his nose like when you first light a candle. Glancing upward, Lysanthir watched with a frown as someone tossed their wine over the edge of the balcony above him. Ignoring it for a moment, the *Thump, thump, thump, thump* Of a heartbeat soon reached his ears, piquing his interest greatly.\n\nWas someone in distress?\n\nIn something like a flash or blink of an eye, Lysanthir appeared though quite a few meters behind the individual on the balcony. Eyeing them curiously, the vampire soon realized the person in distress was none other than Alynthi's Mistress of Magic, Caleesi Scarleth. Of course Lysanthir knew each and ever member of every kingdom's council. While it was not his job, it was better to be prepared for situations that called for conversing with other councils and their members. Lysanthir's heavy and dark gaze seemed to scan up and down the back of the elven woman, her heart beat and ragged breathing scratching against his ear drums. At first, Lysanthir believed perhaps the woman was drunk and getting sick, or maybe the wine didn't set right within her stomach. Furrowing his brow in a low frown, the elf tilted his head before finally speaking and making his presence known to her.\n\n_ _\n\"Are you alright, Lady Scarleth?\"\n\nLysanthir's voice was deep and commanding, though the tone one was one that might not be understood immediately. It was cold, but that faint hint of worry was unmistakable. The elven man kept his distance however, not taking a single step toward Caleesi. Given that Caleesi herself was a vampire, although Lysanthir did not know this, she'd likely not hear his heart beat at all, nor his approach behind her. Being so old as a 2,000 year old man with the majority of those years spent as a vampire, Lysanthir had learned to control his heart, movements, breathing; he could be in and out of a room without hardly anyone knowing he was there to begin with. Though, if the Master of Laws knew Caleesi was a vampire as well perhaps he wouldn't have said anything at all. Lysanthir had a similar opinion on vampires to Caleesi, but he knew they could live as normal individuals. The man himself was somewhat proof enough of that sentiment."
},
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "With nothing but darkness covering her eyes, Caleesi pushed her forehead and eyes deeper into her forearm, trying to ease the tension in between her eyes and head. For the most part, it was working. With the cool breeze from the outdoors purifying the sweat from her brows, mixed with the closing of her eyes- the high elf was steadily on her way to easy breathing... \n\nThat was, *Until she wasn't.*\n\nPerhaps it was foolish of someone as smart as the council-woman to think she would find the time to be alone. Better yet- to think that no one would notice her odd and solitary behavior out on a lone patio- but, Cali wasn't fully thinking when she was searching for an exit. So, when the reverberating sound of an unfamiliar voice shook her ears- Caleesi could be seen jumping ever so slightly. Her shoulders pinching up as she straightened herself out to stand tall. The first thought that raced through the woman's mind was that she had no idea who could possibly be speaking to her. She didn't hear the sounds of footfalls, nor the beating of a heart or- *Any* Indication of life around her. All she could sense was **Heavy** Smells of intoxicating musk–the commanding tone of a man- no doubt, sent a bite from her toes to her spine like the gentle jab of a knife. Although Caleesi kept her wits about her as she slowly turned her jaw over her shoulder... Those icy blue eyes hesitate to follow. \"I...\" Scarleth started to speak before she caught that striking sight of Lysanthir's unmistakable robes. \n\n*Fear, dread, panic, it all came crashing into her like the waves hitting the rocks below.* \n*How did he get up here?* Better yet, *How did he know she was up here?* \n_ _\n\n\"I'm fine.\" Caleesi spat back, her tone just as stern as his. However, if the lawmen had listened close enough, *Which Caleesi undoubtedly knew he would,* He would hear a quiver straining to maintain a strong essence within her voice. Like the snap of a twig, the high elf's head turned back to face the ocean. Her hands gripping onto the railing before her for dear life. As much as Cali tried to calm herself however, the anxiety eating away at her from the inside out was unshakable. Faster and louder than anything either of them may have heard, the high lady's heart began to race. Pounding so hard she could feel it in her toes and fingers. Heat rose expediently on the young woman's face as she pondered on what to do. Seemingly embarrassed that she was now stuck in a situation with no way out. However, as informal as it may have been- Caleesi figured if she remained blunt and snappy that maybe, just maybe, he would leave her.\n||"
},
{
"author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws | Lazaroth",
"message": "Lysanthir's eyes seemed to shimmer in the moonlight as Caleesi stiffened, his senses always on alert for each creak her bones made, the sound of her breathing, the drop of sweat onto the balcony floor- her scent lingered, though less so now that the wind was with Lysanthir's gaze. Blowing into her, his own smell would easily reach the vampiress's own senses, one of heavy cologne to mask the smell of blood on his lips and hands. Watching with nothing but innate curiosity as the woman straightened herself but refused to look at him, Lysanthir began to take slow steps forward. Caleesi would not hear them, only the faint *Clack... Clack... Clack...* Of the man's cane on the hard floor of the patio. It was a slow approach, like a viper slithering into a position ready to strike the final blow. \n\nThe councilman was almost surprised when he saw Caleesi's head turn slightly, though a sense of irritation rose within him as she quickly snapped her head back to look out at the seas ahead of them. Squinting his eyes ever so slightly, Lysanthir tilted his head mere inches. Like a cat toying with its food before devouring it whole, the man could feel her fear. It crawled into his senses like the coldest air you've ever breathed, down his throat and into his chest. Slowly but surely, those crystal blue eyes of his began to darken and turn a blood red, like the wine Caleesi had so careless thrown over the edge into the rocky, crashing sea below. At the pace he was going, it would take Lysanthir only a handful of moments before he was at the woman's back, his hot breath invading the goosebumps that dotted along her neck and shoulders.\n\n_ _\n*If people wished to fear him, he'd give them what they so feared.*\n\nSensing the increase in her heart beat and catch in the woman's throat, Lysanthir's eyes became complete, now pupiless orbs of dark red. Inching closer, the man tilted his head forward and inhaled slightly, the smell of Caleesi's sweat and fear now in his nose. Furrowing his brow, finally he replied. \"Then why is your heart beating so fast?\" Once more, that deep and cold voice of his began to crawl up the elven woman's back, like a shadow refusing to let her go. It would grip her body, reeling her hearing in as if she could hear nothing else. It almost sounded as though he were mere centimeters away when he spoke to her, though in reality he was meters behind her."
},
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "The sharp clacking of Lysanthir's cane impacting with the floor each time made Caleesi flench- her body now trembling with a foreboding panic that something truly awful was going to happen to her. That image of Luthais sending his demons to bound and shackle her soon appeared in her head along with every *Tick* That bounced off the stone floor, sending the high elf's mind into a state of shock as she now began to pant heavily from the lack of air reaching her lungs. It was cruel... What he was doing to her. Teasing her with the fear he saw outwardly projecting on her- Cali was sure he could smell it. By no means did Scarleth smell bad, no, of course not. She actually smelled sweet. Decadent, even. Like a piece of soft melted candy you couldn't keep your hands off of. The breeze that had shifted in the vampire's favor no doubt proved that fact, as the wind morphed its thin presence into something like fingers racking through the blonds hair. Carrying that sweet coconut scent into the air until it lingered its way into the nose of the councilman. Caleesi's nails had begun to chip away at the stone railing she was so desperately gripping onto, the sheer force of her strength making it difficult to contain in times of anxiousness. Nevertheless, in the sorcerer's frozen state, Cali kept her fluttering gaze straight ahead. Unwavering from side to side as she found herself squeezing her eyelids shut to yank her back to reality.\n\n'*This can't be happening. This can't be happening... Wake up Caleesi.'*\n_ _\n\nCali had her doubts that a vampire, let alone a nobleman of Lazaroth, would harm another within a setting such as this. He *Was* A master of laws after all, surely he knew the consequences of such actions... Yet, even in her firm beliefs, Caleesi couldn't shake the sweltering dread that coated her skin in goosebumps. *Begging* Her to run. She could not hear his heartbeat after all, which meant all she had to go off of was his scent and cane- both of which felt too close for comfort. It almost seemed as though Lysanthir was purposefully trying to back her into a corner for his own amusement... When his voice shook the ground once more however, rattling poor Caleesi's soul along with the vibrations from his defined tone- the high lady cowered at just how suffocating the males presence and words had made her feel. Those once strong, bare legs grew weaker as Cali pulled herself closer to the edge to get away from him. \n\n\"*It's not.*\" Scarleth said firmly, lying through her teeth. \"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be out with the other royals? *Or is cornering women your favorite pastime, Lord Olagwyen.*\" \n\nEven through her trembling undertones, Caleesi stood her ground. Commanding her voice to flow like daggers to the man's heart just as she would do if he persisted. Although it was blatantly obvious the high elf was battling an episode, she would not let it define her in moments such as these. If Cali took a moment to feel the atmosphere around her, she could sense the burning sensation of the vampire's eyes devouring her whole. Which only made her nerves tingle in a fearmongering ache. Each time Lord Lysan opened his mouth to speak, she could feel the demanding presence of him wrapping around her ears and neck like a warm hand slipping its place onto each open space of her skin. The only thing that scared her the most is that... She couldn't tell if there was malice in that touch. Or on his tongue. It was all simply... \n\nAn intimidating blur.\n_ _\n\nIn between those moments where silence filled that void however, Caleesi would open her beaming blue eyes to focus on the ocean below. Listening to the way the waves rocked and cradled themselves back and forth, building momentum to climb further onto the rocks and sand each time. With every hush of elongated crashes, and the withdrawals of the ties, Cali found herself pondering on what it would be like to toss herself in... Because what if this wasn't real? What if he was simply a nightmare sent from hell. And she simply needed to wake up? \n||"
}
] | 634 | 3,494 |
834.666667 | 2022-07-24 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws | Lazaroth",
"message": "The smell of fear was one Lysanthir had grown accustomed to, but the scent coming off of Caleesi was so much more visceral. It was genuine terror. Not like those he'd feed on back in Lazaroth, the countless prisoners knowing their death would come eventually. The vampire fed on those destined for the pyre or noose. It was not the fear of death within Caleesi's heart, but something Lysanthir didn't recognize. It intrigued him greatly, and with a gentle inhale her scent invaded his senses once more. The faint sound of nails against stone reached his ears, only solidifying her feelings of his presence even more. Lysanthir took note the way Caleesi never once looked at him. Perhaps she knew him and he didn't realize it, or perhaps it was knowing the man was a vampire, and she feared looking at him would seal her fate. Was she really so naive to believe he'd pull something so heinous here of all places?\n\nLysanthir could sense the weakness in her bones and muscles, the closer he came the weaker she grew. The woman's sudden snappy words didn't seem to form a reaction out of Lysanthir. No, he was a stone cold and monotonous as they came. His furrowed brow never seemed to shift, a smile or smirk or something to indicate he was enjoying himself never formed. Lysanthir was simply watching, viewing the woman unravel in a way he'd never seen before. It was an innate curiosity. Though, Caleesi's jab at his motives did seem to cause a faint tenseness in his jaw. Respect was something Lysanthir held above mostly all else, but for Caleesi to question his motives and movements was to be expected. Even the Master of Laws knew not what he was doing or why. It almost seemed as though his body were gravitating towards the elven woman by itself, like an invisible black hole nothing could escape from.\n\n_ _\n*Clack, clack, clack* Resonated from his cane as he came closer and closer behind Caleesi. Those blood red eyes seemingly devouring each faint movement her body made. Calculating and cold, Lysanthir could practically see the blood pumping through the woman's veins. Each muscle along her crystal clear and pale skin with each tense move she made. One might even think Lysanthir was admiring her body for what it was, rather than the blood within that would satiate his terrible hunger. At least the hunger most others couldn't control. Lysanthir however knew how to control those urges to devour each person he came across. Long ago, he indulged them to no end, but after careful reflection he knew it was no life to lead, especially since his would last time eternal.\n\n\"Are you afraid of me, Lady Scarleth?\"\n\n_ _\nPerhaps the question was redundant. Lysanthir could smell and feel the fear that was unsteadily growing within Caleesi. Before too long, the sound of his cane gently hitting the balcony floor stopped, and now the vampire only stood a mere foot behind the woman before him. While before his voice sounded like a shadow crawling into Caleesi's ears, now he was genuinely close enough to feel his breath along the back of her neck. Now, so close Lysanthir took the opportunity to read any thoughts swimming within the high elf's pretty blonde head, but what he saw seemed to surprise him, though only inwardly. Never flinching as Caleesi's thoughts collided with his own, the vampire seemed to frown even more. The feeling of wishing to end it all had overcome her, but why? Surely it wasn't only because Lysanthir was present, right?\n\nThe memories of Lysanthir's own struggle with such terrible thoughts soon came to his mind. Long, long ago when he had nothing to live for the man had attempted too, over and over again with anything he could possibly think of. Stripping himself of his limbs, tearing organs from his body, throwing himself into flame or even the seas like Caleesi dreamed of in these very moments... All for naught. It seemed only the fire from dragons had harmed him all those years ago, but in some cruel twist of fate even that didn't kill him, only scarred him. It even left him with a limp. Perhaps the gods wished to play even more tricks on the vampire yet to come."
},
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "**Thumpthump-Thumpthump- Thumpthump-**\n\nBy now, Caleesi's heart was bursting from her chest. Those ragged pants heaving from her throat fell completely silent as the air within her lungs cut off completely- Leaving her entire body to tighten in response. Her mouth falling open in an attempt to cling onto the bitter oxygen outside. As she stood there, trembling like a fish fresh out of water, Lady Scarleth's shoulders collapsed the minute she felt Lysanthir inches from her. There was nothing more terrifying than knowing a stranger lurked behind you, yet you would never know. Not knowing what they would be capable of should they reach their claws out and snatch you whole. In Caleesi's mind, she felt better off dead than to risk turning around. Her wide eyes shaking in trepidation of what her fate could have been should she do so. \n\nFeeling the hot, and breathless kiss of Lysanthirs words on her neck, it felt as though he were trying her out. *Testing her.* Each word falling from his tight lips acting as a command, rather than a question. \"__No.__\" Caleesi persisted, lying just as she had before. However, it was easy to see the truth. Her head had dipped down exponentially- cowering between pillared shoulders to hide her face from the man. All of her sweat had now frozen over from the chill of the night mixed with the panic that grew inside of her, making nothing but a ghost out of the high elf's face. \"You did not answer my question, Lord Olagwyen. **Why are you here.**\" Trying to shift the questions around, Cali dug herself deeper into the stone railing. Her soft, bouncy locks of golden hair draped from her neck only to fall over the sides of her face, exposing the goosebumps that trailed along the back of her skin. She looked frigid, cold. *Terrified.* \n\n*Had this man no humanity? Seeing a woman shaken this way?* \n_ _\n\nWhether or not the Lawman answered her question, Caleesi felt as though she would have no choice but to kick into her fight or flight mode- the sound of his hollow cane piercing her ears once more. When it stopped however, and Cali could feel the brushing sensation of the councilman's robes touching her dress, Scarleth's voice trembled a final time. Only this time, she pleaded. \"*Don't..*\" Breathed the high elf, her tone shattering with a cry that lumped its way into her throat. She begged him not to come closer, though something was telling in that plea of hers... A fear that she was scared of even herself in those moments. Not just him. Caleesi could only stay backed up into a corner for so long before her senses would inevitably kick in. Everything around her seemed to freeze over. The air was growing stale, the waves had gone to sleep- even the chatter from within the castle had subsided until nothing else but the heavy presence of Lysan was enveloping her from behind. His shallow breathing covered every inch of her ears. \n\nIt was then when he felt too far too close for comfort that Caleesi shook the needles from her spine, and turned sharply on her heels without warning. Her right hand was open, but sturdy in an attempt to strike the vampire as she swung her body around to power the impact. Scarleth's movements were quick and hardly visible to the eye... Making her sporadic attempts deadly should they hit. Although, Cali knew little of Lysanthir. Nor how seasoned the vampire was. All she knew is that she wanted to create space between them- to get out before something happened. Of course, if anyone were to see a High Lady strike a High Lord, it would have been the end for both of them. But Caleesi refused to sit idly by while being made small by a stranger... Not again.\n||"
},
{
"author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws | Lazaroth",
"message": "Lysanthir never leaned in, nor made a move to touch or caress Caleesi in any way, for his intentions were not as impure as a drunken fool the woman may have believed him to be. No, his intentions were something even he himself did not fully understand. Not yet, at least. The voice filled with anger snaked its way from Caleesi's throat into Lysanthir's ears, the simple *No* Speaking volumes. There was a long silence before she spoke once more, her question only causing the man's brow to furrow more deeply. \"I could ask the same of you, my dear.\" Lowering his voice and the inflection in his tone, it almost sounded as though he were trying to cause her to slip up, perhaps say something or even do something she'd regret. While there was a sense that he did in fact wish to know if she was all right, there was also that feeling that Lysanthir was simply nothing more than a predator toying with its meal.\n\n*But all games came to an end at one point or another.*\n\nFor anyone catching a glimpse of the two, blinking would surely cause them to miss what happened. As Caleesi spun around to strike the Master of Laws, his movements were exponentially faster. The moment he realized her body was about to spin, the growing tenseness in her muscles he raised his own hand to catch the woman's wrist. He held it in place, though the moment Lysanthir could finally see Caleesi's face, his heavy expression completely melted away.\n\n_ _\nMemories of decades, centuries, a *Millennium* Ago... His Calitherien. Here she was, standing before him like she had over 1,500 years ago. Lysanthir's breath caught in his throat, and a look of pure grief and mourning became plastered across the poor man's face. His grip on Caleesi's wrist was gentle and calm, as if he were holding the most delicate piece of glass, one that could shatter at any moment. Time almost seemed to slow as if Lysanthir was home once more, back in his home shared a life time ago with his wife Calitherien. Singing her songs he spent countless hours writing for only her, sharing a meal she cooked for them in front of their fireplace, dreaming of the many children they'd one day share with one another... There she stood.\n\nLysanthir's blood red eyes slowly faded back to the calm, crystal blue they usually were. Tears began to form in the bottom of his eyes, though none fell just yet. Slowly, Lysanthir let go of Caleesi's wrist and reached forward, almost in slow motion. Running his freezing cold hands down the woman's cheek, all he could mutter was a simple name; *\"Cali...?\"* His voice was nearly a whisper, filled with longing. The man almost seemed to tremble as his heart lurched in pain and disbelief, before her scent dragged him back into reality. Caleesi's hair slowly faded back from black to gold, that warm smile his wife always wore shifting into a frown and expression filled with fear. Once again, Lysanthir felt his heart shatter. *'What a fool you are, Lysan. Now breathe.'* The voice in his head finally grounded him, and in a ragged inhale the man stepped backward. Confusion and fear filled his eyes, as finally a single tear trickled down his cheek.\n\nWith nothing more than a glance, the vampire disappeared, leaving nothing but that faint scent of cologne behind.\n\n*He was gone.*"
}
] | 825 | 2,504 |
636 | 2022-07-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "Caleesi was coming for the High Lords throat with her dagger like hands, shaped stiff and straight, her fingers perfectly crafted for one swift blow- As she spun herself around however, the heavy momentum of her arm flying through the air only to get caught in a loud **THWAP** By the Law Master's mighty hand- it left poor Caleesi to stumble on impact. A loud gasp sucked through the woman's teeth as she was startled by Lysanthir's sudden movements, her bright baby blues widening as she tried to yank her wrist away from his tight grip. The man's hands completely covered her entire arm- making her balled fist look like nothing but a small marble beneath his muscular form. Cali's eyes panicked between Olagwyen's face and his unwavering grip he had on her, panicking on what he was going to do now that her attempt had failed. For they were not feet apart like she had wished to be, but instead pushed further together.\n\nAs the high elf squirmed under the hold of Lysanthir.. Her whimpers of dread muffled from her gritted teeth, leaving shaky breaths in her wake. Nevertheless, through the vampire's iron-like grasp, Caleesi found herself stunned when she noticed the lack of movement or anger on Lysan's face. Locking eyes with the man, Scarleth stopped completely in her tracks. Seeing his look of pure shock and unreadable stature, a similar look now mirrored in the sorceress as she slowly settled herself into his touch- Completely taken aback by not only the man's beauty but also his unpredictable nature. *Why was he doing this?* She thought to herself. *Why wasn't he tearing her apart limb from limb? Getting a guard? Escorting her out?* It all seemed so unreal... Withheld as if she were a hostage, Caleesi surprisingly lost all fear as she kept her gaze intertwined with the High Lord. Of course, the fear of the unknown still lingered within her azure eyes, but now, everything was still. Her soft face was replaced with thoughts of confusion and surprise.\n\nEven Cali's curled fist that rested in the now gentle grip of his– slowly fell limp as she found herself getting lost in his peculiar stare. \n_ _\n\nSilence had washed over the two as they shared a rather one sided gaze. Lysanthir held emotions that Caleesi pained herself to feel through his eyes. Wavering over his uneasy expression to try and piece together what had taken over him at this moment. Surely it wasn't something she had done, was it? There was an odd pull within the young woman's chest as she was left helpless, staring deeply into his troubled eyes with tears forming. Usually the high elf would pay no mind to a man in distress, let alone one that had her pinned against a railing with no way out- Yet that unrelenting feeling to know more, to understand his pain- it was far too greater than anything she had ever felt.. Ever since Iarydark that is. Feeling Lysan's hand slowly let her wrist go, Caleesi was starstruck when the man then moved it towards her face. At first, the elven woman tried to back away from his touch– too frightened to feel his fingers as they embraced her cheek in an endearing caress. Even so.. As he gently kissed his tender hand along her face, Cali's lips parted in complete speechlessness. She no longer flinched, nor did she stray away from his touch. But instead Caleesi remained still, those wide, bright blue eyes searching inside his own for an answer as to why... \n\nWhen he spoke her name however, that look of shock repainted Lady Scarleths face again. Making her tilt her head in utter confusion as she slowly reached her small, delicate hands up to touch his palm. \"*How do you know my name...?*\" Was all the high elf could manage to murmur out- her voice whispering just as Lysantheir's did. Caleesi simply couldn't wrap her head around what was going on, nor why this vampire was holding onto with such grace and gentleness. It had been *Years* Since the sorceress had ever let anyone near her like this... Let alone touch her. Despite it all though, Scarleth had found herself in another trance yet again. One of mystery and curiosity far beyond anything she could have ever imagined.\n\nThe way the night sky had reflected so cold and lonely within the Law Masters eyes... It was enough to break even her heart. After hearing parts of her name being spoken, Cali's brows twisted upwards in a deep yearn to understand him. Her fingers slowly wrapped around his massive hand before Lysan fully pulled away- And while he may have been cold to the touch, there was a burning warmth that remained on her skin even after he had left. \n_ _\n\nShe watched silently as the vampire took derailing steps backwards, the sight of his tears now falling only making poor Caleesi's gut turn over as if she had done something to offend him. But she had never been in such a situation as this before... And all of the thoughts crumbling down onto her seemingly bared too much weight as she was forced to watch the High Lord turn and walk away. No answer to the millions of questions buzzing through her head. After Lysanthir was out of sight completely, it was then that Cali remembered she wasn't breathing– and soon, her chest would heave in a heavy sigh. Gasping for air once more as the high elf brought her wrist up to her chest to cradle it. *What... Was that?* She thought to herself, eyes racking in her surroundings as if to ground herself once more. The warm sounds of talking crowds would soon find its way to the council woman's ears, along with the rebirth of crashing waves. Even the feeling of the wind still nipping at her open skin still seemed to blow, rustling her long blond hair over her face at times. But now there was a new sound still echoing in the corners of her mind... \n\n*That echo of the vampire speaking her name... So soft and broken.*"
},
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "Emerging from the ballroom with Prince Dilitrios in tow, Delsandra scanned the castle grounds for Lady Scarleth before finally her eyes fell upon the high elf woman. Stood on the balcony and nearly leaning over the edge, Delsandra took immediate note of the look of pure shock on the woman's face before glancing to Astalios for a brief second. \"Is she...?\" Slowly making her way forward, the princess leaned her head forward, the glass of wine still in her hands as she spoke to Caleesi in a concerned tone. \"Are you alright, Lady Scarleth? Do you feel well?\" Delsandra was sure her worry would extend to Astalios, especially given it was one of his council members who seemed to be distressed. It was only then did she remember Lord Olagwyen had been outside as well, though she was sure she had seen him go into the lower area of the gardens. Perhaps he made his way up and spoke to Caleesi? Or perhaps the woman ate or drank something that didn't sit right with her stomach.\n\nSeeing a servant pass by, Delsandra called them over with a brisk tone in her voice. \"Find this woman some water, would you please?\" The servant quickly scurried off and Delsandra inched closer to Caleesi, a look of both caution and worry on her face. Seeing the woman's wine glass empty, perhaps Lady Scarleth simply couldn't hold her alcohol? The eladrin did notice however as she peered over the gardens now filling with other guests that Lord Olagwyen was gone, at least from her view. Frowning toward the prince, Delsandra had her suspicions but chose to keep them to herself. Soon enough, the servant reappeared with a glass of water, and as the princess picked it up in her free hand she tightened her grip around it ever so slightly. Soon, a chill overcame the water itself, even forming a thin layer of easily broken ice on the top. A nice cool drink for a woman in distress.\n\n_ _\n\"Here you are, my dear.\" Holding it out for Caleesi to take, Delsandra was curious how Prince Dilitrios would handle the situation, one of his council in distress and all. The fireworks would start very, very soon however, so the conversation would likely have to continue after or inside away from the loud sounds yet to come."
},
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "After the odd turn of events with Lysanthir, Caleesi was far too gone in a frozen state of mind that she couldn't find it within herself to move from where her feet were planted. The woman's chest still rose and fell quickly- though she kept the noise muffled in case the vampire should return. Cali couldn't get her mind off of why Olagwyen had done what he did, or how he knew of her first name... At least a very sentimental nickname. She couldn't shake his weary eyes from her mind- and how heavily sorrow had resided within them. It was the first time she had ever seen a man so powerful and intimidating cry in front of her like that. Surely there was more to his unusual behavior...? Alas, Caleesi felt as though she would never know the truth. Lysanthir had disappeared right before her eyes, seemingly taking her breath along with his chilling presence. \n\nThe high elf had thought about returning to the ballroom after the incident, knowing it would be disrespectful to isolate herself in an event held for social hospitality. However, the fear of running back into that vampire seemed greater than the fear of her reputation. And so, Caleesi remained glued to the railing she had found herself pressed up against mere seconds ago. Her head had fallen between her shoulders and chest once more, leaving room for heavy breaths to regulate back through her lungs and get her cold blood flowing. All Scarleth could think of now besides this terrifying event was going back home to the Aylnthi castle and cradling herself next to a fire... \n_ _\n\nWhen the upcoming sounds of footsteps slowly marched their way from marble flooring to the outskirts of the stone courtyard, Caleesi's body was still on edge- tensing from the idea she was going to be trapped once more with another monstrous man. Despite her anxious thoughts, Delsandra's feminine voice pierced the woman's ears enough to make her jump, but also relax enough to turn around. As the High Lady did so, both the prince and princess would see just how petrified Scarleth had become. Her bright blue eyes holding a ghostly haze as if she were a deer in headlights. Skimming her shaking sight between the man and woman before her, Caleesi could be seen checking all around them before even thinking of moving from her post. Even in her shaken stupor, the sorceress bowed her head to her superiors in respect, though it was not as gracious as she usually would have been. \n\nCali's first reaction upon staring out between the two was to rush to Astalios's side. Being that he was all she knew, and trusted fondly, it would have made perfect sense to want to hide behind the prince at a moment such as this. In the young womans eyes, perhaps Astalios would see how they screamed for him so helplessly. Nevertheless, no words came from her silent stares. It was only when Delsandra had made her way cautiously to the Grandmistress's side that Caleesi felt a sense of safety- being that of a woman, that is. Scarleth always found security in the feminine nature of other elven women, mainly because they all reminded her of her mother. There was nothing any male would ever be able to do for her in terms of comfort, even if she trusted them. Shifting her worried gaze over towards the eladrin, Cali searched the woman's beaming eyes for help or understanding. \"I-I'm fine... That man- He...\" Cutting herself off, Caleesi took another sharp look around the area. Not wanting to speak on behalf of the vampire should he still lurk the castle walls. \n_ _\n\nAnd as the princess retrieved some water for her, offering her the glass.. All Cali could do was pull herself closer towards Delsandra, reaching ever so gently as she took her hand and used her magic to speak into her mind.*\"That Vampire was here... Something is not right about him, Your Highness...\"*\n||"
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*At first, Astalios's mouth opened halfway, unsure as to what to really say - but as the look of horror on her face, those eyes pleading for help, called out in silent terror, he could do nothing but place a gentle, steadying hand on her shoulder, making sure to warm the metal a little so as not to make her shiver. There was such a manner about her as to make him wonder - perhaps that cane... Yes, he hadn't known she had been here all along. He could not sense the jewelry she wore, for she chose to wear none, and slipped beyond the unseen sight he usually could bring to bear. But the cane and jewelry he knew had been here, and the puzzle pieces clicked into place one after the other as he tried to make sure she was as comfortable as possible.\n\nDelsandra, he noted, was somewhat more caring than he had previously thought her to be - and the respect with which she treated Caleesi assuaged some of his worries about her. Regardless, it was time to be that steadying influence.*\n\n\"You are among friends.\" *It was a simple statement, sure, but the voice that carried it spoke with a concern and kindness that was seldom reserved for anyone besides the civilians of the Western border, those that had suffered tragedies, and the men under his command. Though enemies deserved contempt, allies and friends deserved the mercy they were due, and this was a time of some need.* \"Speak freely, and do not worry of consequences.\"\n\n*There was no need for a political nature to the words, nor anything held back. This was a friend, and a countryman under the protection of the crown - she could speak her mind as she wished, under the shield of the crown. In the castle grounds, the half-elf's eyes carried the same hue in the firelight of Delsandra's presence as the brown stone of a hearth, warm and comforting, where a meal might be had over a long wooden table.*"
},
{
"author": "uss_yorktown",
"message": "|| Sorry about length"
},
{
"author": "The Tale Weaver",
"message": "Without much warning, a loud whistle could be heard coming from the castle. It grew silent once more before finally a loud BOOM shook glasses, rattled windows and caused a cascade of bright blue to wash over the patrons of the Thunder Festival. It would seem the show had begun. The fireworks were slow and few at first, the colors ranging from blue to red to yellow, basic colors all would know. As it carried on, the colors began to grow more complex, alongside the shapes of the fireworks themselves. Purples, golds, whites even blasted their way across the sky behind the castle's outline, lighting up the sky and filling it with thunder just as it was named after. The shapes ranged from circles to stars before more specific shapes began to form.\n\nThe first was a sun, followed by a large blue moon that seemed to chase the sun away, an obvious nod to Lunam and Solaris, with their never ending game of tag. Smaller fireworks representing stars then filled the sky, comets and shooting stars flying across the sky. A loud whistle seemed to grow and then die down each time one zoomed over the cosmos, before the next portion of the show began. Suddenly, wings of pure gold began to flap slow and sure, like the wings of an angel. They began to fly and soar through the sky, before flying straight up and slowly dispersing in a fiery flame and explosion. The third portion then began after a few moments, and was a depiction of angels fighting demons, likely a recreation of the Siege of Calamity; a war between Ulmos and Kamara. Red demons clashed with golden and white angels, the booms almost sounding like the clashing of steel with steel. Eventually, one angel stood victorious, a massive golden angel with wings of pure white; likely the aasimar the month of Genvlir.\n\n_ _\nThe fourth portion began after a while, a collection of each kingdom's colors and symbol. First, the blue and white of Findara depicted through a flying osprey, the whistle of the firework almost sounding like the aforementioned birds call. Next, a large crowned gold and black stag, that stood on all fours before rearing and throwing its head back. Suddenly a glorious light began to grow from the stags crown, before it was entirely replaced by Khisfire's orange and red symbol. Blazing and burning like the sun above, a white stallion with purple filagree burst through it and reared just like the stag, the symbol of Thyseer. The next was a massive white bear, crowned with gold and blood red eyes. It reared as well, slashing at the air with its massive paws. The white of the bear's fur soon began to dull before the animal shifted into that of Lazaroth's wolf, dark grey with red eyes. Howling, it almost sounded like a real and true wolf. Behind it rose a triton, along with a storm as the wolf faded away, representing the triton and mermaids of Tritetheas. Soon, the sky turned black once more, before the grand finale began.\n\nDragons of red, grey, blue, white and gold soon filled the sky, flying and spewing various elements from their mouths. The crowds began to gasp, almost in a combination of fear and amazement before what looked like dwarves and other humanoids appeared on the other end of the sky. Raising their swords and flags up high, the two forces began to clash. Human and dragon fighting one another in a glorious battle, before finally a bolt of pure white struck one of the flying terrors. Soon enough, the rest of the dragons began to fade before various men stood together. The fireworks made sounds like shouts of victory, before finally one last explosion ended the show. \n\nThunder Fest was over."
}
] | 641 | 3,816 |
735.25 | 2022-07-26 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel",
"message": "Frowning rather heavily, Delsandra eyed the prince worriedly before looking back to Caleesi. Looking around for whoever the woman was talking about, the princess shook her head, unsure what to do or say. Without much warning, Caleesi's voice popped into the princesses head, causing her eyes to widen. *So it was Lord Olagwyen.* Shaking her head slighly, she gave an apologetic look to Caleesi before turning to the prince. \"I fear Lord Olagwyen has shaken Lady Scarleth in some way. We must find him at once. Guard!\" Calling over a guard clad in Findara's colors, the princess let out a angered huff, those eyes blazing like two individual suns. The armored man stood at attention before the princess, *\"Yes, your highness?\"* Delsandra replied, \"You are to find Lord Lysanthir Olagwyen immediately and bring him to us.\" Without any protests, the guard nodded and turned, walking away to find the vampire. Delsandra turned back to Astalios, her eyes like embers. \"I cannot believe that vile creature would do anything to Lady Scarleth. He must be brought to justice immediately.\"\n\n_ _\nDelsandra didn't believe he would try anything at all on anyone. After all, he could very well cause immense problems for his kingdom in doing so. Shaking her head in anger, the conversation was soon interrupted by a loud whistle, followed by the explosion of the first firework. Delsandra jumped ever so slightly, not expecting it, which only caused her to sigh in frustration. Unable to help herself, Delsandra looked up at the glorious display before them, but that sense of dread in her chest remained. What did the vampire do to Caleesi? Did he feel her up, perhaps threaten to drink her blood? Did he know of how her parents had perished and chose to toy with her? It made the princesses blood boil, but she could only imagine how Astalios was feeling about it all.\n\nThe explosions overhead never seemed to end, and while she wanted nothing more than to admire and appreciate them, the matter before them was much more pressing."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "***\"BELAY THAT ORDER.\"*** *His voice barked out, commanding and solid, stopping the guard before he could fully walk out of earshot.* \"You are not to bring him to us. That would only exacerbate the situation. Do nothing, and if you must do something, make sure this balcony is ours alone.\"\n\n*He wondered, sometimes, whether Delsandra really knew how to take care of people, and why she thought bringing the man back was going to help at the current moment in getting any information out of Lady Scarleth mystified him.*\n\n\"My apologies, your highness, but we have not heard anything yet. If we do hear something prosecutable, we shall deal with it in a more discreet manner.\" *His speech was pointed, and his gaze lingered between her and the lady in question, trying to point out without saying it that bringing back the person who had just done something to Lady Scarleth was a terrible idea while Lady Scarleth was standing in front of them, terrified out of her mind.\n\nThat being said, he wanted to hear the truth as much as anyone else. He was close to the point of anger, but needed to actually hear what had happened before jumping to conclusions and possibly creating a larger mess than they had already been in. It was not going to help if they made assumptions and ended up creating a diplomatic incident. Of course, should anything be seriously wrong, the diplomatic incident would already be created, at which point they were no longer the offending parties, and could freely bring down recompense upon the Master of Laws.*\n\n\"My apologies, Lady Scarleth. He won't be back any time soon.\" *Astalios's teeth ground against his palate as he took the time to slow things down, even though it was very tempting to jump to conclusions.\n\nWhat the lady needed was calm.*"
},
{
"author": "Caleesi | Grandmaster of Magic",
"message": "Perhaps in-trusting strangers, regardless of their royal status, was something Caleesi still needed to learn. Princess Delsandra had a way about her that soothed the nerves of startled souls if only for the moment. Her touch was warm, soft, and Lady Scarleth had fallen so deeply into it. She completely disregarded the idea that opening her mouth- or more so, *Her mind*- would cause issues such as the persecution of Lysanthir. Just as Caleesi had calmed her breathing, and felt grounded to her surroundings once more, Delsandra's sudden change of heart made the high elf's stomach drop. Her mouth flung open in a stammer, trying to bud in before the princess had already started collecting Findarian guards to hunt down the vampire. It was at that moment that the grandmistress truly began to ponder over if Lord Olagwyen truly derived this kind of public punishment... \n\n*The way he looked at her... He seemed so distraught, so heavily broken.*\n\nDid he *Really* Deserve to be brought to justice over intimidating her? Part of Caleesi screamed yes. Of course he did- Why would he not? It was the one thing the elven woman stood for over all else. Justice against the foul creatures that were men with pointy teeth and a need for dominance. However... For the first time in the young woman's life she started to wonder if the same truly categorized that of Lord Olagwyen. He was derailing, that was for certain. His movements made nothing more than a stable for fear and intimidation. Yet when he took in the sight of the sorceress? There was nothing scary or harmful about it. All of it only further proving her conflicting feelings as to why he shouldn't be pursued. \n_ _\n\n\"N-No!\" Cali finally cried out, her eyes darting between the princess and the knight as he was already stomping off in hot pursuit. During the time Scarleths voice rang out from her throat, the scream of fireworks pierced the sky. Stopping the group's conversation completely until the clashing color show was over. Cali did watch it all as it happened, not to disrespect the severity of the topic at hand- but mainly because this *Was* What they came to see. Her crystal blue eyes held each color gently within her dilating pupils, silently in awe of just how magical and surreal every picture and symbol was brought to life. She even wondered if the vampire was watching it too somewhere... Enjoying what Findara peacefully had to offer, no matter who or what a person was. \n\nWhen Astalios stopped the guards from their orders, the tight air cramping within Cali's chest seemingly released with relief. She appreciated the level-headedness about him, and knew that he understood the severity of a situation that wasn't as big as it was being made out to be. Dipping her head in respect towards the prince, Lady Scarleth slowly moved her arms behind her back before she spoke again. Hoping no one would notice the light ring of red imprints along her wrist... \n\n\"Just leave him be, *Please.*\" Caleesi's voice finally murmured as the last and final explosion hit. She settled her gaze on no place in particular- mainly hovering back and forth between that of the prince and princess as she spoke softly. \"I am not hurt, just startled. I... Do not know what Lord Olagwyen's intentions were with me but... He just- *Appeared* Out of nowhere when i thought i was alone..\" As the high elf spoke, she felt more and more guilty for explaining something she felt was too personal. Regardless if what the High Lord did was wrong, Caleesi knew that it was not fully her story to share. And because of that nagging feeling, she found herself withholding the important information.\n\nPausing a moment, the young woman shook her head quickly as she tried to switch the topic. Hoping no one would ask any more questions on the topic, especially if it meant that Lysanthir would be looked into about it. \n_ _\n\n\"But it does not matter, you are here now and i don't think he will be back any time soon.\" Raising her now firm hand towards the sky to signal Thunderfest was indeed over, Cali offered a gentle and honest half smile as if to calm those around her. \"Thunderfest has ended, and I'm sure the Lawmaster is far on his way back to Lazaroth by now, right? Let us just enjoy the rest of the night before the rest of us venture home. I deeply apologize for startling you all,\" Wavering her sights closer towards the two, Scarleth spoke quieter through her teeth, hoping she wouldn't step out of line with her words. \"But perhaps next time there will be far more security within events. If guests do not feel safe stepping out for a breath of fresh air, no matter the cause, I fear that will only cause more discourse for gatherings like these...\"\n||"
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*The reactions of Lady Scarleth proved to him further that he had made the right decision in choosing to stop the hasty call-back of the Master of Laws. For all the passion that Delsandra could bring to bear, he found she had a nasty habit of not thinking things all the way through. A quick and cold mind was the greatest advantage in times of stress. While the conditions of the time could obfuscate the reactions of those who could not stay steady, an analytical look at the circumstances benefited everyone. \n\nFirstly, Lady Scarleth was terrified, yes, but unharmed, as far as he could tell, and her words corroborated that reality. Her skin showed no sign of any wounds, and as she held her hands behind her back, she seemed no more than terrified. Furthermore, her response in calling out a firm 'no' to the guards meant that she believed the issue could be taken care of without their help, which he happened to agree with.\n\nSecondly, it was hard to come up with solid evidence for a prosecutable crime if what few details she had given them were true - that he had startled her, and she had not been hurt. Scaring someone was not a crime, or else every childhood prankster who happened to put a spider in a jar to scare their little sister would be arrested. If something further had happened, it would have been a different story, but this meant...\n\nThat the issue here was not Olagwyen's sudden appearance, which was strange, but not criminal. It was the way Caleesi felt, how scared she truly had been, and the interruption of her respite from being reminded of her parents' death by the very stimulus that had caused her to need the respite in the first place. It was bad business, and certainly very unpleasant for Lady Scarleth.\n\nHe inhaled, air flowing through his lungs like the tides coming in and going out once more, as the glow of the fireworks lit his face with flashing colors. He did not spare a moment to look - there was more pressing business to be dealt with.*\n\n_ _\n*Why see fireworks when there was work to be done? As the lights illuminated the lines of his brow, he waited patiently for the two ladies to finish watching - which he supposed was a blessing in itself - that it was not serious enough for them to ignore the firework show. No symbolism needed to reach his eyes.\n\nWhen they finished, and the conversation resumed, he found himself listening well to the advice of Lady Scarleth. Enjoy the rest of the night, she said - but he could not help but think this was some deflection, an attempt to be more aloof than she really was, to stabilize herself with a facade built on fabricated words and polite overtures. It was a tendency he was recognizing more and more in his court. To a degree, it was selflessness, but he wondered whether she might let them know how best to help - it was not going to improve the situation if she said nothing.*\n\n\"If... That is what you wish, we shall.\" *A hesitant reply from the prince met the assurance that they should enjoy the festival still with skepticism. But the next sentence, the statement of security - that was a problem he could fix.\n\nHe reached into a side pouch on his belt, a small mass of coins placing themselves neatly into the palm of his gauntlet. They liquefied with a thought, the copper and tin and silver and gold melding into the rivulets of mercury that dripped from his hand and reformed, coalescing into a small shape that rested upon the steel with legs sturdily placed. The figure of a small stag, which quickly solidified once more into a figurine of pure silver, untarnished and freshly made. He concentrated for a moment, small designs marking their way around the miniscule body of the stag until they once more faded back into the metal - now a familiar enchanted tool, one that Astalios used constantly.\n\nHis hand outstretched, and he laid the stag gently into the fingers of Caleesi.* \"Frankly, I am somewhat ashamed that you did not have one of these already.\"\n\n_ _\n*Were she to identify the spells placed on the stag, three enchantments worked in tandem to make this a useful tool of protection. Firstly, the reaction with a coin his guardsmen carried, each captain equipped to recognize the mark of the prince. Secondly, the reaction of the stag to intercept a blow or a strike or projectile coming in fast at her body, drawn to the intercept point by magic, and forming itself into a small deflective shield.\n\nAnd thirdly, a call to the master device, a link to the armor of Astalios himself. Messages pressed into thought by the user of this particular stag would appear on the palm of his gauntlet in writing should they choose to make use of it.*\n\n\"I cannot post a guard on a foreign diplomat, but I can make sure that you go about with some level of protection.\" *It was a quick call if she was in danger, and a protective spell if words were no longer working.* \"This and a guard complement may help.\""
}
] | 749 | 2,941 |
1,018.6 | 2022-02-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Princess Nala Samir",
"message": "It wasn't too terribly long before the doors within the dining hall would breathe life once more to greet its second guest. While the guards listed off the arrival of what they *Thought* Would be the Khisfire queen herself, both the king and prince would be greeted with a much more younger face. But one that held maturity and poise nonetheless. Nala Samir, the youngest within her family tree, was strutting into the scene with her head held high- donning a very elegant black slip dress that swayed along with golden clipped shoulder silks; almost like that of a cape. Embroidered with respective Khisfire emblems, this newly found adolescence looked as if she was far beyond her years. Instead of keeping her *Very* Long hair down and braided, the half elf opted for a much more neat bun that was relaxed on the back of her head. Low enough to brush the back of her neck but elegant enough to be seen within the royal's eyes. Atop her raven hair sat a slim and decorative crown fit for that of a princess.\n\nNala was a fairly small girl. Of course that was only because of her age, but looks can be deceiving. Because although Samir had carried herself highly into the room- allowing her atmosphere to be strongly known- There was an internal struggle she had with herself. It hadn't even been three whole days before the exile of her only guard, Hark. And Nala was sure that the news of an assassin within the kingdom would have been spread to all the others by now. Which not only made *Her* Look bad, but her kingdom as well. Even so, the young girl's heart was nowhere close to healing. However she musnt show any signs of weakness. At least, that's what her mother told her. \n.\n\nThose bright emerald eyes rested methodically within her skull, and soon, a sweet smile pursed between her dimpled cheek as the princess gave a gracious bow. \"Greetings, Your majesty. I apologize for my sudden arrival. My mother insisted I go in her place to gain experience and knowledge in royal encounters...\" Locking her eyes with the King, Nala lifted her chin in sincerity, \"... Though I promise this has not been my first, and I hope you will treat me with the same expectations as the other guests coming tonight.\" Before the princess could finish her statement, the low sound of reverberating growls rang the ears of all present within the room. Emerging from the door, were two **Massive** Tigers that soon fled to each side of Samir. These were no normal animals, as their size was unnaturally larger than that of a normal tiger. But one in particular stood out from the other given its odd markings. A crescent shaped moon cupped the forehead of the white and chocolate brown female, and once through the doors, magic shimmered within her fur- causing the doors to gently close behind them. \n.\n\n\"Oh- And these... Are my stand in guards. Kashi and Qamar.\" Nala said, resting each of her hands upon their heads as she offered a weary smile. \"I promise they are well behaved, your majesty, you won't even know they are here.\" Trying not to ramble on, the princess silently dipped her head and made her way over towards the dinner table. As she passed Prince Asalios, Nala was sure to greet him too. And did so much more hushly when she found a palace to sit by his side- though left a chair between them for good measure. Qamar on the other hand, found herself sniffing around the royals armor before letting out a quiet \"*Hfff* Of noisey greeting. She was quite the explorer, and sociable pet. Yet still made her way next to her princess and lied down with no more than a loud huff. Nala trained her eyes around the table, taking in all the beautiful decor and plethora of dishes scattered neatly along the blue trim. It as *Alot* To say the least. However, nothing Nala herself wasn't used to in her own kingdom. \n\n\n\n\"This place is very beautiful, King Zarreus. Thank you again for being so welcoming...\" Folding her hands gracefully within her lap, Samir hesitated a moment before asking, \"Do you know who all is coming? If I may ask, that is...\""
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "*There is a red and black castle that sits high on stone walls. Inside is a tempest that defies and rules all. With his battleax and army, he will conquer everything. Be afraid, obey, and bow to the Bear King.*\n\nYet again, the massive doors to the castle's dining hall opened once more, but rather than a man, a massive white bear standing on two legs stood beneath the frame of the doorway. A black and red crown with gold filigree adorned his furry white head, and before fully stepping into the hall, the bear king allowed the announcer to speak his name and title. \"*Now presenting his majesty, King Alyus Archaius of Gantrick.*\" Stepping into the hall, Alyus glanced over the decorations of the castle, his nose moving gently to get a good smell and listen to his surroundings. No guards accompanied the king, but a massive black and red battleax rested along his back, an obvious sign that he was more than prepared to defend himself should the need arise.\n\nDressed in Gantrick's colors, the king wore armor rather than a classy outfit. Black and red, like everything else, a massive and enchanted breastplate stretched to fit his 10 foot tall figure, at least while in his polar bear form. The sigil of his kingdom adorned the breastplate, a bear with a golden crown. Stomping his way along, it was obvious his form was a show of strength and pride, as he was proud of what he was; a bear king. Following behind Alyus was a second massive form; his pet chimera Vetur. Three heads and a snake-like tail peered out behind the king, its own noses smelling the air and each head glancing around at each present individual. One a polar bear just like Alyus, and the other two an owl and white panther of sorts. Stomping along, Vetur found a nice corner to sit in and laid down, just as the princesses tigers had done.\n.\n\nAs Alyus neared the table, he glanced over the three already sat at the table, his eyes first landing on King Zarreus. Noting the horns and figure of the king, Alyus did nothing more than dip his head in respect, while swallowing the harsh words he wished to spew at each of them for mistakes they didn't even make. Eyeing the two younger individuals in the middle of the large table, Alyus raised a brow. Neither were a king or queen, as Alyus knew their parents all too well. He offered neither the same dip of his head, but instead fixated his eyes back onto King Zarreus. Alyus waited to speak for a long moment, as he was mentally preparing for the inevitable struggle with his own anger and hatred toward each of the other kingdoms.\n\nSo long ago, his mother had perished at the hands of his father and former king, King Alaric Archaius, alongside his own brother Godwin. The two had gone mad and ruined the life Alyus had been living, and rushed him into the throne without nearly any preparation, as Godwin was first in line and had received all the training Alyus had not. Of course, while his mother was on her deathbed, Alyus had reached out to each of the kingdoms and royal families, meaning the parents of each of the other royals present at this dinner. Astalios's mother and father, Nala's mother and father, and even Zarreus's ignored Alyus' cries for help. A sour taste was left in the bear king's mouth, but he couldn't be angry at any of them, no matter how much he wished to. Alaric Archaius had broken ties with the other kingdoms, making it impossible to fix in such a dire time of need when his mother was dying.\n.\n\nWith a huff, Alyus took a seat, though there was a slight worry it'd break beneath his monstrous weight. Ensuring it wouldn't, he rested in the chair and once again eyed the prince and princess sitting near him, though his words carried across the table in a large boom toward King Zarreus. \"Thank you for the invitation your majesty, though I thought it would be king and queens, not princes and princesses I'd be dining with.\" While it wasn't a direct jab, it was obvious Alyus was a bit confused at Nala and Astalios's presence. Things happen, he understood that, but part of him wished to hear each of Khisfire and Alynthi's royals to apologize to him for his mother's death, even if it wasn't truly their fault she was dying in the first place. Damn his father to hell, where Alyus knew in his heart the bastard resides to this day, alongside Godwin. Call it a vendetta or even a childish way of thinking, but someone needed to answer for it all, at least in Alyus's mind they did.\n\n\"I am curious, King Zarreus, why of all people you'd ask me to help you in the death of King and Queen Meshoon. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's mulled over the possibility of the blame being thrown my way. It was after all they who turned their backs on me, alongside others not present here today.\" Alyus's pointed question was a bit insincere, but he had every reason and right to ask. It made more than basic sense to point fingers at him. He was a vengeful individual, and rumors of the vicious bear king were neverending. Alyus was an iron fisted ruler, and an unforgiving one at that. Though if Zarreus did blame Gantrick, he doubted he'd invite other royal to witness their *Attempted* Arrest of King Alyus. Scoffing a bit at his thoughts, a smirk rested on his lips at the thought of them even trying to come close to him, let alone arresting him.\n.\n\nRunning a paw-like hand beneath his chin, Alyus waited for the fellow king's response, and took a moment to look over Nala and Astalios once more. The first word that came to mind when looking over the princess was 'puny'. As for Astalios, his strong look made Alyus think of nothing more than 'cocky'. Both had never met Alyus and vice versa, but had no doubt heard the same stories of him and his family's history of being cruel and vicious. Alyus's crystal blue eyes peered back over to Zarreus, before a large paw came up and rested beneath his chin, a patient look on his face. *This would be interesting, indeed.*"
},
{
"author": "King Zarreus",
"message": "Zarreus felt a wave of confidence surge through himself as his royal guard declared the name of his first arrival. The impatience and anxiety washed away in but a moment as all uncertainty left his expression, and gave to for stern calculation. Those bright yellow eyes felt almost piercing with such a focused expression, as though he were a demon attempting to peer into ones very soul. An image accented by the large, waved horns and ash-red skin. A look that his father Mavreus always told him made him look just like his mother. Though, he would never state which.\n\nAs Astalios entered the room, that prodding stare fell upon him. Reading everything he could upon the Prince's posture and expression. *Rugged... Built. Perhaps a to- no. Personality, Zarreus, read his _character_.* The Mystic King's internal monologue mused, as he refocused. The man walked stiffly. Attempting a show of militaristic might, perhaps? Send the young warrior prince in his prime, alone. Clever. He certainly did well to present an air of power. A smirk found itself crawling along the corner of his mouth. His smooth and elegant tone filled the hall after the prince's greetings were spoken. \"Thank *You*, your highness, for gracing my court with Alynthi's representation. Please, have a seat.\"\n.\n\nIt wasn't but a moment later that the next announcement began. He had not seen the Queen of Khisfire in over a decade. The prospect of her getting to see him fully grown after all this time was exciting. Though the excitement was expertly concealed under his well-practiced 'kingly' look. Imagine his shock, however, when instead of the queen of Khisfire, the *Princess* Nala emerged through his doors. As much as this caught him off guard, what really caused him to break was the emergence of two massive tigers that accompanied her. Just behind them, a bunch of very embarrassed looking royal guards stood wide-eyed. Hoping this would not lose them their jobs. Zarreus was visibly flustered at the sight, and sensing her master's discomfort, Cinder stood at attention on his shoulders. Staring down the beasts as they approached the table alongside the Khisfire royal.\n\n\nWhen she finished her greeting, and much needed explanation, the King found a moment to compose himself, and his intense yellow orbs focused right in on Nala. \"I understand you are young and learning, *Princess Nala*.\" Intentionally, he left some formality out of his wording, looking to bring light to the gravity of what had been done. \"But these are the kind of changes that I should be **Notified of.** What if one of my guards had panicked and struck you? What if one of your animals had assaulted my men?\" He furrowed his brow and leaned forward. Emphasizing his displeasure. \"Formality is in place for a *Reason*, your Highness. Wars have been started for less. At the very least, ensure that I am aware you'll be bringing massive beasts into my **Dining hall**. This will be written off as youthful misguidedness this once, so please, be seated, and absorb what I have told you.\"\n.\n\nHe sighed softly. Zarreus was thankful that hadn't gone poorly. As the princess found her seat, and asked him of who else was arriving, he responded quickly. Wishing to get on to other subjects. \"One more will be arriving to join us. You'll simply have to wait for the surprise.\"\n\n\nHe did not speak again for a while. Choosing to rest his focus on what was sure to be the most grandiose entrance yet. He had not yet met King Alyus, but he'd heard plenty of his intimidating nature, and was very well acquainted with his family history. He figured it may be a long shot, but establishing a decent relation with Gantrick via this dinner would most certainly be a bonus. As the royal guard stated the name and title, Zarreus kept his attention on the large doors as they opened to reveal a hulking figure. A polar bear Shapeshifter, and an iron fisted ruler. Much like Astalios, he seemed here to make his presence known. Not entirely unexpected.\n\n\nKing Zarreus did not react this time when the beast entered the door. Though many of the guards present in the room were getting nervous at the growing presence of large magical animals. The arrival was anticipated, however, and there was no additional shock for the poor soldiers. Only whispers were exchanged to one another as the Bear King made his way forward and greeted Zarreus.\n.\n\n\"I thank you for answering my call, your Majesty. I know it may be a bit awkward with royals in training, but the next generation must be taught *Somehow*.\" He flicked a look to Nala before recentering his eyes with Alyus'. \"Please, take a seat of your choice.\"\n\n\nThe King of Ganktrick's next question was certainly down to business, that much was true. Even though it was years ago, the subject of his parent's deaths was still not a comfortable one for the tiefling King. Somberness grew on his face for a moment before he choked it back to answer Alyus with a clear tone.\n\n\n\"Far be it for me to drop the sins of the elders on the current king just because he bears the same name. King Alyus, I reached out to you to prove that I don't share those same preconceived notions. I think you never got given a fair shot due to your birthright, and I do hope you'll take this as a sign that names mean nothing to me. Actions do.\" He leaned back in his seat, and looked to one of the knights lining the wall. \"Sir Ver, please let the cooks know all guests are accounted for, and we're ready for the meals.\"\n\n\n*\"Right away, your Majesty\"* The guard stated, before leaving in a hurry through a side door, presumably leading toward the kitchen."
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "*The visage of Zarreus was quite different than reports would otherwise have indicated. At the table, he was deadly serious - at least, for a moment. Astalios's eyes caught the smirk making its way across his face, and confirmed that at least for the moment, he was amused. It was easy to see what he intended to project, and perhaps that was being received differently than he would have liked. There was more than military power to Alynthi, surely - and his father and mother were living proof. \n\nHe did, however, feel a little out of his depth, though that was shown in no discernible way but in his thoughts. His face remained calm, and his steps remained confident and steady as he made his way to the table and took his place near the head. Conversation, after all, was impossible when one had to shout over the length of a festhall. Much better to actually be able to hear each other.* \"My thanks.\" *He replied as he positioned himself for the next arrival.*\n\n*Strutting with head held high into the room was the princess of Khisfire, with two animals. There was a lack of decorum in the appearance of a princess as opposed to a queen that Astalios thought to himself would be picked up on - especially when a queen was announced in her place. The animals, as well, were unusual, and perhaps she had misplayed her hand in admitting a lack of experience with political situations - Astalios's own inexperience in diplomacy was carefully hidden. All it took was a word or two before respect was lost, and perhaps she had done so.*\n\n\"Your highness.\" *He acknowledged her as she came in through the door, as was proper, and ignored the tiger that was sniffing around at his armor. For all intents and purposes, it might not have even been there. He was not at the table to dine with tigers, and though they might have been the princess's guards, he was not there to converse with any of King Zarreus's guards, either. He did rather like the guards in most cases...*\n\n_ _\n*But this was a dinner, and not a barracks. Certain protocol had to be observed - and perhaps he'd talk to the soldiers later, after the diplomacy was finished. The measure of a man was often in how others saw him, especially those close enough to see his conduct day in and day out. The Findaran guards would be very helpful to talk to, he mused, very helpful indeed.*\n\n*His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of King Alyus, whose temperament was perhaps unsurprisingly as bitterly cold as his kingdom. He betrayed no change in expression, and only an observant eye from the prince to the king was any indication of curiosity. His words dripped with venom and tragedy, and he might have perhaps been more aptly named the Adder King for the way he spoke. Lip service to protocol, none of the respect that was appropriate to display. He was used to getting his way with no opposition. That was no reason to give him an excuse to lash out, however, and while Astalios's head did not dip, he did speak.*\n\n\"Your Majesties, this meeting is quite likely to be the norm in the future. Experience with us will serve you well for the years to come.\" *His voice was deep, confident, and measured, every word carefully placed. There was steel behind his speech. Muddy brown eyes stared back into crystal blue and deep yellow, a reminder that flash was not needed for substance. It was a polite reminder that they were not simply to be dismissed because their station was not yet quite equal to Zarreus or Alyus's own. The fact remained that they were going to be the leaders of their kingdoms, and with that came the weight of diplomacy.*"
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "\"I agree with that. Actions speak much louder than any words. I am sorry for your loss nonetheless, as I can sympathize with you more than anyone I'm sure you know. My father was a bastard and I know in my heart he's where he belongs. Whether your mother and father did the right thing is not for me to decide. Findara is a prosperous and beautiful kingdom, and as hard as it is for me to swallow I cannot judge a soul off a single action, no matter how much I want to.\" With a pause, Alyus let out a gentle sigh and ran a paw over his chin, scratching it lightly. There was weight behind his words, as he was essentially offering peace between Findara and Gantrick. His heart ached, and wished to lash out at everyone present, but he couldn't afford it. Alyus would have to get over it soon. \"Nevertheless, I am here to listen and extend a hand should I be in a position to offer it. All things considered, I can't see why I wouldn't be.\"\n\nWatching as Astalios and Nala remained quiet for the majority of the conversation, Alyus perked his ears toward the prince when he finally opened his mouth. While the king's expression remained rather empty, Alyus had a rising feeling in his chest that Astalios would prove to be a hard one to crack. He knew of his campaigning and experience on the field, something Alyus truly lacked. No one had been at war with Gantrick in a long time, long before his station as king. It felt like a thorn in his side, and while Astalios was a year younger than Alyus, all the bear king could see in the prince was his late older brother Godwin. Cocky and sure of himself. The future would be interesting, especially when Astalios would inevitably be named king. \"I heard of the announcement, prince. Looking for a future queen is no small feat.\"\n.\n\nAlyus himself had yet to find a queen, something his court reminded him of at each meeting. Each time, Alyus brushed the notion aside. Of course, that came the discussion of producing an heir, but there was fear in finding a woman and having a child. What if he ended up like his father, mad with power and murder his family? It was quite the irrational fear, but trauma is a bitch. Shaking the thought from his mind, Alyus noticed the princesses' silence. Choosing not to comment, King Alyus had no interest in Khisfire anyways. While an ally in between two potential enemies may be quite beneficial, Khisfire was filled with thieves, murderers and liars. At least Gantrick was more public about its atrocities. Khisfire only seemed to cover theirs up. Noticing not only Thyseer's royals were absent, it didn't come as a surprise that the dark elves in Lazaroth weren't present either.\n\n*Damned dark elves.* A selfish bunch, in Alyus's eyes. Choosing not to comment too much on it, Alyus rested back in his chair. There was an expression of deep thought on the bear king's face, almost as if he were dying to know King Zarreus's plan of action to solve the murder of his parents. Many thoughts had come into Alyus's mind, one being the Sisterhood. Murder of a king and queen both was nothing to scoff at, and not many could pull something so dangerous and public off. No one but the Sisterhood of Salvation. No one knew of their location or who was a member, making them impossible to pin down. Before suggesting potential suspects however, Alyus would allow Zarreus to speak on the subject."
}
] | 899 | 5,093 |
708.333333 | 2022-02-16 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "King Zarreus",
"message": "\"Your Majesty King Alyus, know that your words don't go unheard or unappreciated. I wish the best for all in my current predicament, and you've granted me a great deal of reassurance.\" Zarreus felt a wave of relief run through him. Of everyone at this meeting, he was the most concerned by Alyus. A wildcard, to be certain. Though he was much like any other royal at the end of the day, seeking what was best for his own goals and kingdom, even if it meant placing his personal doubts aside. A trait the Mystic King could respect in any Monarch.\n\n\nHis focus was drawn back away from conversation with Alyus by Prince Astalios, who voiced his concern with being brushed off. Zarreus nodded to him as he finished, and awaited Alyus to finish speaking before chiming in himself. \"Well spoken, your Highness. Allow me to offer my well wishes in your hunt for a wife. In my experience, women can be... Tricky, so try not to let yourself get sucked into temptation.\"\n.\n\nHe cleared his throat, and continued speaking. Addressing the room this time. \"And in the interest of keeping this official, allow me to speak to all of you as equal representatives and lay my proposition on the table. As I'm sure you've heard, my predecessors, King Mavreus and Queen Shedna Meshoon, met an untimely end at the hands of assassins. Ones that managed to bypass the magical traps, the royal guard, and the alarm spells set by our finest royal mages. To call this act anything but a genius execution would not have done it justice. I'm willing to offer mages from my Research and Development for New Magics department. They would remain under my employ, but the benefits of their research would be given to you first. As well as what those mages have already created. I've got examples if anyone needs some.\"\n\n\nHe let his eyes trail slowly from face to face as he spoke, gauging responses as best he could. \"In exchange, what I want is manpower. My mages and troops are busy where they're at, and those I *Have* Pulled away to look into it found nothing. The only evidence I've been able to keep is this.\" He reached back into his cloak and removed a roll of burnt black cloth the length of his forearm, which unraveled into an uneven shape as he rolled it along the tablecloth. In the center of the fabric was an embossed symbol, which looked like a half-lidded drowsy eye. Bundled within the fabric was a small glass vial full of ash. As the cloth was shown to the other royals present, servants began to bring in the meal for the evening, a colorful arrangement of foods local to the area were brought out for the royalty to eat at their leisure as they spoke. Quite a few fish dishes were on display.\n.\n\n\"Please, help yourselves to food, and think it over. Hunters, mercenaries, assassins... I need folk who are good at tracking. I need folk who are knowledgeable with magic, I need anything that can be spared.\""
},
{
"author": "Astalios, Iron Prince",
"message": "\"Thank you for your kind words, Your Majesties. Courting is not naturally within me, and considering the courtesans, at times it becomes difficult to discern their true motives in pursuing a relationship. Both of you have spoken great truth about the matter of marriage.\" *He nodded along quite genuinely. Though his response was of course chosen with a great deal of caution, it was complete truth. He was having quite a lot of difficulty in finding a woman to marry that wasn't simply after his title. Much of the court were quite nice people, but the allure of marrying a prince was not something many could resist.\n\nThe political developments unfolding at the table, however, looked promising. Gantrick had been rather isolated for quite some time, but if the King was offering his help in this matter, it signaled a positive turn in the relationships between countries. Alynthi was well defended, but he had always been wary of the northern border with Alyus's kingdom.\n\nHe sat back and thought for a long moment before speaking, though when he began, he was ready to unfold a few resources. His face was as cool and calm as it had been when they had been first introduced.* \n\n\"Your Majesty, I have as of late carried out an investigation of my own, of the assassination of a noble family. The masters of Lerwick. However, this was less subtly done, and I had a likely suspect from the start. It was a matter of needing evidence, rather than needing a direction. As to your request for manpower...\" \n_ _\n\n*He paused for the moment, unaware whether or not his fellow royals knew of his memberships in the scientific world.* \"I happened to be a somewhat accomplished researcher, a full member of the International Alchemist's Association. If it is magical or forensic help that you need, I know a few colleagues of mine that would be happy to help. As far as I can see, the greatest problem that we face is that we have no discernible lead on how the sisterhood of salvation got in. It's likely in cases like this that there is someone close to you whose loyalties lie elsewhere. Wards are easy to dismantle if you know their construction.\"\n_ _\n*He looked down at the piece of banner, or cloth, or whatever symbol was there. The ash, also, probably held some meaning.* \"If you would not mind, I may give this ash to The Alchemist's Association for analysis. We have stores of ash from different fuel being burned, and have comparison charts drawn up. An alchemical analysis will probably give us the material of what was burned. I would caution, however, that this seems entirely convenient. An assassin good enough to execute this plan is good enough to leave no trace. This is a quite definable trace.\"\n\n*The drowsy eye reminded him of the order of mage hands, but they were not an assassin guild. The eye was also an entirely different symbol. He wondered who had taken the time to execute this, and who these people were that were being ostensibly framed for the crime.* \"Perhaps you are meant to take some retaliation against whoever you find. It's a likely prospect, considering that grief is a powerful motivator. Of course, for now, this is only a theorem, but I think it is worth some thought.\" \n\n*Only then did he begin to survey the room for food, gesturing for a bit of roast beef and some pheasant. Venison had lately become a favorite of his, but there was none at the table at the moment. Perhaps he would have to go hunting with Roesia soon.*"
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "\"I must say I agree with Prince Astalios.\" Alyus sat forward a bit, examining the burnt cloth before a gentle snort escaped his nose, the scent of ash breaching his enhanced sense of smell. Leaning back in his chair, the bear king gestured with his hand and beckoned a servant over to pour him a drink. Offering the king's staff nothing more than gestures and nods, Alyus took a sniff of his wine, but whether or not he was testing for poison or getting a whiff of the year, one couldn't say. Taking a sip, Alyus placed the goblet down and let out a gentle sigh, continuing his thoughts as the smell of food tried its best to distract his train of thinking. \"Whether you wish to believe so or not, even those closest to you can turn on a dime.\" The king spared the royals present yet another reminder of his bastard father, but the look on his face shouted it nonetheless. The bear's crystal blue eyes scanned the cloth over yet again, his brows furrowing in thought.\n\nShould he be worrying as well? Was this all a plot to take down the kingdom's royals? Perhaps issue in a new age of lawlessness? No, that would be much too radical. Eyeing the food once more, the scent of fish was unmistakable. A favorite of the king. It was true the symbol King Zarreus had shown was nothing like the Sisterhood's. Perhaps it was a new group of cuthroats, even more dangerous than the aforementioned femme fetals. Though, the tiefling king's words of magical researchers being lent to his kingdom did cause Alyus's circular white ears to perk slightly. Such assistance could in fact aid his own pursuits, ones he had yet to share with anyone outside his most trusted advisors back in Gantrick; turning others into shapeshifters.\n.\n\nOf course, this idea and plot would be met with nothing but resistance, which is why Alyus simply had to play his cards right. Gain the knowledge of the most magically powerful kingdom, and in return spread the great bear king's will across the world right under the tiefling king's nose. He'd be aiding in the extinction of all races other than Alyus's own. The king smiled, bowed his head, and gave a look of gratitude and sheer satisfaction at Zarreus's offer. \"What a generous offer your majesty. Generous indeed. I must say, getting a look into Findara's pristine magical advancements is a luxury I simply *Cannot* Pass up.\" While Alyus gave nothing away in means of ulterior motives, the king's heart was pounding with excitement. *He was yet another step closer to his goal.* Alyus would have to discuss with his uncle about these new developments of course, but should everything go as planned, the world would quickly be beneath the bear king's claws.\n\nAlyus would simply have to rush things with his human prisoner, but if word got out of Feyre being held captive by the bear king, Zarreus would likely pull his agreement right back out of Alyus's grasp. Alynthi and Findara both would likely begin to snoop into Gantrick's motives of holding a human captive and under such heavy protection... This would be tricky. Taking an entire fish and downing it with nothing more than a few bites, Alyus wiped his mouth before speaking once more. \"I have quite a few skilled trackers I can offer. You simply cannot beat a shapeshifter's senses, King Zarreus.\""
}
] | 730 | 2,125 |
642.25 | 2022-06-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Kameros Szerabon",
"message": "At the time, Kameros was heading to an inn after shopping in the capital's marketplace. It was late, and with so much time on his hands the tiefling figured he'd restock some of the potions he had used from his most recent bounties. Checking his bag to make sure everything was there, a glow from the gem on his wrist caught the sorcerer's attention. Peering over, Kameros realized what it was. *Essme was wanting him to come to her.* Tilting his head a bit, Kam didn't realize how quickly she'd wish to see him again, but a faint lightness began to build in his chest at the thought. Closing his bag, the tiefling began to follow the gemstone's point, only to quickly realize he was headed toward the castle.\n\nBeing a tiefling and all, Kameros was nervous about wandering toward the castle this late at night. The closer he drew to its massive walls, the larger the pit in his stomach seemed to grow. Obviously Kam knew Essme was a royal guard for Findara, but he didn't realize that she likely stayed within the castle's walls. Feeling like an idiot, Kameros pressed on nevertheless, determined to get to his new friend to see what she may have needed. Being invited to a woman's supposed bedroom this late at night did have its implications of course, but this was just a friend going to see a friend and nothing more. At least not in Kam's mind.\n.\n\nAs terrifying as approaching a castle at night could have been, Kameros managed to dip past a very small amount of guards to get to a wing of the castle. It almost felt like a story he had read once, but the tiefling quickly realized as the jewel on his wrist pointed toward the wall, he'd have to scale it. Looking straight up, Kam realized there was a balcony so far up which was likely Essme's bedroom. With a sigh, a quick glance around and a prayer, Kameros began to quietly levitate himself. The farther up he got, the more nervous he became. What if someone saw him doing this? What would they think? Gods, he could be arrested for this, or worse, get Essme in trouble. Soon, his head was just a few feet from the bottom of the balcony, but before lifting himself up entirely, the tiefling stopped.\n\n*There was a fair chance this was **Not** Essme's bedroom.*\n\nMulling it over, Kameros cleared his throat. \"... Essme?\" The tiefling called out quietly. On the off chance someone else was inside the room, he could quickly hide under the balcony and stay as quiet as possible. If she *Was* Inside, then all would be well. \"Its Kameros.\""
},
{
"author": "Essme Faydel",
"message": "The cold breeze that only grew bitter by each minute nightfall grew, was now freezing over the inside of Essme's bedroom. During the time she spent sitting across from the tracker Kameros gave her was longer than the angel had expected. She was eyeballing it for quite some time in hopes it would turn off, or that the bounty hunter wouldn't possibly show his face here within the castle. Although, as time ticked on and no purple demon showed- Faydel assumed all was well. *Well*, as good as things could have been. Taking a deep sigh, the Aasimar pulled herself up from the floor one last time. Her pale white legs bruised a soft red from shards of glass and cold cement imprinting into her skin. Essme's weary eyes hovered over towards her bed where her bones were screaming for relief. Sleep could do her good right now, but knowing the poor girl's mental state, Em would be surprised to even get her eyes to close. \n\nAs she dragged her feet along the floor, and eventually lowered herself onto her empty bed, the angel's heavy wings simply gave way and lumped off the side- the larger part of her feathers drooping on the ground below. Silently, Faydel laid. Stiff as a board as her lifeless gray hues remained glued to a dark corner of the wall. That endless pit in her stomach only grew and grew each time she replied *Every* Word Winrae had knifed her with, resulting in more tears to leak from the wet sockets of her eyes. Only the Gods knew just how long Essme stayed like this, because in truth- she could have remained there forever. It wasn't a secret to anyone that when the sorcerer felt things... She felt them. *Hard.* Even so, this bomb that dropped on her head was one that no person or creature should go through.\n.\n\nSleep didn't seem to come, just like Em thought it wouldn't. As she laid there in mourning, silence enveloping all the corners of her mind, that damned sound of whirring magic still tickled her ears. For some reason.. It seemed to get louder, and louder... *And louder.* Twitching, Essme slowly turned her head upwards from her pillow, the sound of a low **Ahemn** Causing her brows to furrow as she focused her attention. \n\nAnd then... *Him.* \n\nFrom the balconies wide open space, meant for of course, larger bodies with wings to fit through- came flying a broken picture frame. It soared through the sky so fast that if it hit someone it would *Definitely* Be taking something off. Thankfully however for Kameros, he was down low enough to miss the object by a few centimeters. Buzzing as it blew past, silence lingered for a few moments before the echo of the broken frame could be heard **THUNK**Ing into a bush. \"Go away.\" Esseme whispered out in a haste yet weak tone. Part of her couldn't believe he even found her- let alone show up all this way. The other half however, was still trying to piece together how the tiefling managed to get past the castle guards. Then again.. Most of the outside staff were trainees.. Like her. \n\n\"I-I didn't mean to call for you.\" The angel mumbled. It was clear as day however, that in her voice she was biting back tears. Kam was a smart man no less, and while Essme was sure he could hear through her pathetic attempt to shoo him away, he wasn't the type to simply back down. More silence followed the stuffie nosed Aasimar before shuffling and scraping sounds of glass could be heard dragging the floor. Something was off. And Kameros knew it."
},
{
"author": "Kameros Szerabon",
"message": "Kameros had begun to raise himself slightly, but a sudden blurry object flying overhead caused him to duck beneath the balcony floor. He nearly began lowering himself when a famliliar but broken voice caught his ears. Frowning a bit, he raised himself up to the ledge before landing on the balcony itself. Any other being unable to see in the dark would be straining to see into the room, but tieflings didn't have that issue. Peering into the bedroom, Kameros' golden eyes quickly fell upon the broken and fragile Essme, currently bent over picking up glass, all the while getting it in her reddened knees. With a heavy frown, Kam cautiously wandered closer before bending down to help her.\n\n\"Well, I'm glad you did regardless.\" It was obvious that something had happened. Perhaps she had gotten in trouble and taken her anger out on her bedroom? Maybe her sister had come and they fought or perhaps someone had ransacked her room while she was away? Kameros didn't wish to pry, as it was obvious from the sound of Essme's voice she was distraught. Her tear stained and puffy cheeks told him as much. Reaching his hands over, Kam gently began to pick up glass shards before the floor was clear for the most part. Glancing at her knees, the tiefling nodded towards them. \"You'll want to heal that, love..\" Kam could feel he was unwanted to a degree, so instead of lingering and bothering her with questions, the sorcerer stood and shoved his hands into his pockets.\n.\n\n\"Say, why don't we get out of here, hm? I know you just got home and all, but I know the Broken Barrel is a pretty quiet and laid back tavern in the later hours of the night and to be quite honest, you could use a drink or two.\" Extending a hand, Kameros offered to help Essme up from the floor. His expression screamed concern and worry, but he remained respectful of the boundaries he wasn't even sure were there to begin with. The troubling look in Essme's eyes only worried him further, and as much as he wished to know what had happened, he refused to pry. \"Whaddya say, hm?\""
},
{
"author": "Essme Faydel",
"message": "Hearing the sounds of Kam's feet gently hitting the ground, Essme's first instinct was to hide herself. Like a muscled reflex, the Aasimar's feathers puffed up before quickly wrapping around her body. \"W-What are you *Doing?!*\" Faydel stammered, her voice only being able to come out in a raspy and hushed bellow. Try as she might to be infuriated with the man's presence- Em simply couldn't put up a good front. Her massive wings seemed to quiver with each step the bounty hunter took as he approached her, seemingly frightened that he had to see her in such a state. Nevertheless, as Kam slowly bent down and started to help her clean up, Essme felt a weak tug pull on her heart. *Why? Why was he being so kind..* \n\nTrailing her glossy, bloodshot eyes up towards the tieflings face, Essme could see the genuine concern hiding behind a shadowed frown cascading on Kameros face. With the angel's wings still shivering, parts of her muscles relaxed enough to drop ever so slightly, showing parts of her battered knees. Of course, Essme was only trying to hide her body from the indecency of a man seeing her, as she was in nothing but a silk-slip dress gown. However, with how Kam looked over her so carefully and spoke to her with such a soft and heeding tone, something was telling her that he was being authentic. Em brought her chin up to fully look at Kameros, words failing her in the moment they were sorrowfully exchanging. The Aasimars eyes held all the things her lips were pleading to say, like how hurt she was, how abandoned she felt, how she wanted nothing more than to *Not* Be alone... And especially how she wanted to blame him- but couldn't. Tears swelled once more, though Faydel was quick to blink them away.\n\nShe didn't know if she could ever bring herself to tell Kam the truth. Even so, all she knew was she couldn't be alone right now.\n.\n\nAfter a longing gaze into the mans' golden hues, Em simply nodded her head as she lowered her eyes and swiveled her jaw, a shaky sigh blowing from her lips. \"I.. I don't know.. I can't go out like this.\" Looking down at her scraped up skin, Essme pondered on just how much trouble she would be in if Winrae would find out her troubled sister was out and about once more. That feeling of guilt soured in the young woman's throat, but the more she thought about it the more Faydel realized- *Winrae wasn't here anymore.* \n\nShe had no say. No power. Nothing. At least.. Not right now. \n\nSwallowing down that lump in her throat, Essme raised her focus back towards the tiefling that was now offering a gentle hand. There was a genuine battle brewing on the girls' face as she contemplated another adventure with the bounty hunter. Though, after a brief moment, a small and broken smile twitched on Ems tear stained face. \"As long as there are no more life threatening monsters..\" She started to say, hesitantly reaching out to take the man's hand. Essme still had her wings coiled around her torso even as she stood, and though she tried to make it seem normal.. Kameros being here in her trashed up room was nothing more than awkward and frankly embarrassing. Shuffling her feet a bit, the angel moved her eyes around the room to avoid looking directly at Kam as she spoke. \n\n\"I'll.. Have to get cleaned up first, if that's okay?\""
}
] | 667 | 2,569 |
545.8 | 2022-01-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "King Zarreus",
"message": "\"That will be taken care of for you, Fostus. Thank you for coming to me.\"\n\nZarreus leaned back on his throne. Watching the rugged official walk away from their meeting. Perhaps a bit more intently than he'd like to let on. When the man finally made his exit, the Incubus sat back on his throne and sighed. It had been a busy day, so far. Lots of complaints and requests to address, and it had left him feeling tired. He scanned the room for a moment. Nearly empty, now; save for the guards that lined the walls. Fifteen, in total. More than it used to be, for certain, but it was a necessary precaution these days. He rubbed his temples softly.\n\n\"Work, work, work... How long has it been since I've gone to see a friend? Feels like years.\"\n\nHe muttered to himself. The chain piercings in his horns clattering against the two pressed symbols of the Findaran crest that hung from the tip of each horn as he shook his head softly. He got like this, on occasion. Kingly duties rarely left him with much free time to enjoy, and he would gripe to himself about it. Hoping something would break up the malaise of running a kingdom. Though there was always *Something* To entertain him.\n\nHe drummed his fingers on the arm of the throne. His voice cooing out to his pet. \n\n\"Cinder~ come to Papa, little Cindy.\"\n\nThe call was immediately followed by the beating of tony wings as a small fae dragon, colored like lava and brimstone flew out from behind the throne. Scrambling to land in his hand and crawl up and down it before stopping to look at him. Eliciting a little laugh from from the king as he picked up a small hand-held mirror from his lap. Holding it upright for the little creature to admire itself, which it did. Puffing out its chest as it stared at its own reflection, like a point of pride."
},
{
"author": "Asriella",
"message": "While all within the Findara castle began to settle, and nothing was left but stale, bland air silently creeping around aside from the occasional chatter of hushed murmurs outside of the throne room. Everything seemed... Dreary. Colorless. And downright uninteresting. Though, no one ever said being a royal was *Always* Fun. In the limelight of the spacious throne room- Decorated with massive open windows that allowed the midday sun to shine through graciously– The crackle of all four fire pits surrounding the king's seat popped and crackled with a gentle echo. \n\n*All was quiet. For now.*\n\nZarreus, who was too busy admiring his pet, had no idea of the silent eyes that were prying upon him. Up high above the ceiling, resting on a banister laid a curvaceous shadow- only showing the bright yellow hues that danced between the king and his mirror... Before this figure would ever let him catch sight of it, however, the shadow opted to simply disappear into thin air. Leaving a soft *Jingle* To rattle the rafters above.\n\n\"Well, well, well~ *Look at you...*\" \n.\n\nAn alluring, low feminane voice called out. The direction of where it came from sounded as if it were coming every which way, closing in on the king. \"And here I thought you were nothing more than mama's boy...\" There was a brief pause, followed by yet another *Whoosh* Of air before that familiar jingle came into earshot. Before the atmosphere caved in completely, or gave off the wrong impression, like that of an intruder, the shadow finally showed itself to the king in a rather amicable way. Reappearing in a shimmer of magic, one glamorous woman appeared.Furnished in robes of red and white silk, beautifully lined with trims of gold that tightly clasped the higher parts of her thighs... *That were now crossing over once another as she found her seat right in between the man's legs.* She was a relatively smaller sized female; as she wasn't fully human to begin with, which was made apparent by the large jet-black fox ears that twitched playfully upon her head. Those tantalizing yellow eyes trailed their way up Zarreus before a glistening smile sat between lightly pink colored lips. His nose would soon be filled with the aroma of fresh roses and lilys, as if she had just rolled around in a field of them. However, nothing seemed more familiar than the flash of white fur that shook out– Nine massive tails. All collectively curling their way around the Findara king affectionately...\n\n\"Seems like you got your wish, hm? *Zarreus~*.\""
},
{
"author": "King Zarreus",
"message": "The King's hesitance when the voice first had shown itself was readily apparent. His eyes darted about the room to look for a source, but when none was found, he moved to rise quickly as the fires around him flickered, casting misshapen shadows on on the walls, but his action was interrupted by a body. One that shimmered briefly to reveal itself from an invisible position right on his lap. It would have been at this point that the King would have shouted for the guards that had just left his throne room, but a unique trait caught his focus from his panicked state. A set of fuzzy tails that traced along the sides of his body. A familiar sight that left him in a state of disbelief as he was called by his name.\n\n\"Asriella? Is that you?\" He questioned quietly, his own bright yellow eyes locking with the woman as she stared up at him. Zarreus looked a bit different from being younger. He had grown into a beautiful and striking figure. Though not very masculine, his face was smooth and pointed, his skin was a pale reddish grey, and looked soft and poreless. Highlighted by long white hair that currently dropped around Asriella's head. He cleared his throat and composed himself quickly. He motioned a hand for her to move. Cinder, who had been admiring herself in the mirror mere moments ago, was hissing as tiny trails of smoke drifted from her nostrils. Clutching to Zarreus' forearm still, the critter quickly climbed to the top of his head, peeking between Zarreus' horns and staring down challengingly at this stranger who dared enter her household and interrupt her self-admiration.\n\n\"Get off me— and quickly, before she decides to get emotional...\" He hiked a thumb up at Cinder. \"...What are you doing here?\" The king questioned as he gave a gentle shove to encourage the woman to move and allow him to rise. It would seem the Kitsune's attempt to fluster the king was unsuccessful. At least, for the most part."
},
{
"author": "Asriella",
"message": "A spark of delight and exultation swirled in Azriella's eyes at the verbal mention of her name being spoken. Almost as if hearing it swooned her playful spirits. That wide, sharp tooth smile now twisting into a much more playful and wicked one as Zarreus fumbled around in his throne– looking just like the boy she remembered him to be. While the fox was too busy taking in her old companions new found features, an ear twitched up at the sound of what could only be made out as a faint, yet shrill shriek. Azriella tilted her head upwards towards the noise, only to be met with what she considered a rather ugly looking fae dragon. Scoffing out a small laugh, the kitsune tangled herself further into the king before placing a teasing kiss upon his muted red-gray cheek– those eyes never leaving his pets out of pure spitefulness. \n\nNevertheless, as the tiefling ordered her off of him, Ari gracefully swooped herself up with the power of levitation and gently lowered herself onto the marble floor; her robes angelically flowing behind her. \"Oh come now, Zar, don't be such a prude. Just because i don't suit your fancy doesn't mean you can't show me just a *Little* Affection, no?\" She said with a purr in her tone. \"Besides, im here... Because a promise is a promise. I knew you'd become a king, and here you are. Still as childish as ever.\" A kittenish laugh bellowed out from the enchantress as she teased him, knowing that look on his face all too well. While Azriella loved to play games here and there, Zarreus never quite got the catch and always killing the fun before it started. Despite it all, the fox knew times had changed. Not just for herself, but her distant friend as well. \n.\n\nSo, with a respectful bow, Ari gave a charming demonstration to the king. Curtseying with the short pieces of her fabric, Azriella bowed her head to the floor and lifted all nine of her vast white tails, spreading them out on display like a peacock trying to impress all the eyes on them. \"Congratulations, my dear king. May you live long and prosper.\" She voiced, only this time there was much more compassion and honesty as opposed to her previous taunting tone. Those vibrant golden hues flashed their way back up towards Zarreus, nearly piercing through him as she stood back upright. Now of course, this feminane feline may have seemed more than fetching to the king; as her body language screamed it clearly. However, it was just how Ari was with *Everyone*. Boy, girl, heterosexual, homosexual, it didn't matter to her. She loved anyone and everyone who'd give her the time of day. But as it stood, King Zarreus was nothing more than a good, yet old friend. Someone who knew her at her worst... *Before her truly worst moments.* \n\n\"It is.. Really good to see you again though, after all this time. And- Don't worry. I made sure no one saw me come in...\" Azriella's smile that painted her face slowly dissipated as she waved her hand towards the descending staircase where the kings guards were now stationed. \"Although.. *Some* Of your guards will be a little hazy for a day. **Or two**.\" From far away, they all seemed relatively normal. Most were standing in a line like they always do, but after looking a bit further, two or three of the royal knights could be seen craning their necks to look back up towards the kitsune... A dark pink hue highlighting their pupils. It was no secret that Azriella was a different sort of charmer than most, as her powers were a bit more destructive than that of a succubi. Even so, Az did her best not to overkill within her beloved friend's kingdom. And prided herself off of doing so with her wide, sheepish smile.\n\n\"I hope my arrival didn't mess with your plans?\""
},
{
"author": "King Zarreus",
"message": "The king stood from his seat as the woman rose from his lap. Barely even reacting to the kiss placed upon his cheek. A cheeky grin crawled across his lips as the Kitsune complained about his lack of affection. In all honesty it was pleasant to be spoken to like he was a normal person. It'd been aged since he'd heard his name spoken without a title, let alone shortened.\n\nAs the woman took a bow before him and sang his praise, Zarreus lifted one hand to his chin, and rested his elbow in the other. Seeming to examine her for a moment before commenting. \"You know, you'd make an absolutely stunning painting, darling. You certainly know how to strike a pose...\" His eyes fell from their study to lock with her gaze once again as she looked back at him. The expression written on his face was that of joyous relief. Relief that the person who'd revealed themselves in his throne room was Asriella. Someone he once confided in. Someone he still felt understood and has been through his same struggle, of being different, with power that the world didn't seem ready to understand.\n\nHe nodded along with Asriella's statement of glee at their reunion. Offering a quick glance over to take note of the guards that seemed afflicted by her charms. He was a bit disappointed that he would have to have that taken care of, but it was well worth getting to see his old friend again. Without a word, he took a quick stride forward, closing the distance between them and embracing his friend in a tight hug. Much to the chegrin of Cinder, who squinted down at the Kitsune with mistrust in her eyes.\n\n\"I'm happy to see you too... Your arrival has done quite the contrary, actually. I've got a bit of free time before I go to meet a representative from the Order of the Mage Hands-\" He backed away, placing his hands on her shoulders. \"If we hurry right now we can make it to my study during the guard rotation and catch up. Come, quickly.\"\n\nZarreus turned, and began to walk toward one of the halls. Moving with silent swiftness in his leathered boots. Hips swaying softly as he stepped. As he stepped away, Cinder continued to stare intently at Asriella from her place between Zarreus' horns."
}
] | 485 | 2,729 |
541 | 2022-06-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "King Zarreus",
"message": "A lone guard stepped forward, standing near the throne. A stocky half orc with long hair tied in a knot atop their head; clearing their throat to announce the arrival of a new presence within the throne room. One that had requested audience of the king, Zarreus, who sat patiently waiting upon his throne. Silvered chains along his horns rattling quietly as he slowly leaned his head from one side to another, resting his chin on his hand. Rather than turning his gaze to the guard who stepped forward, he did as he was always trained and kept his gaze forward to the door where his company would be entering.\n\n\"Presenting to his royal highness King Zarreus Meshoon, seeking audience.\" The guard spoke \"Ser Torsten Seastrider, a Findaran fleet commander.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Gladius. The audience is accepted, let him in.\" The king responded, and the guard stepped back. All of the guards that lined the walls of the large throne room held a salute over their chests in anticipation of the commander's entry, his status being what it was, he'd earned a fair amount of reverence from all soldiers under the king's employ. Zarreus waited patiently, wearing his typical 'I'm a king conducting kingly duties' expression, which was well known by anyone who dealt with royalty or high nobility regularly."
},
{
"author": "Torsten Seastrider, Son of the Sea",
"message": "*Torsten stood behind the thick wooden door leading into the throne room, his legs wobbling slightly. He was used to the rocking of Blackmast, not the stillness of land. Catching his balance, he glanced upwards, the large eye-holes in his facemask giving great sight as he noted the fancied jewels and leather that covered the door. He was never one for pleasantries. Even his flagship didn't bear any golden torches or fancy chairs. There wasn't much point in them. Gold didn't float. With a heavy sigh, he pushed the door open, quickly walking to the center of the throne room. He didn't dare gaze up to the king, instead taking a knee in the center of the floor, removing his helmet and placing it on the floor in front of him. The king would be familiar to the motion. It was a Seastrider tradition. When greeting their superiors, they place their helmet down in front of them and extend their head towards them. It was a sign of respect, as well as a sign of submission. A Seastrider only presents himself to their king to plead. Whether its for command or death. Torsten bit his tongue slightly, having taken note of the soldiers saluting his entrance.*\n\n\"Your grace.\" *He uttered softly, before peaking his head upwards, staring the king in the eye.* \"I come to you with a matter of safety for all in the realm. Not just Findara.\" \n\n*Silently, he retrieved his helmet and stood, holding it against his waist where his mace normally rested. He had removed it a few moments before entering. It didn't feel right to walk towards the king with a weapon. He had served Findara well, and wasn't going to be cut down by a castle guard for such a simple mistake. The king's presence was far more intimidating than he had anticipated. He had looked death in the face many times before, but all paled in comparison of the noble lord sitting on the throne, holding the ability to send Torsten's entire fleet down to the bottom of the sea with a wave of his hand. Zarreus commanded respect.*\n\n*Quietly, the man cleared his throat, and spoke.*\n\n\"I am Torsten Seastrider, Son of the Sea. I am the son of Ashyara and Rorrik, brother of Tormund. We have served your kingdom well all our lives. My great-great-great-great grandfather was the first to rally our ships to your aid. Since then, the Seastrider fleet has filled your ranks and won almost every battle we've fought. Our family commands the waves themselves, bending the seas to our will. Nay, your will. My father and my mother kept the navy of Khisfire at bay when tensions grew years ago, and my grandparents brought any ship opposing Findara to a watery grave. I myself have commanded the Seastrider fleet to thin the pirate presence in Findaran waters. I've won all the battles I've fought. When I took command of the fleet, you were likely to be thrown overboard by bandits and swashbucklers the instant you left port. Now, you're more likely to find a kraken than a pirate-ship in Findaran waters.\" \n\n*Torsten reeled at his own words before continuing, clearing his throat once more.*\n\n\"Forgive my, your grace, for I am no braggart. What I ask of you is immense and dangerous, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try. My family lost their lives chasing a fleet of pirates from our waters. Killed on the shores of Khisfire. I beg you allow the Seastrider fleet, with your permission and aid, to sail to Khisfire. I wish to ask the royalty for permission to thin their waters as well. Our nations have sour relations, I know, but I ask for the good of the realm. How are we to trade with Alynthi or sail to Dasvaz if our ships are at risk of pirates in Khisfire? Their navy has refused to take action, and I will stand by no longer. I am a Seastrider, and I will not falter.\" \n\n*A bit pretentious of an ending, he thought, but the king would buy it. They were saps for these kinds of speeches. At least, he hoped they were.*"
},
{
"author": "King Zarreus",
"message": "Zarreus met the commander's gaze with his own. Bright yellow eyes studying the man with intent, as if discerning the genuineness of Torsten's words and intent. After listening to all that Torsten had to say, the King remarked, \"It is not simple bragging if there is truth behind what you say, my subject. It is fair to take pride in such a long line of accomplishment. It prides me as a king to say I've such skilled navymen among my ranks.\" The tiefling smiled. \"Now grant me a brief moment to think on this.\" Zarreus looked off to his side, staring off into space as his expression shifted to deep focus as he weighed the pros and cons to himself in silence. When he turned his attention forward again, his expression returned to something a little more neutral.\n\n\"It seems to me you understand well the idea that your actions are a representation of myself and the kingdom you serve, Torsten. Your wisdom extends beyond that of a simple seasoned sailor. It is exactly why you have earned your position, and why you will be entrusted to perform such a task. I will send word to Khisfire that you will be arriving on behalf of Findara with an offer. I'm sure you already know this, but you won't be bringing more than a lightly armed transport ship until you get permission to bring battle ships into their waters. If they should decide to refuse, it will be your duty to return to your station here without complaint. Should you manage to acquire permission, however, I will grant you funding and supplies to make such a venture easier. If you find these conditions acceptable, I'll begin drafting the letter as soon as we're finished.\""
},
{
"author": "Torsten Seastrider, Son of the Sea",
"message": "*A wave of relief washed over Torsten, his knees falling slightly as the anxiety slowly fled from his mind. His emotions had always felt like they came in waves. He supposed that made sense for a son of the sea. From the waves you are born, and to the waves you will return. He had repeated the motto many times. It was a catchphrase of his, really. Every sailor who had ever fallen under the command of the Seastriders had heard it. It was a way of calming the soul before battle. A warrior must keep a cool head. Especially when on sea. The panicked soldier drowns under the weight of his armor. The calm one floats. It was simple, but it rang true. Torsten's helm issued a soft clunk as it rubbed against his breastplate, the arm keeping it in place quickly falling into a more lax position. Torsten's sea-green eyes met Zarreus's yellowed irises, his pitch-black irises not daring to move. The king held an intimidating presence. He wasn't sure if it came from the man himself or the position he held.*\n\n\"My liege, I am humbled.\" *He quipped, flashing a small but nervous smile between the rough beard combed neatly on his chin.* \"I thank you, but I must request one last thing.\"\n\n*Quickly, he cleared his throat, swinging his head forward as he stood up, straighter now. He cast a glance towards the other men in the throne room, swallowing his pride and his fears before he spoke. He was doing this for them, and their families. This was for the realm, he thought. Not for him.* \"I request you allow me to sail my flagship, Blackmast. I trust my crew more than I trust myself, and I know the ship will sail true. A lightly armored transport ship won't make it half the journey, lest I am to land on the shores of Northern Khisfire and make the rest of the journey on foot. Even then, the voyage is a deadly one. I trust my ship and I trust my crew. It would also be a profound honor to allow the sigil of house Seastrider to fly in Khisfire's waters once again.\"\n\n*Torsten seem to choke on his words as he spoke a final time, clearing his throat before continuing.* \"I wish to honor the sunken souls of my family. I trust the sight of our flagship sailing through the destined sea will do enough to please their spirits. Sailing without Blackmast is akin to writing without my hand. A possible task, but an uncomfortable one, leading to a poor result. My ship and my crew have become my remaining family, and I trust them and only them to deliver justice to the waters of Khisfire.\""
},
{
"author": "King Zarreus",
"message": "The king leaned back in his throne. There were a few good points made in the request to use the flagship, but sending something so grandiose could be perceived as a threat. This would not be an easy call. Regardless, the king would maintain his faith in Torsten. Sighing softly. It was always a balancing act in these situations. Although perhaps there was some tactile advantage to not sending a small transport ship as well, and that being a reduced likelihood of a significant head of his fighting forces being ambushed along their journey. Decisions like these had come aplenty so far in the king's technically limited ruling experience, and so far his judgement had proven fair, but it did not stop that little creep of doubt at the back of his mind that one wrong step could send his prosperous kingdom plummeting.\n\n\"Very well, Son of the Sea. You may bring your flagship, and *Only* Your flagship. The Khisfire royalty will be informed of such, and on this I will not budge. I also want you to stow the ship's armaments inside when you dock at Khisfire. I want there to be no room for misunderstanding. Not to say that I mistrust your judgement, rather it is the judgement of those unfamiliar to me that I hold reservations for. I hope you'll forgive my hesitations in such a situation.\"\n\nKing Meshoon rose from his throne, approaching the commander to look him well and truly in the face. Up close, and without the dramatic lighting of the large windows to either side of the throne, the King's features seemed much softer and less pointed. Giving him a generally much kinder appearance, aided by his removal of the 'serious face', even if only for a moment. He extended a hand out toward the armored sailor.\n\n\"I know it is informal, but I would like for you to shake my hand, Torsten Seastrider. So that I may have the pleasure of saying I shook the hand of the man who put an end to piracy not only in Findaran waters, but in our neighboring seas as well.\""
},
{
"author": "Torsten Seastrider, Son of the Sea",
"message": "\"Of course, your grace. I thank you for allowing me to do so in the first place. Most men in your position would place safety above family. It is an honor to know that I stand in the presence of one who shares similar values to mine. I know the waves will smile upon us. My family and I will make sure of that.\"\n\n*Torsten simply watched as the king descended from his throne. There was such grace in his movements, like a phantom coasting above the black waves of the sea. Indeed, he carried the weight of death. His presence reeked of it. The waves act differently when weighted down with the corpses and the souls of men. It felt as if King Zarreus was carrying that weight at all times, yet he simply ignored it, floating like a god down towards Torsten. The Son of the Sea could hardly look him in the eye. As kind as he was, he couldn't help but feel adversarial towards the king. It was on his orders that hundreds of men under Torsten's command died at sea. Of course, he wasn't directly at fault, but Torsten couldn't shake that feeling. He had always felt guilty for the deaths caused under his command. It seemed to him that his mind was selfishly attempting to shove that guilt onto another. He shook his head slightly, and slammed his hand into the King's, giving him a Seastrider's shake. It was less of a handshake and more of a promise. Torsten guided their hands up, creating right angles of their arms and slanting their fists. Another Seastrider tradition. It was the least he could do to honor the memory of his father.*\n\n\"It is an honor to serve you, my king. I hope to bring honor to Findara in the coming years. On the honor of my men and on the honor of my family.\" *Torsten nodded slightly, before removing his hand from the shake. Zarreus's palm would feel as if he had just skimmed the surface of the sea, wet with saltwater. Torsten had that effect. His hair seemed permanently wet and his hands dripped with seawater. Another trademark of the Seastrider family.*\n\n*Looking down for a moment, he swallowed his fear once more, raising his head to look his king in the eye. His appearance was still rather off-putting to the knight. He was so used to the barnacles and rust brought on by the sea. The weathering caused by the salt in the air and the scurvy affecting the men. Seeing such a regal and fanciful man was a huge shift in tone for him, and one he still struggled to cope with. It was strange. Strange, but manageable. He quietly addressed him once more, feeling guilty as he continually asked for things. He was Torsten Seastrider. He had a reputation of taking, not begging. It felt out of character, in a way.*\n\n\"I have another thing to ask. Diplomacy is not my strong suit. I am much more accustomed to the ways of war than I am the ways of politics. My men have told me that you've met with Princess Nala of Khisfire before. I trust I'll be speaking with her in the future. Do you have any advice? Things to expect, avoid, or touch on? I'm intending only to aid the realm, as is my duty. Making an enemy of Findara is something I wish desperately to avoid.\""
}
] | 497.5 | 3,246 |
373 | 2021-09-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "Upon opening the doors, Feyre was surprised to be met with a full face of snow blowing in her face. She had only spent two nights within the castle walls and already forgotten it was filled with snow storms. The wind was so strong however, it nearly knocked the poor girl over when she took a forced step forward. The adrenaline that was still pumping in her veins was starting to wear off by now; which was causing the pain of her bad leg to pinch more and more with each step. Though, the pure blood bit down on her lip and did her best to power through it. Feyre's tear stained face quickly grew frigid while she lingered out into the open wilderness, she was unfamiliar with the land but knew that she was headed into some sort of forestry- given by the dark oak branches that popped up from the blanket of white snow.\n\nThe snow in question was rather thicker than anything the girl had ever seen. Feyre was used to season cycles when they came around in Alynthi. However, here, she was almost knee deep. Nevertheless the human trudged on and made it up a small hill before taking a moment to catch her breath near a large, thick tree. It was odd to see leaves still present on its branches. Feyre, still panting from exhaustion, took one last look back at the castle behind her. Although she wasn't too terribly far away, it was enough to give her time to plan her next move. She just hoped that the king wasn't hot on her trail by now..\n\nSwallowing in the cold air, Feyre grunted as she pushed herself up from the tree. She hugged herself tight to try and gather some warmth around her given that all she had on was a silk thin dress. And as she fought with the gusting winds, her eyes squinted forward to look for a path beyond. Feyre wasn't quite sure where she would be heading but knew she had to try."
},
{
"author": "The Weaver of Stories",
"message": "The bitter winds slashed against Feyre's face as she made her way out of the castle and into the wilderness. As the human looked back, there was no sign of Alyus just yet, but one shouldn't doubt an ice bear's speed in its natural habitat. When Feyre began to push deeper into the bitter cold wood, only the sound of the cold winds would fill her ears. Not creatures nor just nature in general. Just wind. The deeper she went, however, the darker it seemed to become. Tall shadows began to envelop the small human, and as trees began to surround her, the wind seemed to die down ever so slightly, giving way for new sounds to enter Feyre's ears.\n\nThe hoots of an owl above her may have brought comfort, but the owl seemed to take off and dart in another direction. Those shadows cast by the tall pines around the human almost seemed to move, and just under the sound of the wind a low growl or perhaps better described as a gurgle seemed to reach Feyre's ears. Moving shadows darted on either side of Feyre behind trees, and these shadows seemed to move with great speed and chaotic movement, but with each movement they only drew closer to the human. The close they came, the louder the growls became. Out of the corner of Feyre's eye, she may notice what looked to be a *Tendril* Of sorts, glowing blue and almost beckoning the girl toward it."
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "Blowing hot air into her palms, Feyre limped onward. She hadn't quite realized that the day had already gone by so quickly, and now night was creeping in. The human kept her eyes alert while she moved in deeper into what she so innocently thought was just a normal, dense, forest. However the more she observed the tall swaying trees that so graciously kept the wind from entering the belly of the ground bellow, the more she came to see that these trees seemed so much more... *Alive?* It was a bizarre thing to see them bend and contort but Feyre tried to not dwell on the thought too much, and rather kept her gaze forward.\n\nIn spite of her weariness, Feyre soon would come to realize she couldn't pretend things weren't normal here. The wind outside of the thick trees had zero access to where she was, and come to think of it... She couldn't even hear it anymore. Just the sound of what she thought was the oak breathing. That was until the sounds of growling blew around her ears. \"He.. Hello..?\" The girl mumbled nervously. Whipping around after the sound. Her eyes could hardly make out anything anymore in the sudden darkness, even if she squinted. But one thing that was clear was the abnormal movement within the forest around her. It was too off to be considered nature life, too large to call a small animal.. \n\n\"Is anyone there...? E-Elora?\" Feyre called out, a hopeless guess that perhaps her friend had made it out of that awful guards grip. But the young girl knew deep down that she was much too far out now for Elora to be nearby. Yet she still wondered twoards the low sound until she was able to spot a flashing color of blue surrounded within the darkness. Feyre tilted her head ever so slightly, too curious to back away now. She had spent her whole life in a forest, but then again... It wasn't a magical one... \n\n\"Hello..?\""
},
{
"author": "The Weaver of Stories",
"message": "As Feyre drew closer to the strange beckoning blue tendril, a shape seemingly walked out of the shadow of the tree itself. Not from behind the wood, no. *From the shadow the tree cast.* Another appeared behind her, and as it stepped into what little light cast through the canopy of pine trees above, Feyre would see a vicious, snarling and drooling antlered creature. It had the body of a wolf, but it was nearly the size of Elora in her bear form. Black ichor dripped from its fangs, and its snout entirely was bone that seemed to rip from its fur around its eyes. The navy blue and black fur along its flank seemed to ripple slightly, as tendrils along its back reached out toward Feyre, almost as if they were smelling or probing her.\n\nThe one in front of Feyre looked to what may have been its mate, before a broken english seemed to reverberate from its marrowed mouth. \"*Smaaaaall. N- ot, enough.*\" What was it referring to? The larger and most likely male of the two walked towards Feyre, and the female soon followed from behind the human. The two creatures encircled the girl, before the female wolf creature replied to her mate. \"*Mine. **Miiiiine.***\" The two then snarled at each other, before the female submitted to the male's growls and snaps. It then looked at Feyre, opening its mouth as the black ichor dripped to the snow below. It seemingly melted instantly around the ichor, and steam began to rise from the ground.\n\nThe creature moved forward, backing Feyre up with nowhere to run. A massive paw pushed her into a tree, keeping her pinned as it reared its head and opened it's maw.."
}
] | 387 | 1,492 |
406.25 | 2021-09-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "There was a quiver within Feyre's soul as she held her breath and closed her eyes. Accepting what she thought were her last moments alive. And within those final moments, she wondered to herself if someone out there in this wide, wide world would hear her plea, or know of her small existence- like the many small stars in the sky. To her, she simply saw this as the way of life. Those smaller and weaker have no purpose for existing with such significant, magical beings... \n And as she awaited for her flesh to be devoured. For her bones to be crushed and grinded under the fangs of the marroweater; Feyre's heart stopped. *But for a different reason.* The sound of an ear-splitting roar broke her empty thoughts, causing her watery eyes to fly open just in time to see a massive flash of white collide with the monster in front of her. \n\nFeyre felt the slight relief of its presence off her but- '*Alyus?*' That same weary pit in her stomach sunk in further once she realized the King had found her. *But why was he helping her?* He had seemingly ended these creatures like he had done it time and time again before. Like he *Knew* This would happen. Too stricken to move; Feyre watched it all play out while she weakly hugged the oak tree behind her. He was truly a terrifying sight to behold. Thrashing about the wolves like they were nothing. Shedding blood without any care or hesitation.. A beast in its primal form. And when Alyus had cracked the female's neck, the human looked away with a muffled whimper stuck in her throat. She hated watching, truth be told. The thought of death was just too much to bear face to face. \n.\n\nHowever, as Feyre was clinging onto the tree behind her; eyes clenched tight- She had missed the sight of the last wolf as it climbed aback the King and landed its fangs deep within his back. The painful sound of Alyus' roar reverberated through the ground, roots and almost felt like it shook the very trees around them. Feyre's heart raced tremendously at the noise, whipping her head around to see the bear King thrash around with the beast before finally putting an end to him with one foul swoop of his mighty paw. And suddenly... Silence was present again.\n\nThe human trembled at the sight of it all, but once her eyes locked on with Alyus, she felt the air leave her lungs.\n\n\"A-Alyus..?\" She whispered weakly. Her eyes panicking as they met the large gash on the bear's shoulders. Fear was still *Very* Present in the girls eyes as the King loomed closer to her. Perhaps it was the fact that he was oozing blood from his mouth and paws, but nonetheless, Feyre kept backing up. Until Alyus had fallen down at her feet however, did she realize he was no threat... And he had saved her. Panting, the pure blood's face slowly twisted through every anxious and sad emotion until she slowly inched forward and buckled at the knees into the snow before him. \n\n\"W-Why did you... Can you move? King Alyus-\" \n\nFeyre's pants of anxiousness quickened as she stared wide eyed at the opened wound, her focus pivoting back and forth between his face and shoulder. She was too afraid to reach out and touch him, but her trembling hands met him half way as she hesitated. Fearful that he was dying, the young girl could be seen starting to cry before murmuring. \"Please get up.. Please..\""
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "The king lie in a slump on the ground, his breathing heavy. He wasn't dying, no, just in pain. The marroweaters saliva was not only acidic, but in the right amount could cause adverse effects to the inflicted. His mind raced as he huffed, his massive shoulders and body attempting to move or get up, but they just wouldn't. Couldn't. Alyus's blue-green eyes looked up, meeting Feyre's in a haze as he heard her cry out for him. He frowned, wanting to get up and check on her, make sure she wasn't hurt in any way. Nevertheless, he attempted to respond to her, if only to reassure he'd be okay.\n\n\"Why- waste time checking on me.\" He grunted slightly, his voice ragged but still clear enough to understand. Alyus allowed his eyes to meet Feyre's. \"You could still run. Though I- I can't promise I won't chase you again.\"\n\nPerhaps this was the king's attempt at dry humor, but it would more than likely go over the poor girl's head. Alyus felt his skin burning, and as he glanced back at his shoulder steam from the acidic saliva had begun to rise from him. It was coursing through his veins and sending shocks down his body, made apparent by the way he trembled every so often. It hurt like hell, but he wouldn't show it. Alyus looked back at Feyre once more, shaking his head weakly at her plea to move.\n\nA loud rumble left the king's chest as he slumped his head into the snow, but with such a heavy coat on his body there was no way for the cold to reach his burning skin from the wound, making him only groan more with frustration. He thanked Ursus Feyre couldn't see him now in his human form."
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "There was already a rose tint to the human's cheeks from the cold stinging her face, but when Alyus mumbled to her, she felt a different kind of sting that made the reds of her cheeks light up more. But instead of dwelling on that flustering feeling, Feyre inched closer to the King. Her brows painfully twisting upwards as she watched him lie in pain helplessly. \n\n\"You saved me.. I can't just leave you here...\" Feyre said, finally bringing herself to place her small, shaking fingers on his snout. He felt hot.. \"J-Just turn back- you can do that, can't you? I-I can try to help you back to the castle and.. And i'll get others to help you.\" \n\nWhen Alyus let out another painful sound, the ground once more felt like it shook beneath the two. And as his head fell into the snow, feyre gave a worried frown. She couldn't control her rapid breathing that was caused by so much shock, but she knew that she wasn't going to just leave the king here in pain. So, the least she could do was try and make him as comfortable as possible. *At least in her own little way.* \n\nVery gently, Feyre moved up beside Alyus. Right in-between his large bloody paw and head. She then carefully guided his massive head over to her lap that was out of the snow, holding onto his fur underneath with both hands as she stared helplessly down at him. \"I'm so sorry... You didn't deserve this..\" Feyre murmured, gently running her fingers through his fur with hesitation. She didn't want to overstep his boundaries- better yet, she was overstepping hers. Having him this close to her terrified her. But even so, that fear was overshadowed by the thought of more marroweaters coming out of the woods for them both."
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "Feeling his head be pulled, he hesitated and fought against it. At least, he thought he was fighting against it. In his mind, he pulled his head away, but the bite had weakened him more than he had realized. Alyus didn't exactly give in to what Feyre was attempting, but he quite frankly didn't have much choice. His expression remained a frown, and rather than reply or offer to do what Feyre had asked of him, he huffed, a large cloud of hot air leaving his nostrils, similar to that of what you might expect a horse to do. Feyre running her hands through his hair made him tense, but not noticeably. A woman touching him was normal, but with this level of affection. A memory seeped through his mind, making him tense even more, but before he could fully pull away he completely slumped, his mind falling black as he passed out."
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "While Feyre was already apprehensive about being this close to the king, the feeling of him falling over onto her made the poor girl gasp as she gently tried to shake his head. \n\n\"A-Alyus? Alyus wake up.. Hey!\" \n\nHer chest began to rise and fall more heavily once she realized that the King had seemingly blacked out from the pain. Lifting her head, Feyre looked back to check his open wound and let out a verbal noise of both disgust and worry seeing as the bite was infecting him, and fast. Darting her eyes around, the human glanced down to see her silky gown glistening under the treebranch covered moonlight. She wasted no time in gripping one end and trying to rip the other. However, to no eval the first time, being that the pure blood was too underweight and much too weak- she carefully used the Kings claws instead to neatly rip of the bottom of her long flowing dress. Taking what cloth she could, Feyre reached up covered the bears bleeding shoulder blade. \n\nShe was running out of options at this point to try and with the darkness growing in the night sky, the colder Feyre became. Sniffling, the young girl inched her way back to the unconscious bear, her lip quivering ever so slightly as she took in his face. Feyre then curled herself around his massive head, trying to warm herself as she wrapped her arms around his head to support him.\n\n\"H.. Help..\" The human started to mumble, looking around within the darkened forest. The sound of her voice growing rougher through the cold air. \"Somebody.. Help! Please! ... Please...\" Feyre weakly voiced one last time before burying her face into the bear king's neck. Her knees were burning from the chilling snow, so much so she thought they were bleeding at this point. But she stayed still with Alyus' head propped upon her lap. Hoping someone would surely show up soon..."
},
{
"author": "Elora, Junior Guard",
"message": "What may have felt like forever for Feyre, it wasn't too terribly long before multiple footfalls trudging through the snow could be heard. Elora, leading the group of guards, stopped when she reached the clearing as her eyes rested on her king slumped in the snow. She glanced over to the marroweaters, both unmoving as she unnervingly rested her paw on her blade. She was in her anthro form, walking like a human but with the body of a bear. Without another moment, she ran over to the kings side, but stopped when she saw Feyre huddled up beneath him. Her form shifted, and she was once more a human as she wrapped a cloth around the freezing human.\n\n\"Are you okay? Can you move?\" Elora questioned, her eyes wide. The skin that wasn't covered by armor and clothing was visibly bruised and cut, and blood soaked her usually clean and white cloak on her neck. At least not all of the blood seemed like it was hers. She sighed, gesturing for the guards to move towards them. Two made their way to the dead marroweaters and began to tie them up before dragging them back toward the castle. Three more guards made their way to the king, while another stood guard a few meters away."
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "Visibly shaking, Feyre kept her hands warm by hiding them on the underside of the Kings head. Even she too was falling in and out of consciousness from being exposed to the harsh weathers that was clearly too much for a pure blooded human to be in. Fighting to keep herself afloat, Feyre hid her face deeper within the bloodied fur of the bear, whimpering helplessly and filled with guilt for what Alyus just went through. \n\n\"This is all my fault... This is.. All my f-fault..\"\n\nAfter what felt like hours, the young girl could faintly hear rustling and snow crunching not too far from her. Thinking it was another set of wolves, Feyre gripped onto Alyus and huddled in closer. She hadn't yet lifted her face, too afraid to know what was out there; but once she heared the familar sounds of armor clicking together, the human wondered if it was finally someone coming to help. *However*, poor Feyre's mind was shocked into fight or flight mode, and once she felt just the mere presence of someone or something closing in on her- she snapped.\n\n\"**Get away from him!! Dont hurt him-**\" She cried, lifting her face to show the black inky blood mixed with the kings own around her pale face and dress. Feyre's eyes were bloodshot and tear stained, still showing terror in them when she shouted but quickly paused the moment she locked her gaze with Elora. *She looked a mess...* The dark black and blue bruises nearly coated the guards skin, looking too severe to even be standing right now- Feyre stared in bewilderment.\n\n \"You're here..\" She breathed, still holding onto the king for dear life. Feyre didn't want to let go of him, especially after seeing the crowd of guards curling him. She slightly cowered as they set their sights on her, but when she watched two break off near the marroweaters, Feyre slowly turned back to Elora. \"He... He saved me from those things. We have to help him, i don't know whats wrong with him i just- He got bit and that *Thing* It-\"\n\nTears started to swell back up in the humans eyes as she shook her head and looked down at the unconscious polar bear in her lap. \"I'm so sorry.\""
},
{
"author": "Elora, Junior Guard",
"message": "Elora's eyes slightly widened at Feyre's expression and outburst, and as guards out of Feyre's view raised their weapons Elora raised her hand. She may had been a junior guard, but the sway of practically being the king's own trainee spoke volumes. The guards lowered their weapons and instead went back to looking over the king, leaving Elora to deal with the human. Elora's soft blue eyes once again met Feyre's, and she continued to wrap the human in warm furred clothing before gently lifting Alyus's slumped head off of Feyre's lap. She sighed, looking over to the marroweaters as they were dragged toward the castle. Feyre was more than lucky. Nevertheless, she shook her head at Feyre's worries.\n\n\"You have to little faith in the king, Feyre. He's taken worse licks from much bigger and meaner creatures. *Just ask him about his fa-*\" Elora quickly stopped herself, shaking her head. She then helped Feyre up before calling out back toward the castle. \"Vetur! Patrol.\"\n\nA loud howl echoed as a massive creature entered the clearing. A three headed beast, made up of a polar bear, owl and what must have been some sort of cat walked near the king, sniffing him before reeling its head back in disgust. It's six eyes met Feyre's, each head tilting curiously before it turned and headed off into the woods, the sound of aggressive sniffing soon fading into the wind as it did. Elora watched as Vetur left, and before Feyre would be able to ask who or what the creature was, she shifted back into her full bear form before helping the human onto her back.\n\n\"Back to the castle, hm? You need warmth, rest and food. Let's get moving before you get frost bitten.\""
}
] | 386 | 3,250 |
355.666667 | 2020-11-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "Being an animal had it's ups and downs, but one of the biggest perks of being able to become a predator such as a polar bear was the sheer power of smell Alyus gained when in his animal form. The minute Feyre set foot in the library, her scent wafted it's way up into the King's nose, causing it to twitch ever so slightly. Alongside smell, hearing and vision were also enhanced, and each step the human took made Alyus's ears perk and move a bit. It had yet to wake him, but it was only when Feyre drew closer did Alyus begin to stir. It wasn't noticeable at first, but then a low and heavy grumble began to almost shake the table as it came from the King's chest. As Feyre grabbed a book, Alyus's eyes opened to see a hand in front of his face.\n\nHis crystal blue eyes widened as he reared himself up to face what he assumed was a thief or an assassin sent to kill him. There had been many attempts, but given how feared and ferocious Alyus was, none had prevailed in assassinating the King of Gantrick. In what seemed like mere seconds, Alyus had reared up on his back legs, standing at almost eleven feet tall in his bear form. His paws were out at his sides as he readied himself to attack whoever dared disturb the King. His mouth curled into a ferocious snarl as a growl emitted from his throat, and it reverberated off of the walls only adding to the display of power from the King. But then, his eyes fell on Feyre.\n\nHe paused a moment, his breathing still a bit heavy from being woken up so suddenly. However, Alyus let out a scoff, blowing air into Feyre's face as he fell back down on all fours. Even then, the bear king stood tall above Feyre, and as he looked down at her it became increasingly obvious he was frustrated with her.\n\n\"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'Curiosity killed the human.'?\""
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "As careful as one human could be, Feyre bravely let herself coil her fingers around the books hard back cover. The heavy breathing and low growl of Alyus reverberated so strongly however that it startled her, causing the smooth texture to slip from her hand— ending in a loud *Thunk* That seemed to echo through the library.\n\nA small gasp blew from Feyre's lips and before she knew it, the king had thrashed himself to his full height. Her eyes widened in fear just like she was re-seeing him for the first time. Not knowing what would happen, she felt her body begin to tremble. Those eyes, those angry, cold eyes. She could have sworn they were a deep pit of emptiness.\n\nAs Alyus landed back down- his low scoff making her bounce back a bit- Feyre started to take small steps backwards, trying to leave a wide gap between the two. Her heart was racing a million miles an hour, thumbing so loud she thought it would hop right out of her throat. Upon the kings chilling question however, the pure blood was in a bit of a shock, unable to answer.\n\n\"I- I...\" She started, her breath quivering with each word as she tried to speak. \"I meant no harm y-your Highness. I just- uhm..\"\n\nWith each backwards step the human took, she quickly began to realize the situation she was stuck in. She was a mouse, caught right between the paws of her capture."
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "Alyus's lips curled into a slight smirk, but it faded just as quickly as it had come. He looked down and realized what Feyre had been reaching for; a book. He raised an eyebrow slightly before closing his eyes, and suddenly his body began to shrink. His bones cracked and shifted as his fur disappeared, only to be replaced by skin and clothing. He muzzle began to push inwards into his face, and as he stood up on his hind legs once again, it was shortly after that the King was in his human form once again. He adjusted himself, straightening out any wrinkles in his clothing before bending down and picking up the book Feyre had dropped.\n\nIn his human form, Alyus was clothed in a padded black vest and underneath was a long white v-neck shirt. He wore simple brown trousers and leather boots. He handed the book over to Feyre, it was a book on Dark Spells. Alyus of course knew no magic, so it was strange to see him reading such a book. Alyus eyed the human cautiously and curiously, almost like a predator watching it's prey. Those ice blue eyes remained steely however, just as they had when he was a bear.\n\nHe showed that smirk once more at her words and began to brush past her, but as he did he stopped by her side and leaned in, mumbling low into her ear.\n\n\"If I thought you meant me harm, you wouldn't be breathing.\"\n\nAlyus then made his way towards the doors of the library, most likely heading off to do his morning duties. He was a King after all, and he had plenty to do each day."
}
] | 337 | 1,067 |
198 | 2020-11-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "As Feyre watched Alyus morph back to human, she kept that same wide eyed look. He looked so... Normal here. Not menacing at all. The way his hair fell around his face, shadowing the outlines of his strong jaw and eyes that still remained wild, cold, and heartless. Except for that devilish smile of pearly whites that- even though he was a human now, she knew he could eat her in one bite. \n\nThe small pure blood trailed her gaze down to the kings hands, watching him pick up his book and poising himself back upright. When he handed the heavy book to Feyre she confusingly opened her palms to accept it, the weight of it sinking in. She went to look down at it for just a moment, taking in the foreign markings and -to her- the unreadable words. \n\nHowever, when Alyus came closer, brushing his lips against her ear; it was enough to make every hair on her neck perk up. Another soft quiet gasp escaped from her lips in surprise at just how close he was. But his words however... That was enough to make her start trembling all over again. Feyre gripped the heavy book in her hands so tight her knuckles turned white. Her heart rate started to pick up again as it was clearly shown in her panicked breaths. \n\n\"I...\" \n\nMenacing. He was *Defiantly* Menacing. Even as his human form. Before she could fully respond, she felt the king pull away and make his way off to the doors. Part of her felt like dying right then and there. While the other was tugging at her to ask a million questions at once. Feyre glanced down at the book once more before taking a moment to watch Alyus leave. Should she follow him? What was her orders today?"
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "Alyus all the while was smirking, but as he walked away from Feyre he glanced back at her, his eyes steely as always. He didn't look long before setting off to the throne room. He was a king after all and had plenty of duties and \"Appointments\" To attend to. He didn't expect Feyre to follow, but if she did, she would be in for quite the show..\n\nAlyus then rounded a corner and headed off to the"
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "Catching his eye, Feyre felt her cheeks heat up ever so slightly. She was already embarrassed at the whole ordeal, and him staring at her like that- with that god damn grin, it just wasn't helping. She huffed reluctantly, puffing up her cheeks in an attempt to act like she wasn't fazed by his pure dominant behavior.\n\nAnd that little voice in her head kept at her until she unknowingly felt her feet slowly heading after the King. Sneaking around him didn't seem practical but, she wanted to know what he meant when he spoke those chilling words to her..."
}
] | 121 | 594 |
698.333333 | 2022-11-26 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Feyre, Prisoner of Gantrick",
"message": "As Feyre listened to her beloved friend speak, her gaze slowly tore away from the many papers littered upon the ground. Perhaps she was right- she had to be anyhow. Feyre was still new to this castle- *This world*. Only Elora would know how the king is, at least far more than the human. Nevertheless, as the guard spoke of Alyus's duties as king, she found herself pondering on what it all truly meant. Especially with the talk of another king somewhere off within Alynthi. The young girl's blue-green eyes squinted in thought as she recalled the first time ever seeing bear shapeshifters. Within the woods of Alynthi. The only place she called her 'home', if it was one to be called that. Even so.. It begged the question; *How come Alynthi's king did not come for her the same way Alyus did?* \n\nHis motives never truly had answers. At least not to Feyre. All she could really be thankful for was having a roof over her head and a friendly face such as Elora, everything else however... It was questionable. And Feyre was left with many, *Many* Questions. Alas, the human drew a sigh from her lips after the guard brought her attention back to the matter at hand. Reading and writing. Both of which Fey had worked unnecessarily hard on. So much so, there was a light red indent that was beginning to form within the creases of her fingers from holding her quill so tightly. Trying her damnedest to form lines that were not shaky in any way. Nevertheless, Elora's condolences did seem to brighten the dreary mood Feyre had gotten herself into. Offering her words of empowerment that were subtle but true nonetheless. \n_ _\n\nWhen the guard rested her hand upon Feyre's arm, a gentle flicker of warmth reached the human's eyes as she reciprocated by putting her free hand upon Elora's own. A small smile pursed her lips as she nodded in agreement. \"Thank you, Elora. I don't think i'd know what i'd do without you here with me.\" Feyre then pulled her bottom lip inside of her mouth to refrain from smiling wider, though that obvious grin was written across her soft pale face. \"Especially with Alyus's '*Lessons'*.. You were very right about them.\" Gentle laughter sang out from the humans throat like that of a young child. Her hiccups of stifled giggles bringing even the dullest colors back to life. \n_ _\n\nWhen all was said and done however, Feyre turned her focus back to the two original papers she had placed back onto the desk. One held many rows of each letter within the alphabet, and underneath many lines of trying to sign her own signature. Just underneath that paper however, was the small crinkled piece Alyus had written on. The same one Feyre would find herself staring at periodically to make sure she was making her words and letters as neat as his. To Elora's final task, Feyre pulled in one final sigh through her nose before giving a slight nod. She couldn't help but linger her eyes over towards the neatly written paper from the King, wavering her inky feather above the parchment in deep thought. Decidedly though, Feyre pushed the bothersome paper aside and focused on her own. Tracing her quill along the blank space with extreme delicacy until letting up again. \n\nFinally, something that *Didn't* Look like chicken scratches. The human eyeballed her work for a moment before sliding it over to show Elora. It was arguable more finer than that of her other lines- the '*F*' a beautiful swirl just like the '*A*' in Alyus's name. Aside from the bent '*E*''s... It was simply just visible progress. \"You think he'll approve of this?\" Feyre asked timidly, pulling her long brunette hair behind her ears to not fall upon the table. \n||"
},
{
"author": "Fidan, The Beast of the Tundra",
"message": "*The halls seemed to fall silent as Fidan worked his way through them, his steel boots clanking against the hard floors with an ominous rhythm. Draped in full armor befitting that of a titan of the battlefield, his comparatively small stature grew irrelevant, as members of the royal guard bowed down at his presence despite being two or three feet taller. Being one of the few men among warriors still in his human form, he strolled through the halls at a slow, commanding pace, a gauntlet wrought of iron and steel resting upon the simple hilt of his Estoc, which sat comfortably in his scabbard at his side. Whispers of dread surrounded the man, as voices pondered who's head he was off to claim in the solemn sanctity of silence. Despite the words of Alyus, Fidan managed to command the fear expected of him at times. Especially in the King's absence. Fidan worked to run the guard, and run the guard he did.*\n\n*Approaching the massive wooden doors to the library, Fidan stopped just shy of the handle, reaching for the mighty iron knob formed in the visage of a great bear with his iron hand. He faltered, however, lowering his gaze to his hand. He studied the gloved fingers for a moment, before raising his hand to his head, carefully ripping the heavy steel helm away and near his waist. As the workings of the world flashed behind him, he stood in the small alcove leading to the library, staring down at the inhuman visage resting in his hands. The steel helm that had saved him from blade, bow, and bear alike. Within the polished steel, he caught a soft glimpse of himself, staring down the guardsman in the eye. The human guardsman. The man behind the beast. Fidan.*\n\n*He watched as the man disappeared in an instant, replaced with the feline creature he was always expected to be. The beast of the tundra. The beast who truly deserved to bear the armor, to wield the sword, and to hide behind the iron face. The beast who led the guard, and the beast who Alyus trusted personally. His snout bore hundreds of scares, leaving his feline form ugly and malformed. While the bears he accompanied himself with had wondrous furs personally groomed and kept pure white, his was left a dark grey, matted and unkempt. He carried the look of a man who had fought tooth and nail for every life he had stolen, sticking out like a sore thumb within the company of fresh guards and fancy nobles.*\n\n*Tucking his helmet away at his side, he threw open the doors to the library, casting the bear handle aside with a personal prejudice as he stepped into the library. His boots continued to slam into the wooden floors as he strolled in, ignoring the gazes of those around him as he strolled quickly over towards the King's pet. Unsurprisingly, he found her in company with Elora. The junior guard. She had been playing her part as of late. That much he could respect. Standing across from the two near the table, he slammed his helmet down on the table, nodding to Elora in a bid to get her to stand at attention. And, hopefully, to shift. Alyus had made it clear that all those stationed with Feyre were meant to present in their animal forms. Besides, it's not like Elora had much to hide. Pristine fur, great height, few scars.*\n\n*Fidan sent a firm glare to Feyre, his scarred visage towering above the human. Alyus' words rang like bells in his mind. He was to show authority. Command respect. He wasn't a lapdog, nor was he a house-cat. He didn't aim to frighten Feyre, instead he aimed to cement himself as the man he dreaded being. He wasn't Fidan, the friendly guard who enjoyed sketching birds in the courtyard and feeding the king's whores. He was Fidan, The Beast of the Tundra, and he would be regarded as such.*\n\n\"The King requests your presence in the courtyard. Both of you.\" *He spoke, his voice low and commanding, singed with hints of pain and rage.*\n\n\"Best not to keep him waiting.\""
},
{
"author": "Elora Sinclair",
"message": "\"I think he'll approve of anything you show him, Feyre. Progress is progress.\" Elora said with a smile, though the doors to the library suddenly bursting open caused the young guard to jump up from her chair and turn towards them defensively. Eyeing the individual who entered, Elora's eyes quickly widened as the Commander of the Guard stepped into the library. The stomping and sudden slam of his helmet on the table may not have caused Elora to jump but it surely would scare Feyre. Stepping in between Fidan and the human, Elora quickly stood at attention, her human form giving way for the more ursine version of herself. Towering high above Feyre and slightly taller than Fidan given her animal form, the guard fought against the urge to check on Feyre.\n\nRegardless or not of her relationship with the human, Elora was a royal guard in training, which meant she had to be on her toes around Fidan especially. It was strange that the king decided to send Fidan in his stead, though the more Elora thought of it perhaps it was for good reason. Feyre flinched nearly every time a beast shifter was nearby or in her vicinity. Fidan was a bit heavy handed with his presence but most shapeshifters were in Gantrick. Feyre would surely tell Alyus of her experience with Fidan, though.\n\n\"Of course, Commander. Come along, Lady Feyre.\" As if like a switch, Elora's entire demeanor changed. Where a friend like no other stood now stood a much more cold and determined guard. Turning completely towards Feyre so that Fidan could no longer see her ursine face, the guard gestured with her head for Feyre to move along. Before Elora turned once more to walk with the human, her expression softened for only a second to reassure Feyre all was well."
}
] | 831 | 2,095 |
244.1 | 2020-07-26 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Gantrick Guards",
"message": "After a long and harrowing journey, the guards arrived at their home of Gantrick, and more specifically, Gantrick Castle. The halls they walked through were lined with black marble with statues of the great white polar bears on either side of the entrance to the throne room. The large wooden doors opened and revealed the grand throne room of the castle. There was a long blood red carpet that stretched all the way to a throne where yet another large anthropomorphic bear sat, but on his lap was a woman. The sound of giggling echoed in the empty room, but as the doors to the throne room closed with a loud bang, all fell silent.\n\nThe only sound was the rattling of the girl's chains as she was led by the two guards who captured her. The walk to the throne felt like it lasted an eternity, but once they reached the bottom of the small staircase that led up to the throne, the two guards knelt. Upon seeing their captive still standing, one stood and walked behind her, grabbing her by the back of the head and forcing her to her knees on the cold floor.\n\n\"On your knees before the great King, welp!\"\n\nThe guard then moved back to his original position and knelt before his king. The second guard then spoke.\n\n\"We captured a human, your majesty. She's one of the rare ones..\""
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "*Feyre had felt as if her body had left her during that long and exhausting travel. Her already starved body looked horrifyingly ill. The poor girls leg was burning on the inside as she took those agonizing steps up to the throne, eyes still down at the ground. When the guard forced her to her knees however, Feyre let out a quiet yelp as her legs gave below her.*\n\n*Her tired and empty blue-grey eyes slowly lifted up the long narrow stairs until they fell on the king, taking in what she believed was the largest bear she had ever seen. If it wasn't for her current state of disarray; Feyre would have be trying to muster the strength to high tail her way out of here. But, the bitter truth was that this human was just that. A normal, helpless human who had the faintest clue of the life outside of the forest.*\n\n*And now she was faced with a bear king, in his ice castle.*\n\n\"I...\"\n\n*Feyre gulped the dryness away in the back of her throat as she tried to take in everything at once. The gaurds words however lingered in the back of her mind. A 'rare one'? What did that mean? Nonetheless, why was she here? The young woman shifted on her knees, trying to stay off her bruised leg that had already swollen and turned shades of dark purple. She kept her eyes up at the king, trying to not look like she was frightened.*\n\n\"I- I'm not '*Rare*'. I'm not a magic holder, nor an elf. I'm just a pure blood human...\"\n\n*The girl rattled her shackles as she squinted up at the large polar bear, noticing the woman who sat upon his lap who looked more like a strumpet than anything.*\n\n\"So if you're here to eat me i'd advise you that i probably wouldn't taste very well.\""
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "As the doors to his keep opened, the King barely batted an eye, but when the loud bang interrupted him whispering dirty nothings into the whore's ear who sat on his lap, he rolled his eyes and dragged them to the three individuals who dared interrupt his free time. As they came closer he squinted slightly at the female who was forced to her knees before him. When one of the guards explained what they had brought him, his relaxed back into his chair to ponder. It was only when the human dared speak without being spoken to, that the King sat up and forced the whore off of his lap. His voice boomed,\n\n\"To my chambers.\"\n\nThe whore bowed then scurried off. The king's ice like eyes tore through Feyre and before long he stood to his towering height. He was, indeed, the largest shapeshifter anyone had ever seen, both out of his animals forms and in them. He stomped his way down the steps to his throne before stopping right in front of the woman. His paws clenched at his sides as he breathed, his breath coming out ragged.\n\n\"Perhaps you can join me in my chambers as well, human.\"\n\nOne of the King's massive paws reached down, grabbing the girl by her hair as he forced her to look up at him.\n\n\"Have you ever been in the presence of royalty? Do you not have a clue as to who you're looking at? Have humans really fallen so far to forget how to act and present themselves in front of a King as great as I?\""
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "\"Anh-\"\n\n*Feyre let out a whimper at the jabbing feeling of the king's paw that forced its way through her hair. She wasn't glaring anymore, no, fear had settled in now. The human began to tremble at how close this bear had come, still not used to seeing such a thing as a shapeshifter before. Feyre's eyes darted away the moment her face was forced infront of the king, her body-language showing tell tale signs of distress and anxiousness.*\n\n\"I... I never knew anything outside of the Greenheart forest. All i know of are the elven people and certain magic holders-\"\n\n*The poor girl tensed up as she held her breath, not sure if this would be her last. If being mauled by a giant, magic bear was the way to go... Feyre wished it was quick and painless. Thousands of thoughts raced through her head, as well as the face paced beat of her heart that pounded in her chest, through her ears- she was almost positive anyone in the room could hear it by now.*\n\n*But with a quick last second decision, the human spoke once more; hoping to save her some time.*\n\n\"I'm s-sure you are a mighty King... No?\""
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "The king tilted his head slightly at her words. Was she.. Trying to compliment him? Perhaps save herself time, the King was no fool. He leaned in, his hot breath rolling off his tongue as he answered her question.\n\n\"The mightiest. Do you not know my name then?\"\n\nThe King set her down, but much more gentle than the way he picked her up. He then turned his back to her, walking back up to his throne and taking a set as he rested his head on his paw. His blue eyes danced over her, rather hungrily mind you. Was he showing kindness or mercy? Only time would say."
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "*Feyre clenched an eye shut as the King's snout touched her cheek. A chill ran down her spine at just how thunderous his voice bellowed. At the question he asked, Feyre wasn't sure lying would get her out of this one. But, given how he somewhat put her down she went along with that optimums tone in her voice.*\n\n\"No..- Your Majesty. I'm afraid not. I know nothing of your kind, because i grew up alone without parents. The elves only taught me about alynthi and nothing more.\"\n\n*Her eyes slowly shifted back up to meet the King's now that there was breathing room between them. She felt unbelievably vulnerable for the first time in her life, and it was something that put her off big time. Feyre tried to clear her throat and think of better things to say. It's not like a viscous king wanted to hear about her sad life in poverty.*\n\n*The small girl watched as the King loomed his eyes over her; making her close her arms around her body to hide the holes and tears of the rags she was wearing. With some hesitation, she went on.*\n\n\"May i know your name? Or do all great Kings go by simply that, a King.\""
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "The King let out a bellowing laugh at how simple the girl seemed to be. The guards also chorted with him, but when the King stopped, they did as well. The thought of someone not knowing the highest populated race in the land was a baffling one. The King sighed, but when she asked for his name he tilted his head slightly in amusement. If the elves don't know how to teach a young girl the greats kings and queens across Lucidien, they surely lost their minds.\n\n\"I am King Alyus Archaius.\"\n\nBefore anyone else could speak, both guards stood up straight and banged their weapons to the cold ground, the sound bouncing off the walls loudly.\n\n\"All hail the Great King Alyus!\"\n\nAnd just like that, they fell back to their knees. They didn't expect much from a human, but her ignorance was down right pitiful. Alyus shifted in his seat and scratched his white hairy chin. What to do with her? Perhaps she could be his new chambermaid..\n\n\"Were you a whore in Alynthi? Given your.. Rags.\""
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "*The sound of laughter closed in on Feyre as she lowered her head in embarrassment. She knew they were laughing at her, who wouldn't? Though soon that laughter would be flushed out with the sound of metal banging against the ground when Alyus spoke of his mighty title.*\n\n*The golden haired female wasn't sure what to do or say in the mitts of a King, never having the pleasure to do so. Even so, the words Alyus said next surly shocked the young girl. 'whore'. Sure, Feyre was old enough to know what a whore was, but being called that?-*\n\n\"What? No! Of course not. How dare you-\"\n\n*Her cheeks flushed up a bright red as she halted in her words, shooting up a sour look at the King in disbelief. How could someone say something so... Rotten. Feyre hugged herself tighter, quickly looking away in spite of what he had said. Her voice however, lowered as she spoke.*\n\n\"Living alone in a forest isn't so lavish... Your Majesty.\""
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "The King began to laugh at her flushed face, but when the words, 'How dare you.' left the humans lips, the laughing stopped very suddenly. Her little comment would not go unnoticed, by anyone in the room. The guards eyes widened at her bravery to say such a thing but there dared not move. Alyus stood from his throne once more, his eyes slowly filling with rage.\n\n\"How dare.. How dare ***I?!***\"\n\nHe shouted, his booming voice echoing off the walls and sending chills down the guards spines. As the King stood, his paws clenched once more and he made his way down the steps in front of Feyre once more.\n\n\"You'll do good to mind your tongue when you speak to me unless you wish to lose it entirely. Guard-\"\n\nAlyus turned his head to the grizzly bear guard and he jumped before standing up straight but no words left his lips.\n\n\"-take the whore out of my room and place this one in it. She'll learn her lesson one way or another. Lock her in there.\""
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "*Feyre jumped herself at the sudden shift in tone and body-language of the King. As he made his way down the steps, she started to scoot herself backwards to try and keep space between them. Her eyes filled with terror at Alyus's words of locking her up in his room. What has she done..*\n\n\"Nn.. Wait- wait please-\"\n\n*The girl whipped her head behind her towards the guards as she began backing away from them as well. There was a sense of panic that overwhelmed her. So much so that Feyre was forcing herself up on that bruised and bloody leg; whimpering in pain. Her blue-grey eyes flashed to Alyus in some sort of silent plea.*\n\n*Could a king have mercy?*"
}
] | 242 | 2,441 |
376.333333 | 2020-11-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "As the King entered the throne room, it would seem rather empty for someone who had so much to do. As most royalty across Lucidien, Alyus had to deal with the occasional complaints or pleas from his people across Gantrick. Asking for more time to supply certain things to the castle, requesting more guards here, complaining about something there. It was rather dull, as many of the civilians chose not to test the King's patience with such trivial matters. By now, Alyus had changed back to his bear form. He never allowed peasants to see him in his human form, for he felt it showed weakness. The King made his way up the steps to his red and black throne before taking a seat.\n\nBefore him was the long blood red carpet that led to the main doors of the throne room. Spread down the carpet was the occasional pair of guards standing on either side of it. There were two more heavily armored guards standing at either side of the king's throne, and they seemed more menacing than any other guard seen in the castle. After a short while, the main doors to the castle opened with a loud rumble. Over the course of little under an hour, Alyus dealt with his people. Nothing very exciting happened, that was until one of the King's guards walked up and whispered something into Alyus's ear. His expression visibly turned sour as he nodded.\n\nAround ten minutes later, a bear was dragged into the throne room from one of the side doors. He was bound in chains that shimmered with a dark purple magic, they were most likely enchanted to prevent them from breaking. It was a shapeshifter no doubt, a black bear with tufts of fur missing and welts on his sides. He walked with a limp, only made worse by the occasional push from the guards escorting him. Eventually, he fell to his knees before the king, and the sound of labored breathing filled the room.\n\nAlyus scratched his chin and tilted his head slightly down at the bear.\n\nHe then stood from his throne, but didn't walk down the steps. He instead remained where he was and simply looked down at the pitiful sight of the bear. He then spoke, his voice filling the room.\n\n\"Do you know why those chains bind you, Ishmael?\""
},
{
"author": "Ishmael Farengard",
"message": "\"M.. My king ha.. Had I known she was a pure blood I.. I would have never laid my hands let alone my teeth on her.\"\n\nThe whimpers poured from the black bear's lips as he pleaded to his king. Ishmael had served under Alyus for many years, and he hoped and prayed to the Gods above that would be enough to allow his life to be spared. He shuddered slightly, his fur bristling with fear.\n\n\"I've served you for many years, my King. I have always been loyal to you and.. And only you.\"\n\nIshmael dared not look Alyus in the eyes. He knew he was below the great polar bear king, he knew not to challenge him by keeping eyesight. All he could do was pray. Pray Alyus would spare him."
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "Feyre had learned a thing or two about being well, a sneaking type of girl. She learned how to use her surroundings to blend into the background, act quick if she was hightailing others- in this case the king. She had silently followed him through countless halls, round narrow corners, until she had noticed he was turning back into that terrifying four legged beast. \n\nThe human backed up a bit and stayed low, narrowing her eyes to watch him contort and grumble his way into a door that was even Half his bear size. And not soon after, Feyre watched as people of all kinds started to flood into the castle. She listened intently for the first hour, watching how Alyus treated some more portly than others. How his infliction in his tone sometimes never even wavered from the empty, emotional state. Wasn't the purpose of a king to be kind to his people who need it?\n\nSlumped in a crook between walls, unnoticed but still visible to the thrown room, Feyre took a moment to try and figure out just what was this book the King was so upset over. She cradled the large hardcover in her lap, her legs pulled up to her chest even in her dress. The first few pages she had randomly flipped through were odd, but then again so was the book as a whole. Feyre had no recollection on how to read. She was never taught. All she knew was how to run away, steal and survive. So looking at the books many detailed words and instructions made her brain all jumbled.\n\nIt wasn't until the sounds of chains clattering around the castle floors that Feyre jerked her attention back towards the throne room. Her eyes couldn't tell which bear to focus on considering there was so much going on, but the first one that caught her eye was indeed the one shackled. He looked to have been beaten; and telling my the Kings disappointed face, this was going to be something.\n\nThe little human inched herself towards the doors of the throne room when Alyus's voice spoke life into the air. She kept her book held tightly to her chest however, feeling a sense of dread as if she was not allowed to be here. Watching such a tense moment between the two. Feyre kept hidden however, watching on in anticipation. For she knew this bear in chains. But why did they kept saying pure blood...?"
}
] | 465 | 1,129 |
270 | 2020-11-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "\"You KNEW! Is it not why I sent you searching for one in the first place?\"\n\nWith each word, Alyus began to slowly descend down the stairs leading up to his throne. Each step and word seemed to bounce off the wall, only adding to how menacing and terrifying the king was in this very moment. As he finally got down on the same level as Ishmael, he let out a loud and anger filled sigh. He had known this bear since he was a cub, Ishmael's father was one of Alyus's best guards, still was in fact, for he was one of the honor guards at the side of Alyus's throne in this very moment.\n\n*However, Ishmael's father stayed still next to the throne. His eyes cast forward, for he couldn't look at his son, not when he knew what was going to happen..*\n\nAlyus shook his head down at Ishmael, before making a hand gesture to the guards that kept him shackled. The minute he did so, the guards began to unshackle the beaten bear, and his body fell to the ground with a *Huff.* Two more guards emerged, and removed Alyus's robes and any armor he had on, save for his britches. They then handed him his battle axe. During this time, another guard appeared, and threw the black bear's sword to his feet. The only way Ishmael would live to see another day, was if he beat King Alyus Archaius, the dreaded and most feared shapeshifter in all of Lucidien..\n\n***In combat.***\n\n\"Stand up, Ishmael. Show me you deserve to live.\""
},
{
"author": "Ishmael Farengard",
"message": "Ishmael trembled as Alyus began to descend down the stairs, and jumped when he shouted in his face. He cowered away, only stopped by the two guards behind him. It was only when he saw his king taking off his armor that he realized what was happening. His sword was thrown to his feet and his shackles removed. He shook his head, terrified.\n\n\"N.. No. Please my King! I will fix it I..\"\n\nIshmael's words fell on deaf ears, however. Eventually, with a sigh, Ishmael slowly and weakly picked up his blade and stood before his king.\n\n\"If this is your wish my King, so be it.\""
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "Watching the King internet with Ishmael was a sight to behold. The way Alyus so carelessly glided down the stairs and ready himself for battle. But *Why* Fight? What was his reasoning? Feyre didn't know the laws of this land, but this was surly enough to know the minimum. \n\nThe blue eyed doe watched in anxiousness as the battered and bruised bear weakly stood from his chains, leaving the King still emotionally distant to what was to come. Was Alyus truly this evil?\n\nFeyre couldn't seem to get her mind of the exchange in the library nonetheless, how snarky and intense the King was to her, especially in his human form. There was something about it however, something that kept her heart racing even now as she felt her eyes were glued to watch this scene pan out."
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "Alyus readied his battle axe, balancing it in his hand slightly. He then pointed it at Ishmael and boomed loudly, his voice echoing across the room.\n\n\"Ishmael Farengard, you a hereby sentenced to death by combat. Should you survive, you will be exiled from Gantrick. **Forever.**\"\n\nAlyus then waited only a moment after he spoke to give Ishmael time to ready himself before a loud roar shouted from his mouth. He clashed his axe with Ishmael's sword and a battle ensued. Even though the black bear was weak, he wouldn't go down without a fight. It was against everything he was raised and trained to do, and by Anthron, he'd fight to his last breath. He knew there was no possible way to beat Alyus, but he'd give it his all.\n\nAlyus attacked with a flurry of blows to Ishmael, the sound of clanging steel filling the room. From Feyre's point of view, one of the guards standing next to the throne seemed extremely tense, his paw hand even gripping his own sword. Alyus continued to fight Ishmael, but eventually the black bear's sword was flung from his hands. Alyus pointed his battle axe to the bear's chest, his own heaving only slightly from the battle. This fight? It was nothing compared to the other's the King had been in. This was child's play.\n\n\"Any last words, Farengard?\"\n\nAlyus turned his head slightly, for he was not talking to Ishmael. The guard that seemed tense took a slight step forward, his voice quivering with what sounded like both fear and anger all at once.\n\n\"My son.. May Alintha light your path.\"\n\nThe guard then took his previous stance next to the throne, his head bowed in refusal to watch what would happen next. Ishmael let out a slight sob on his knees before bowing his head in defeat. If Feyre wished to retain any innocence.. She'd leave now."
}
] | 258.5 | 1,080 |
264.25 | 2020-11-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "Watching the battle was invigorating, Feyre felt goosebumps starting to crawl beneath her skin at every punch and blow of their weapons. There were times where she wanted to look away, wanted to yell for help... But her body was locked in the same position. Eyes glued on such violent acts. \n\nWhen Alyus landed a fatal blow that knocked Ishmael's sword from him, the human gasped in fear. It was as if the King barely moved a muscle to win this fight; something truly terrifying to any enemy of his. When Alyus spoke out, she noticed one of the guards step forward. His paws somewhat trembling in fear for the black bear. It was when he spoke that she realized this was his father. They all... Seemed so close. This was a family, and the king... He had no remorse for them. \n\nGripping the magic book tighter in her arms, Feyre felt an awful gut feeling in her stomach. She wasn't sure if she could handle even being here to watch the rest of it. So, ever so slowly, Feyre started to slowly back away from the door. The stiff feeling in her legs subsiding with each step."
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "Had Alyus known Feyre was watching, he would have surely done this in a more private setting. Amongst shapeshifters, at least in Gantrick under Alyus's rule and the Archaius family rule for centuries, executions were carried out in the throne room. However, they were always more.. Personal. Alyus allowed Ishmael's father to say his final peace before he dropped his own weapon with a clatter to the floor. Currently, Alyus was only half-shifted, so he still retained some human aspects. But suddenly, he fell on all fours and all human traits were removed from his body.\n\n\"May Alintha, light your path.\"\n\nA loud growl rumbled from Alyus's chest before he lunged forward, his massive paws gripping and digging into Ishmael's shoulders. He opened his massive jaw, clamping it around the black bear's throat. There was a loud crack and a twist of the head, and suddenly, Ishmael went limp. Alyus pulled hard, and a chunk of the bear's throat came out with it. Alyus dropped the bloody chunk of flesh to the floor before ruffling his fur. He turned his head, his eyes dilated and almost completely animal like.\n\n\"Clean up this mess. I have things to do.\"\n\nAlyus then began to walk, still on all fours to the doors where Feyre was hidden. His maw was dripping with blood and gaping open, almost as if the taste was unbearable."
},
{
"author": "lapdoll",
"message": "Feyre watched on in her hypnotic like state when she saw Alyus shift back into that large bear like state. She wasn't sure just what was happening but, her gut twisted as he drew closer to Ishmael. It was then that she realized this was definitely not something she should be here to see, for when the Kings large roar spread out from his mouth, she turned away.\n\nThe sound, however... There was no denying what was happening. The *Sound* Was horrifying. The wet crunch of bones and insides made poor Feyre scream out in an uncontrollable sob that could be heard a mile away. She quickly covered her mouth however, dropping the heavy book onto the ground with a loud and echoing **Thud**.\n\nEvery bone in her body began to shake violently, as if she were going to fall apart. The adrenaline within the pure blood started racing so fast, Feyre felt she would pass out. But knowing now that the King and his men most likely knew she was there, caused her to act quickly. The human turned on her feet— nearly falling in the process— and took off down the long narrow halls, her dress flashing ever so slightly in the door way.\n\nFeyre's intrusive thoughts got the better of her as she desperately started to look for an exit. She was petrified. Was she going to die here? Was this her purpose? \n\nWith no idea where she was headed, Feyre raced the halls until she found an opening. Running desperately into the ."
},
{
"author": "King Alyus Archaius",
"message": "Alyus eyes widened as a shrill scream filled his ears from the same direction he was walking. He then caught a flash of a familiar dress. He lowered his head slightly his ears falling back on his head for a moment. Forgetting he was still covered in blood, the King took off after the human. For one, she was most likely going to get lost or try and escape, and for two, he needed to.. Explain.\n\n\"F.. Feyre!\"\n\nAlyus slid through the doors and caught Feyre running down the halls, *Directly to the staircase that led into the undercroft.* Alyus's eyes widened as he let out an angry growl.\n\n\"DON'T GO IN THERE, HUMAN!\"\n\nAlyus then broke into a full sprint on all fours after the girl, his mouth still dripping with blood as he did so. He eventually made his way to the staircase, and descended down into the"
}
] | 279 | 1,057 |
334 | 2023-07-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Tomira Parvatti | The Red Sorceress",
"message": "\"But of course. You had me on my leash for far too long.\" With a simple flick of her hand, the doors to the throne room were slammed shut. Approaching the king, Tomira revealed a familiar vial, one filled with the blood of Feyre. Closer and closer the high elf drew until she was within but a few feet of Alyus's throne. Now that she was within a short distance of Alyus, Tomira conjured a bubble around the two, one that made anyone listening deaf to the conversation within. No magic could penetrate it, and after a few seconds the bubble became black, making it impossible for anyone to see within it. \"Now, about this little sample-...\"\n\nNow hidden completely from potentially prying eyes, Tomira came much closer than she normally would. The facade she had painted on to meet Feyre was by Alyus's direct demand. Play the part of a welcoming and friendly soul to a scared little girl. It disgusted her to say the least. With the vial in her hand, Tomira climbed up into Alyus's lap entirely uninvited, and yet there was no protesting from the king. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, the sorceress's eyes lit up a bright red, her vampiric powers demanding his attention be entirely on her. \"I've tested it, tasted it, and I can assure you without a shadow of a doubt I know what your little pet is.\" Straddling the king, it was clear Tomira was playing a game, but Alyus did not at all seem amused."
},
{
"author": "Tsar Alyus Archaius",
"message": "Alyus was irritated by Tomira's little show, and while he remained silent as she approached him, he quickly sat up in his throne when the sorceress revealed the vial. Quietly, the king allowed himself to be enveloped by the magical barrier, and once they were fully hidden he eyed Tomira suspiciously. \"Tell me. None of your games, Tomira.\" A thousand possibilities played through Alyus's mind, and while he was almost certain the results would disappoint him, he was excited and anxious to know nonetheless. Tensing as Tomira grew dangerously closer to him, Alyus restrained from welcoming her onto him as he had a handful of times before. Feyre was plastered into the king's mind, and something felt... Off about allowing another woman so close to him.\n\n\"Tomira-\" Alyus was cut off by the high elf's arms clung around him, and then by her teasing words of the results. Alyus had always felt somewhat anxious around the sorceress, for he knew no magic, and she was extremely skilled in hemomancy. Coupled with the fact that she was a vampire, Tomira was powerful indeed and not one to be tested, whether Alyus was a king or not. Placing his hands at her sides as respectfully as he could, it was clear by the king's expression he was not in the mood in the slightest for this. \"Tell me or leave me be, I've had a long day and it is not over in the slightest.\""
},
{
"author": "Tomira Parvatti | The Red Sorceress",
"message": "\"You're no fun, Alyus.\" Leaning away from Alyus slightly, Tomira pouted before giving a dull and bored look to the king. \"Fine.\" Holding out the vial, Tomira was sure to not allow Alyus to take it from her as she explained the results. Eyeing the blood in the tube with a particular hunger in her vermillion eyes, her gaze shifted to the Bear King. \"Your suspicions were correct. She is a full-blooded human. How, I haven't the faintest idea. A full-blooded human has not been seen since The Great Dying. I can confirm this not only by the test results but by taste- I've had my fair share of humans in my 3,000 years. Feyre is human.\"\n\n\"That's not all however.\" Standing up, Tomira walked a few steps away from Alyus before turning back to face him. Levitating the vial in front of her, Tomira gave an uncertain look to Alyus before casting a spell upon the tube. Feyre's blood slowly danced out of the top of the vial before Tomira formed it into a ball. Leaving it levitating, the sorceress used her other hand to cast a cantrip upon the blood. Fire slowly crept towards the sphere of red liquid, and the moment it made contact with it, the blood crackled with a white magical energy. The fire immediately dissipated, and the crackling within the sphere slowly died down.\n\nTomira looked to Alyus as she filtered the blood back into the vial. \"Feyre has magic, but magic like I have never seen in the thousands of years I've been alive. I haven't ever seen this level of power. Why didn't you tell me before I conducted tests, it nearly blew up half of my laboratory.\" Tomira looked to Alyus with an angered look on her face, blaming him for what was nearly a disaster."
},
{
"author": "Tsar Alyus Archaius",
"message": "Rolling his eyes as Tomira backed away, Alyus rested his elbows on the arms of his throne. Watching quietly as she revealed the results of her experiments, Alyus's eyes widened with surprise. A full-blooded human...? How...? How could one be alive to this day, they were extinct? Ignoring Tomira's vampiric words, Alyus was entirely caught off guard that there was more to the results. Sitting up in his throne, the king watched Tomira's display quietly. Watching her weave Feyre's blood unsettled him slightly, but he remained quiet and observed, intrigued. Alyus's eyes flickered to the fire Tomira conjured, following it with bated breath as it drew closer and closer to the sphere of blood.\n\nThe moment it made contact and caused a white lightning to crackle within the sphere, Alyus jumped ever so slightly, surprised by what had happened. Looking to Tomira for answers, the king was stunned to discover even *She* Was unsure what it was. Staying quiet for a long few moments, Alyus looked off into space, unsure what to say or do. Feyre knew magic? How could she not tell him? Was *She* Even aware of her own power? Alyus supposed if she was she would have used it during one of her many escapes. It was clear even she was unaware of what was within her. Alyus needed answers, and if Tomira could not offer them, he simply had to look elsewhere. \n\n\"Disperse this, now.\" Alyus stood from his throne, demanding Tomira let him out of the magical barrier she had created. \"I need to prepare a journey to Lazaroth.\" Approaching Tomira, Alyus grabbed the arm that held the vial, squeezing it as he glared into the vampire's eyes. \"Do NOT share this information with anyone, Tomira, or I will have your head. If Gaunter knows, erase it from his memory.\""
},
{
"author": "Tomira Parvatti | The Red Sorceress",
"message": "Without much warning, Alyus stood up from his throne and approached Tomira, the expression on his face startling her. She may have been a powerful sorceress, a terrifying vampire, but Alyus was a powerful man. She had seen his anger before, and it was very clear that Alyus was not at all joking about his demand. Without a word, Tomira dispersed the magical barrier, the light outside of it shining in on the two of them. Feeling his hand grip her shoulder, Tomira tensed slightly, the red in her eyes glowing dangerously.\n\n\"I understand. I will go and do it now.\" Pulling out of the king's grip, Tomira turned and began making her way to the entryway of the throne room. Willing the doors open, Tomira waved a hand to the two petrified guards, upon which the two gasped for air and nearly fell over. They knew who she was, but even still they gave angry glances her way. Peering into the throne room at the king to ensure he was okay, the two guards then shut the door as Tomira disappeared down the hallway."
}
] | 324 | 1,670 |
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