~-How We Got Here -~ [PG-16][Accepting]

[Hydra of Ages]

[align=center]The air was smokey, as if a great fire had broken through the area. The scent of sweat and blood was fresh though not pungent, an odor regulated to the background of the thought and imagination, just clear enough to invoke the feeling of a prior battle; a bloody, wretched brawl, the kind that broke asunder families and set friend against friend.

 

They were in an inn, or what appeared to pass for an inn. The walls were made of soft wood, looking sturdy though not particularly expensive. In contrast, ornate glass lamps, devoid of any metal bit or construction, were held in midair, strung along the ceiling with invisible twine or clinging to the edges of the wooden walls, nearly scraping the low ceilings.

 

And old man, wearing a long dark robe walked up to the girl. She had soft mauve eyes, distinctly unnatural. At first glance, people would expect that she was blind; She didn't appear to notice him approach until he nearly filled her vision, until she took a step back. Only then would you notice that her pupils would not contract to accommodate the brightly lit hall, as if permanently resigned to provide perfect night vision rather than shift between different light schemes.

 

"Party for how many?" the man asked in a deep, gravely voice that sounded as old as time itself. He pulled away a long, dark hood from his head to reveal a bald scalp and a short black beard, revealing features several years younger than his voice would indicate- indeed, more than his body would indicate, for he had limbs that resembled dried out twigs, gnarled and twisted with the signs of age.

 

The woman paused and glanced around, biting her lip, at her various companions. The man examined them with a hint of curiosity; Most were human, but indeed, several were not. One was a young blue dragon, obviously nursing torn wings, and two others were strange creatures he couldn't even begin to describe past 'demon'. There was a third that seemed human in all but feel... perhaps it was the tinted black spectacles, or the habit for the large cigar he smoked not to deplete while he held it, or the interesting shape of the smoke rings behind him... but something about him screamed 'inhuman'.

 

Not to say the humans looked uninteresting either, though. One he debated in calling human, as not only did he possess pointed ears, but he seemed to have trouble staying corporal, apologizing various times as he faded in and out of states of translucence. A girl nearby was looking bored and disinterested, despite the fact she was heavily injured and possessed a bushy red tail extending from the seat of her leather pants. A glint of sharp tooth from her jaws confirmed that she, too, probably wasn't of human linage.

 

"I'm not sure how many we have." the girl admitted after a moment of counting, with a sigh. "Doesn't really matter, the number's prone to change anyway."

 

"If you don't mind me asking..." the elderly fellow said in a tone of deep curiosity. "But... what is the story with you and your compatriots?" he asked, sincerely.

 

The girl paused slightly, and sighed a little. "It involves a semi-voluntary interspecies wedding, the invention of three new species, usurping an ancient emperor and changing the timeline by inventing a powerful weapon centuries earlier, becoming the precursors to a society of cultistic worshipers, resurrecting an ancient demon lord, sealing away the god of the sun into a brass lamp..."

 

She hesitated before continuing. "Suffice it to say, it's a long story."

 

The old man chortled. "Dear miss, this is the Inn at the End of Time. We have all of eternity to trade stories."

 

The woman nodded. "In that case, get comfortable. This is how we got here..."

[/align]

[spoiler= How We Get Started]

How We Got Here is somewhat different than your average Role-Play.

The point of this RP is not to get finish a certain goal, but to get to a certain point- That is, eventually fitting into the first post.

 

There is no backstory offered. The point of this RP is to work off eachother- While I will be providing certain cues, you are encouraged to Worldbuild and help develop the setting and characters on your own, to the ultimate goal which is to fit into the scenario listed above. The plot will be ultimately made up as we go along, from a mishmash between a gentle string of plot I will lay, fleshed out by your own character interactions and side-quests.

 

[spoiler= Rules]

The rules here are very simple.

Powerplaying/Godmodding are looked down upon at all times, obviously, however you are allowed to do as you please with your own NPC characters so long as it does not impede on the plot or step on the toes of the other Roleplayers.

On this note, not only will the Advanced Clause be put in effect, but I want a minimum of 10 lines to the average post. This does NOT mean you have to write 10 lines at all times, simply that I'd like your posts to average out at around that number.

Finally, I, and any proxy I might invest power in, am the ultimate and final authority in any arguments. If I tell you something, then it is binding within the realms of the TP and I reserve the right to kick you if you disobey. For example, if I say your character cannot do something, they cannot do that thing. If I say your character CAN have a certain ability, on the other hand, then they have that ability despite anything else any other players may say.

Finally, have fun. I plan for this to be a very relaxed RP in the way of rules; While I will warn you, I'm not very strict. As long as you adhere to the spirit of the Roleplay, I couldn't care less what you do.

 

 

[spoiler= Applications]

There is no standardized Application.

 

PM your Apps, made from scratch in whichever form you'd like. The more creative, the better. I will then PM you back on your status as accepted or not.

 

As for what your character can be, let your imaginations go wild. While the prominent setting is Medevil Fantasy, with some tweaking, I could accept theoretically anything if the app is good enough. That said, I can ALSO reject anything, based on anything I think is bad about it, whether it be your grammar or the very idea I feel is unappealing. You can resubmit a rejected App at any time, as often as you want.

 

Any apps posted in the thread are automatically rejected.

 

 

 

 

[Dark Lightning]

Seems cool. Might join ;)

[Hydra of Ages]

[spoiler= Currently Accepted People]

I will not be putting up any Profiles until we actually start. This is to help dissuade people from using the same application form.

 

Accepted Players:

 

1) Blazinghydra - (Msc. Characters)

2) Spartan919 - Jason Clawborne

3) Fenrir - Rainer

4) Otaku-sama - Ewan Sinclair

5) Magnet - Raxi'iara Uum'grofth

 

 

 

[fenrir]

Blah. Reservation.

 

I'll send the app in a few.

[Guest Lily]

Reserved~

Seems like fun

[Guest TheFinalFan]

Joining.

[Naimo]

Interesting ... reserve please

[Kōsuke Ueki]

Having your own style of an application? Genius! Reserve please.

[Hydra of Ages]

Reserves accepted.

[Hydra of Ages]

Bump.

[fenrir]

How much do you need/want for start?

[Hydra of Ages]

Around 7 would be a fair number, but I'll start earlier if need be.

[Hydra of Ages]

We start Wednesday, or Tuesday if we get at least one additional person.

[Hydra of Ages]

OOC:...And, here we start.

Don't worry about the main plot to begin with. Spend your first few posts exploring your character's past, their actions, their quest, etcetera. After that, I will rope things all together. Savvy?

 

BTW, you don't need to ask permission to make NPCs relevant to your character's past.

 

 

[spoiler= Location]

Note: At this time, you are allowed to introduce locations as you will, provided you provide the relevant information in a Spoiler Block such as this one. Your own character may start in the location of your choosing, within reason. Because of this, there may not be much DIRECT character action for a while- however, using NPCs in any location, I will tie together all of the character's missions together into a single threat quickly enough.

 

That said, you can also choose to begin in a previously established Location as well, or simply make a smaller location in a large one- for example, start in a different city within a previously established Country/Kingdom is acceptable.

 

[spoiler= Continent of Satus]

 

The largest continent, Satus is located slightly south of the World's Equator and dips down near the Southern Pole in a slightly pointed, almost triangular shape with an edge facing the equator line, with a slight Northeastern tilt.

 

Comprised of several Countries and Kingdoms, Satus is relatively peaceful at the moment, though it is well-known for its volatile political nature. Several main forces constantly vie for control of the land, however they end up in an inevitable gridlock as alliances between nations quickly crumble in on eachother, ending each war with minuscule differences in land and massive wastes of resources. The average citizen of any given nation is generally safe, however any solider or military career is guarantied to carry upon it a high rank in society, fetch a hefty salary, and see a lot of combat.

 

Due to military advancements, the nations of Satus are reasonably advanced for their time. They are accomplished metalsmiths and can make fairly complex suits of armor and weapons, though most are highly experimental. While their technology has progressed to the point where they are capable of rather complex experiments and even some dabbling in electricity, very little of this trickles down to the lower levels, replaced instead by Mundane studies in Magic. Satus is a leader in the human applications of Magic, however in recent years, spellweaving has lost popularity in favor of more complex and reliable scientific methods, and been regulated for more mundane use. It is not uncommon for a common butcher to know a couple rudimentary spells to keep meat cold and fresh. While wizards and magistrates are respected nearly as much as the military Crown Scientists, the former are rarely paid as much as the later, nor cared about as much by rulers.

 

Satus has a generally hot climate, and little humidity in the air even towards its Northern tip. It has little variation in plant life, generally regulated to a wide selection of fresh-water reed-relations and short shrub and grass species. Towards the west exist large stretches of flat desert, covered in wide dunes that have been reported to swish back and forth due to the high winds kicked up by the famous Desert Storms created by great waves crashing against the west end of the continent. Their desert is particularly notable for its large Feral Dragon collection, including several tribes of the generally human-friendly Illusionist Blue Dragons, the far less amicable and wolflike Stonescale Dragons, and the unpredictable snakelike Naga Dragons. Though their populations have suffered due to the wide propagation of humans and the popularity of hunting of their species, the Blue Dragons have a tenuous truce with the human civilizations that states they will not attack human civilizations so long as the humans return the favor, the other species of Dragonkind following suit more out of fear of the human retaliation than actual respect.

 

[spoiler= Kingdom of Exigo]

 

The most financially successful Kingdom within the Continent of Satus, Exigo is ruled by a conventional Monarch and a group of six Dukes below them. Unlike the other nations of the area, Exigo has been trying to shy away from being a combat nation and moving towards merchant conquering, as as such has become the continent's middleman for any large-source transactions.

 

Exigo is location in the middle-western portion of Satus, and paradoxically borders a nearby desert, a lakeside and a large forest all at once. The nearby desert is unnamed, and considered incredibly dangerous; It plays host to an unusually large tribe of Blue Dragonkind, who while more amicable than the average dragon, do not take lightly to trespassers, and more violent Rockscale Dragons lingering in the father north.

 

Staying neutral in nearly all matters, Exigo keeps an elite Royal Guard army for which it uses to fend off the smaller nations that would like to prey on their rather fat Royal Coffers. The armies of Exigo are small due to their lack of martial activity, but well trained and equipped with top of the line weaponry and armor, making them highly renown by the other nations for their effectiveness and ability in combat. Their reputation is such that many immigrants from the other nations come to seek combat tutilidge from their Grand-Masters, and as such become Mercenaries and hired Swords for the largest bidder, based on the reputation of the training they had received. Despite this, however, there are few positions for high-ranking military, and they bear not the same drawn salary that a high-ranking military official of a more battle-inclined nation.

 

Exigo, unlike most of the other nations, put little stock into the military scientific achievements of the other nations, putting them in some respects at a disadvantage. That said, they have one of the most respected Wizard Academies in the continent, and a relatively new growing force: The Guild of Alchemists.

 

Though the Guild has just started, their theories of combining Magical Disciplines with scientific achievements has already yielded surprisingly effective medications and war-weapons far beyond anything already seen. Poised to become a very powerful and elite force indeed, the Guild guards its secrets and members jealously, and is almost completely independent of the Monarchy of Exigo.

 

 

[spoiler= City of Lascivio]

 

Lascivio is the capital of Exigo, and contains the Royal Castle. Constructed in three tiers, the Royal Third, the Merchant Third and the Commons, it is a relatively modern and pleasant area to live in, taxed relatively sparsely compared to other cities and with a minor population of beggars.

 

The Royal Quarter is contained past the main Castle Wall, and holds the households of the Six Dukes of Exigo, in addition to the Royal Castle of Exigo, housing the Royal Family. It is protected by an elite corps of King's Guards, and contains the Royal Gardens. As a way to reduce dissatisfaction among the lower Castes, Commoners are allowed to visit the Gardens during the day hours, and may request an audience with either the King himself or one of the Dukes, should they have an issue they wish resolved or a complaint to be lodged.

The Royal Third contains large amounts of plants and flowers, and is easily the most Beautiful part of the city. It contains its own water supply, and houses a decorative moat from which fish can be caught. While Royals generally do not stray from the Third, they are permitted to visit any of the other Thirds whenever they wish. While members of the Royal Family generally marry for political power, the sons and daughters of Duke households frequently marry within the Merchant and even Commoner Castes from time to time.

 

The Merchant third is located in a tier below the Royal Third, and is notable for being entirely paved with large, flat stones. Containing the shops and stores from all across the continent, it is one of the few neutral areas delegates from all across the world may gather to do business without worrying about embargoes or political tensions. Several wealthy merchant families and visitors from foreign nations live and sleep within the Merchant Third.

While not as extravagant as the Royal Third, the Merchant Third is kept clean and well-defended. There is little petty crime due to the widespread presence of the guards and policies of honor honor regarding bribes. Thieves captured are required to pay a sum equal to three times that which they attempt to steal, and if they cannot, are either killed or incarcerated if other family members or friends may pay for their release. Occasionally, Nobles hire servants from the Prisons for penny wages, in exchange for bailing them.

 

The Commons is the general area populated by the serf and common class. Unlike the other thirds, it is not paved, and is found outside protective walls, however it has a much larger area than the other two. Sprawling out for a good few miles, it seems to resemble several small rural villages growing out of an urban supercenter. Thereis some farmland, however the majority of the residents find work within the city itself, aiding the merchants or Guilds in various ways.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It began, like most things, not in the way you would expect.

 

It was around dusk when the two knocked on my father's door. My mother had died recently -last winter, in fact, from a plague that had been drifting through-, and it had simply been us two since then.

 

Well, not quite, let me rephrase that. We were both peasants living in the Commons of Lascivio, and me being a girl while he was a crippled aging man, we probably wouldn't have made it if it was simply us two alone. We had one benefit- a helper named Benedicto.

 

Perhaps it's best if we started from the very begining before we start on these two strangers... See, I was the only daughter of Percival Lycan Ordan, formally a Knight in the service of the Royal Guard. Tiring of the lack of action found in his countries' bounds, he, like many others, became a Hired Sword in the service of a small branch of the Alchemist' guild, who paid good sums to people willing to protect them while they headed out into the Nameless Desert to take samples. Samples of what, he never knew, but he did it anyway, leaving my mother home with his monthly allowance from the King to sustain both her and myself, who was only around two years of age at the time.

 

Though I never heard the details, apparently the trip somehow went wrong. Not exactly a rare occurrence in the Nameless Desert, but a wrong beyond what most people got... well, and lived through, at least.

 

Father never really spoke too much about that day, though from fragments I grasped that he had somehow fended off the assault of a Noble Demon, a fiendish beast from the Infernal Plain that lived for destruction and evil, representing all that was wrong with magic. Though he defeated the demon, he was unable to kill it, surviving only by turning its own magic in upon it. Demons use a special pen, with which they can use to force Mortals to sign over their souls- Or, as my father found out, could be used to fragment their own. Lanced by his own power, the demon imploded into several pieces, most of which retreated back to the Infernal Plain. Of those that remained, however, were an accursed Blade containing the War and bloodlust of the beast, and a scrap of parchment with its True Name written upon it, containing the majority of its mind and magical prowess.

 

The rest of his men killed and mutilated by his vicious fight with an avatar of war itself, my father would have died then and there if he weren't saved by a Blue Dragon. The Winged Azure, the gentlemen of the Desert as they were called, lead him to one of their secret springs from which they saved his life using their magical abilities.

 

Noticing the power of the Demonic Sword was corrupting and tearing apart the man's mind, one particularly elderly and powerful dragon offered to tear away the powers of the blade, in exchange for a blood pact with the human. When the man agreed to whatever terms the dragon specified, his mind was relieved of the dangerous phantom and the sword was shattered, its powers bleeding through the waters of the spring and tainting it into what I now know was called the Spring of Black Blood. It was then, however, that the dragon revealed his conditions.

 

Firstly, my father would never again return to the Nameless desert, as he had been affected by their magic and a human who knew such things was a danger to them.

 

Secondly, he would never again fight against another physically. This was not a term made out of greed by the dragon, but out of sense; With the wounds he had received from the dragon, triggering a relapse would be fatal.

 

And finally, the last stipulation from which I never learned until it was far too late; The hand of his first-born daughter, in marriage, to not the Dragon himself, but youth chosen to be the next Prince of their kind.

 

It stood to reason, then, that they would one day collect. Why my father never made this clear to me, I did not know. Was it shame? Perhaps he was afraid I would run away, and thus leave him at the mercy of the Blue Dragons? Or perhaps he thought I would not accept the idea if I was told before hand? Either way, I would never gain any information from him- instead, it was Benedicto that I gained all my insight from.

 

Oh, right, did I not mention Benedicto?

 

You see, from the scrap of parchment the demon had also left, containing his name, arose a new demon. Or, as he says, a "Tithling", a fragment of a demon created when they are killed in a highly magical way. Due to his unusual birth, he could only exist given one thing- that he had a goal for, from which he could put all his effort towards.

 

My father, unable to work and with a young daughter and sickly wife at the time, only wanted one thing; Someone to help them. And just like that, that is what Benedicto became; A Tithling whose purpose in life simply became to help us.

 

He worked, several days a week, with the Mages in their nearby bastion in magical research. He was a natural, of course. While he held none of the combat prowess of his 'parent', Benedicto was still gifted with the magical affinity of a demon, and was handsomely compensated for his time. His money, of course, came back to us to live off of; We had to move from the Merchant's Third in order to make ends meet originally, but since then, we had been functioning perfectly fine. I, personally, liked Benedicto; Unlike the unhappy, scowling shell of a man that was my father, he was well-groomed and pleasant to speak to. He would always have some tale, or interesting piece of information to share with me if I asked, and helped around with the daily chores when he was able. In a way, he was also my parent, along with my mother and father, though he never seemed to get any older. He taught me some of magic, to the chagrin of both of my parents; Never anything too potent, but to summon a small fire, or grow a tiny plant to full bloom in half an our, that sort of thing. Apparently, I was something of a natural (at least as far as the Mages Guild saw), and was often roped into small lessons by random Magi who happened to pass me by. I never learned too much, but eventually, things started to accumulate, and I became a formal apprentice to the Mage's Guild. It paid fairly well, and I was happy for it, to have something to do each day.

 

After that happened, Benedicto seemed to get a little closer to me. He shared more personal details, especially about his previous life as a true and full demon. While many aspects which honestly grisly, I did hang on to every word I could get about his meeting of my father, and eventually I did manage to wring from him almost every detail I've told you thusfar.

 

Well, except for the most important part, of course...

 

In the middle of October and several months past my eighteenth birthday and in the breath of dusk, came two men, knocking on my father's door. Benedicto answered the door, and let them in hesitantly. My father tensed up and muttered when he saw them. I honestly didn't know who they were, simply that there was an old man, with long white hair and slightly tanned skin, wearing slightly eccentric robes accompanied by a nervous-looking boy, who was at most equal to my age, holding a bouquet of rare and honestly beautiful waterflowers. Such things would go for a fair bit of money at the time...

 

The older man began talking to my father, though I really didn't notice. I was too surprised by the young man, garbed in strange silk clothing and seemingly younger than I was, who asked me in none-too certain terms if I would marry him.

 

I wasn't exactly pleased when I heard my father confirm that for me.

[Otaku-sama]

[spoiler=Location]

[spoiler=Continent of Satus]

[spoiler=Kingdom of Exigo]

[spoiler=City of Lascivio]

[spoiler=Duchy of Castlevand]

Castlevand is the most wealthy of the six duchies of Exigo, mostly due to the newest Duke of Castlevand started the kingdom's financial edge. Castlevand has the lowest percentage of serfs and the highest percentage of merchants of the six as well, being the first to specialize into trade. This resulted into most of the duchy being like one massive metropolis rather than several villages separated by farmland. The standard of living is very high in Castlevand and the only place where one could find more variety in its markets is in the city of Lascivio itself. The quality of living for the serfs is also easier than the average serf as they farm more land and have access to the finest farming equipment in the land. All this wealth lead to the construction of the massive Floating Gardens of Castlevand, a very large pyramid shaped building with steps in the pyramid that holds pools of water where aquatic plants grow. The building is hollow inside, where there are yet more pools of water with plants in them. The building itself is constructed out of fine limestone and lined with bright red granite, making it the most opulent and treasured garden in Exigo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Duke Ewan J. Sinclair, Duke of Castlevand and High Inquisitor to His Highness the King" was his full name and title and how he was known throughout most of Exigo. He never enjoyed this title, it made him seem like another hauty nobleman who trod on the heads of the people below him. His position as Inquisitor never helped him seem like a nicer person either. In his five years of leading the Inquisition, he sealed the death warrants of 67 interbred, spies and mercenaries, apparently in the name of the King. It was an unsavory job, but Ewan had never learned how to properly say no to a monarch.

 

He sat in his garden in the Royal Quarter, the Castlevand sixth. His manor was rather small in comparison with the other Dukes, who relished in flaunting their wealth with the serfs and other noblemen. Ewan would have none of it. He felt that if he showed humility, he would be able to avoid the evil eye. Castlevand did have many magicians and he never knew which one could cast the evil eye. His garden was especially opulent, however. It was built and grown on, inside and around a massive pyramid like building. Tropical plants from the four corners of the world had been imported and float from pools all over the building. It was his pride and joy of him and everyone in Castlevand.

 

As he sat, he listened to the sound of running water as he watched the noblemen and their wives stand around in awe, not knowing where to start. He hoped for a peaceful day, but he would not have it. He heard a disturbance at the entrance and to his disappointment, two of his inquisitorial guards came in dragging in a ragged man with striking white hair and very tan skin uncharacteristic of the serfs of the area.

 

"Sire, we have found this interbred trying to steal from the market! How should he be punished?" one of the guards reported while both of them bowed in respect. Ewan sighed. He could never have a peaceful day without having to sentence some poor man to punishment. As the guards reported, many of the occupants stopped enjoying the plants and turned to watch the unfolding scene.

 

"Please! I beg mercy! I have six hungry children! They won't be able to survive without me! Mercy!!!" the man begged on the verge of tears. His begging resonated through the whole garden building. Now anyone who didn't notice the scene now did. Ewan looked around and thought deeply for a minute before the guards interuppted him.

 

"Sire, your verdict?"

 

Ewan sighed again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

 

"Send him to the dungeon and give him the whip. Don't kill him," Ewan said in his authoritative voice. The guards dragged the man away, leaving the garden in silence. It was quickly broken by whispers from the visitors, no doubt questioning his methods. Ewan sat in his spot in shame.

[Spartan919]

[spoiler=Location][spoiler=Continent of Satus][spoiler=Kingdom of Gravacia] The Kingdom of Gravacia is a sentient kingdom, one of the least financial kingdoms on Satus. Although the continent is blessed with high technology, Gravacia prefers to stick to a low-tech, high-toil, way of life. The technology is available to anyone who wishes it; it's just that everyone prefers to use their own bodies instead. Most people that live in Gravacia spend their time farming, either cash crops, food crops, or livestock. Thus, the people that inhabit Gravacia are usually quite large and/or strong, owing to the fact that they wield heavy tools and carry heavy loads every day of their lives. The life of a Gravacian is a hard one, but a happy one.

 

Gravacia is located on the far West of Satus. On one side, they are bordered by the seas, on another, the mountains. To the east, a great forest rises up, restricting access to Gravacia to one direction. The forest has many roads that connect it to the kingdom of Exigo, but anyone that strays from the paths is quickly, and quietly, consumed by the beasts of the forest

 

The kingdom has spent nearly nothing on a military. That being, they had to have some way of defending themselves, so the kingdom formed a formal militia. Anyone could join, as long as they were the right age and size. Though not the most trained of armies, Gravacia possesses one of the largest ones on the continent, thanks to all the people that have joined the militia.

 

Gravacia, and its council, have decided to remain neutral in foreign matters. They decided that they need not be concerned with the needs of other countries, unless it interferes directly with the affairs of their own economy or welfare. They restrain their militia from attacking any other country, unless a unanimous vote by the council is submitted.

 

[spoiler=The Town of Aranavan] Aranavan is the capital of the kingdom of Gravacia. And thus, holds a larger population than any other town in the kingdom. Aranavan is home to many vast farms that mark Gravacia as a farming area. Aranavan is also home to the largest schools in the kingdom, including the Academy of Knights, the Alchemical Academy of Aranavan, and the Aranavan Public School System.

 

A royal castle, small in comparison to some, lies at the top of a small mountain, protruding out of the land. From it, walls expand forth, enclosing the main city-area of Aranavan, including markets, schools, warehouses, stables, and the Militia House. Although no kingdom has invaded Gravacia, Aranavan is prepared to keep any intruders out of the area.

 

 

 

 

 

Dreaming:

*I opened my eyes; there, staring back, were two hard pools of hazel. My father kicked me, and barked for me to get up. I groaned, then rolled over, and pushed myself up onto my feet. Even though I was only twelve, I was almost as tall as my 48-year-old father, though he had a beard. I rub my eyes, trying to scrape any remnant of sleep from my eyes.

 

"Hurry up, jackass." I sighed; my father never had been one for words. I quickly brought my tunic over my head, and pulled on a worn pair of britches. When I was fully dressed, I picked my hat up off the ground, and placed it on my head. "Good, now let's go." I followed him out of the house, and brought a hand up to shade my eyes from the glare of the rising sun. As I did so, I caught sight of a man hurrying toward us. He appeared to be a messenger, wearing the clothes of the council.

 

He stopped before Father, looked up at him, and blinked. My father was quite a terrifying man, a 6'5". He towered over the messenger. Finally, the messenger opened his mouth, and began to speak. His voice was stringy, almost like the sound an untuned bandola might make.

 

"Are you Michael Clawborne, son of Aiken Clawborne?" Father nodded, and I squinched my eyes. That was the first time I had heard my grandfather's name; Father never spoke of him. "I have come with a request from the great king of Gravacia." Now THAT was interesting; why would the king want my father? He was just a farmer, like everyone else in the bloody kingdom. "He sends out the order for all men in this household over the age of thirteen be sent to the Academy of Knights, for training as militia; also, for all men over the age of eighteen that now how to use a blade come to the royal castle, and join the militia." Father's face darkened, and he reached his hand back. His hand grasped the sword that he always wore on his back.

 

"Aye, I have a sword, and I know how to use it. Is it really necessary to recruit militiamen at this time?" The messenger nodded. "Very well, my son and I will be there after we finish for the day." The messenger tried to protest, but was pushed away by Father.

...

My eyes popped open. It was my seventeenth birthday! I am now officially a man. I stood up, and got dressed in my finest clothes, granted they aren't much. I saw that it was past dawn, and my father had already gone out to reap the fields. On the entrance to our home, I saw a hastily scribbled note. 'My son, congratulations. You are now seventeen. Your mother is out helping me in the fields, so I want you to go into town, and enjoy the day.' I blinked back tears of happiness, and exited the home.

 

As I walked on the road into town, I wondered at all the things that I would be able to do now that I was a man. Drinking, fighting, soon I'll even get my own farm! It was just too exciting to think about! On reaching the town, I was undecided on what I should do, so I just wandered around looking at the merchants and the schools. I felt the bag of gold that I held tied to my waist. The jingle of my own hard-earned money felt good. I spent the entire day living, I could swear, one of the best days of my life.

...

That night, as I was walking home, I noticed a strange glow on the horizon. I could tell that it was not the sunset, for the colors and area were all wrong. After a moment, I saw smoke rising in the air. A cry burst out of my lips, and I broke into a run...But I was too late. When I reached my farm home, I saw that everything had been razed. Everything that could be taken, had been taken. I decided that I would search the scorching house over, seeing if I could recover anything from the wreckage. When I reached my parents' room, the breath left me, and I fell down to weep.

 

There, laying on the bed, were two smoldering corpses; two exact copies of my parents, except burnt, and dead. I stay in that room for I know not how long, weeping until my face ran dry. I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up and shivered. I looked again at the bodies, then formed a silent pact. No matter how long it took me, or how far I would have to go, I would find and kill the ones who had done this to me...to my family. But first, I had to continue searching the house.

 

The whole place was completely scorched. I almost couldn't recognize as my home anymore. Only the fragments of my memories, an old stuffed doll, a brush of my mother's, told me the truth. I continued searching. When I reached my room, I felt the tears threatening to come back. I swallowed them down, and entered. I saw that most everything was a black, ashen color. My bed was a glowing heap of embers. But suddenly, in that heap, I saw a glint as nothing I had ever seen before. I ran over, and pulled it up. I stared in awe at what I held in my hand. Wrapped in a protective metal case, I held the most beautiful sword I had ever seen. It was a monster of a sword, easily five or six feet long, and strange runes which I could not read coated the weapon.

 

Along with the sword was a bow. The bow was crafted out of some metal-wood hybrid, and was also engraved with unreadable runes. Last, I looked at the quiver of arrows. They were the most perfectly crafted arrows I had ever seen. Ibroke into tears again, and clutched the new treasures close to my body. After some time, I fell asleep.*

[fenrir]

[spoiler=Continent of Satus]

[spoiler=Rikin Territories]

A large mountainous and snowy region located at the Southern most point of the Continent of Satus. The Rikin Territories were always a controversial location. On one hand, you have a relatively beautiful snow land area. Little forests, mostly mountainous with lovely mountain flowers that would pop in between rocks. Yet on the other, you have a wasteland filled with terrifying beasts. The beasts themselves are a natural defense, because of them the area is still simply a territory and thus not owned by any Kingdom. There are legends of wolf-men and dragonic like creatures residing deeper in the mountains, but only legends.

 

 

 

 

 

Run run run run run! Faster faster!

 

Those were the only words running through Rainer's head at the moment. In retrospect he should of tempted to dive down into the massive snow ocean in front of him. At least then he would die of hypothermia. But no. He just had to get mauled.

 

It was a week after he was kicked out by his master, and he wasn't faring all too well. He has stumbled upon the lair of some Ryens. Which, were large hairless Hyenas with rather large jutting spines. They looked extremely stupid, yet ran oh so fast. And it was always confusing as to why they were hairless. Didn't creatures need hair to survive in the cold?

 

But alas, no time to debate that. Rainer continued his run, and realized a little too late that he was going downhill. Something that wasn't the best option at the moment.

 

As he picked up speed, he quickly opted to take the fast way out. With fast reflexes, he quickly bent down and wrapped his hands around his legs. From that moment on, he had no idea where he was going.

 

The snow rushed by his face and ears, the spots where his rogue-ish armor didn't were constantly bombarded by the freezing feeling of the snow. Then he came to stop. A rather hard, rocky stop.

 

((Sorry, I'm pressed for time right now. I'll post some more tomorrow.))

[Naimo]

[spoiler=Far Mountains]

The name says it all; the Far Mountains' location is in the eastern side of Satus. The Far Mountains are a stretch of rather jagged and pointed mountains, which gradually leads to a huge plain of overgrown grass, wildlife, etc. The plain plays host to five vast forests which all join at a certain point to form one big forest overall.

 

There are two noticeable locations: directly in the middle, where the forests meet, is a simple stone well that is, somehow, often filled with water. The well is believed to be a spiritual place, as 'miracles' often happen around there. The second notable location is a massive waterfall which runs between the two shortest mountain peaks. The water, which is initially icy blue, then runs off into a river, at which point the water is now sky-blue. The river cuts through the forest, and finishes in a lake, at which point the water is now an azure colour. This lake is the main source of water where the animals drink from.

 

 

--------------------------

 

Raxi'iara was perhaps the only permanent resident of the Far Mountains. Being one with nature, it was hardly surprising she fancied that very location more than anywhere; along with the marvel that was the waterfall and the well, just those two locations alone was enough to draw her attention to a place of such great natural beauty. Her wooden hut was placed directly in between these two landmarks, allowing her to travel to either location with ease.

 

It was funny how Raxi'iara found herself running, leaping and swinging about more than she flew. The angel wings were there, present on her back, and yet she seldom used them. Perhaps her disuse of her wings was down to her childhood; her Angel father had abandoned her Elven mother since he had discovered she had conceived a child, leaving Raxi'iara to be raised and socialised by her mother alone. As the general sociology would say, we are socialised through primary and secondary agent of socialisation; the family was a primary agent, and indeed the first agent we are exposed to, and it is through the family that we learn many of our norms, values, and appropriate ways of behaviour. Perhaps it was seeing her own mother - who possessed no wings of her own - moving about in such a physical manner, and subsequently copying her, that Raxi'iara moved just like her.

 

Raxi'iara had no problem flying, but she felt, to an extent, uncomfortable whilst in the air. Her feet were designed to touch the damp soil, to be tickled by the blades of grass, to be at risk of being bitten, either harmlessly or to be strengthened (for poison had the opposite effect upon Raxi'iara; instead of killing or weakening the body, she actually gained from them, and usually put this boosted strength to great use while it would last), and not to be dangling in the air, exposed to the elements that composed of the fresh air.

 

Presently, Raxi'iara was kneeling behind a row of thick bushes, her eyes spying her target, a wolf. Her hand was already grasped on her bow; she reached for an arrow resting in her quiver, and her hand closed around one. Making as minimum noise as possible, she slowly drew it out of the quiver like she was drawing her dagger, and strung her bow. As she did this, her eyes scanned her leafy shield, looking for a suitable gap in the thick foliage to fire her arrow from. The wolf was blissfully unaware of her presence, something which she was thankful for as she pulled her bow back. Almost no noise escaped the bow, and as she held it before her, she shut one eye and focused; it was odd how she still had to delay firing, even though this had been a good part of her life for the 200 years she had been living.

 

A master archer doesn't even need to poise themself, she thought to herself as she fired. The arrow whistled through the gap, and straight into the side of the wolf's neck. Knowing she had killed it, she leapt over the bush and approached her dead target. She gingerly pulled the arrow out of the wolf and, displaying her physical strength, lifted up the wolf, holding it in both her hands. She could have just skinned and ate the wolf on the spot, but she considered it rather unpleasant - which was odd, given how she was the only human-like inhabitant in the far mountains - but all these came back to the general sociology. Raxi'iara's mother had socialised her into going back home before eating her food, and even until now, Raxi'iara still abided by her mother's teaching.

[Hydra of Ages]

Being told you were going to marry someone you -literally- never knew before that moment was one thing. Though marriages quite like that were fairly rare in Exigo (especially among the lower-chastes, where marrying for money or position was rather difficult considering everyone had roughly the same amount of income), they certainly weren't unheard of, and women weren't exactly under the delusion that they'd even get to pick their partners, less even that they'd be anyone they personally knew well or liked. They did, however, expect to be of the same species as their partner. Or have, you know, heard of them prior to the agreement.

 

Considering I had grown up with a tithling servant, a bitter, crippled knight for a father and enough magic education even at relatively young ages to qualify for an apprenticeship with the Guild, I hardly expected to be one to be married off. Heck, considering that between my own fair wage, Father's Royal Allowance each week due to past services to the monarch and Benedicto's wages we were a household significantly better off financially than just about anyone else in our area, I expected to be courted. Slightly conceited maybe, but it was what I thought.

 

To be fair, my first thought about the situation at first wasn't that it was entirely unfair, but rather that I could do worse. He was a bit young, probably about 17, and really didn't seem sure of himself... but as far as husbands went, he wasn't really an eyesore. He wore the same odd, flamboyant costume as his elderly accomplice beside him did, bright blue with green beads and dangling pieces of metal hanging off it. The sleeves were extraordinarilly wide and upon closer investigation, his robe did indeed have leggings, wide though they were. He was about two or so inches shorter than I was, and I was fairly tall for a girl, maybe about 5'6, though his anxious wobbling back and forth on the ball of his foot and the massive bouquet he carried carried an artificial implication of height.

 

He had dark raven hair, which I swore was some shade of blue when seen by its individual strands. He had long bangs that constantly got in his face, requiring him to brush them back, though they matched the rest of his cut. His hair was extraordinarilly long, far more so than mine, which went to about the center of my back. His draped past his waist, ending maybe an inch or so above his calf muscle, though I noticed most of it was bound back, presumably to make a better impression.

 

I noticed he had no eye color; It took a second, but observing his eyes revealed that it was simply the white and a pupil, which flared open and closed much in the same fashion of a snake, though the edges of the pupil when constricted had a faint blue aura about them. The effect might have been creepy, were his eyes looking anywhere near me. He seemed much too nervous to even conceive of looking at his bride-to-be, instead prefering to switch between looking at his white-haired companion, the floor, the door he had just came through, his bouquet, or when he was feeling particularly brave, at my father. Notably, he squirmed a lot more when I looked at his eyes, to my amusement.

 

The older man and my father were talking, presumably working out marriage arrangements. Neither thought to talk to me, or even to the youth looking sheepish around me. He'd even forgotten to give me the selection of flowers he was holding- Seriously? I generally imagined the males in arranged marriages were more the arrogant, annoying self-righteous type not the quiet, nervous, flakey-variety.

 

"So... are those for me, or..." I ventured. He seemed shocked that I spoke and stuttered out an apology, before handing me the selection of plants rather clumsilly. I took them quickly, sniffed them quickly (they had a pleasent, watery scent that I admit I enjoyed), setting them on a nearby table carefully. I noticed that Benedicto was watching me thoughtfully. I glanced up at him, tall with perfect features that almost seemed too beautiful to be masculine. He had bright ginger hair, slightly longer than normal but honestly dwarfed by the manes of the two visitors. His red length of hair extended only slightly past the shoulders, and was bound into a small tail with a piece of black twine.

 

He had bright orange irises. Apparently, from what his stories had told me, his looks were quite common for Mid-level Demonkind; a sort of perfect human, seperated only by their unnatural flawlessness and brightly colored eyes. It was a method they used to unsettle people they came into contact with- As a Tithling, Benedicto really had no choice but to carry the same shape as his 'parent' did.

 

"So. What do you think about this, Fabula?" he asked. Fabula was his nickname for me, as far as I could gather. He never really elaborated on it, and considering the strange sort of accent he (and apparently all demons) spoke with, it was hard to tell in which tone he was saying it. In any case, he'd never called me anything else, which caused me no end of confusion when I was younger. It was in no means unique to me; Benedicto never called anyone by their given name. I figured it must be a demon thing.

 

"What do you mean?" I responded slightly slightly begrudgingly. "Of course I don't like it. I don't even know that guy, and he already seems like a flake." I muttered, gesturing for a second at the still-awkward seeming teen, who suddenly tensed when he figured he was being talked about.

 

The tithling chuckled a little to himself. "I wouldn't judge him based on his looks, Fabula. I don't know, but something about Parvulus intrigues me..."

 

Parvulus? Must be his name for my suitor, then. Still had no idea what it meant, though I assumed Benedicto must see the relevance. I often wondered if he had some sort of system in making his names, as he never seemed to forget any.

 

"Like what?" I asked, honestly curious. Benedicto usually had an interesting perspective on things.

 

Benedicto pursed his sculpture-perfect lips and didn't respond immediately, instead watching the younger of the two visitors intently with his hawklike eyes. After a few seconds, he sighed a little.

 

"I don't know, truthfully." he admitted. "But there is something inheritly weird about this. I know of no reason a dragon would want a human to marry into their family. Especially royalty."

 

"Royalty?" I asked, my interest piqued.

 

Benedicto nodded slowly. "Parvulus there is dragon royalty, clear as day. Blue Dragon monarchs have a very specific set of biological aspects that mark them as a possible leader, all of which are rather glaring in that youth."

 

He hesitated for a moment. "In the old man, also. I would imagine he is their current leader."

 

I blinked, looking at the elderly man conversing with my father. Like my suitor, he had hair past his waist, though his was unbound and snow-white. His skin was loose and baggy, and he had the same reptilian eyes. He was fairly tall, about 6'4 if I had to guess. Other than that, though, I couldn't see anything particularly kingly about them.

 

"You sure?" I asked skeptically. Benedicto nodded sagely. "Indeed. Things aren't always what they seem, especially with magical species. Blue Dragons in particular have always been a highly attuned species, far more so than their feral cousins. You should know as well as anyone else that the mystical arts can make unsuspecting objects quite dangerous indeed."

 

I had to grant him that. It was difficult to peg the senior as leading a vicious pack of magical reptiles, but I'm sure it was equally hard to peg me as someone who could summon fireballs at will.

[fenrir]

((Character's Current Quest: To obtain a flaming sword. Totally.))

 

A nice 'thud' followed by more bombardment of snow wasn't what he was expecting, or even hoping for. In fact, it put him at more of a disadvantage than he was in before. Given that at least he could of maybe jumped a nice distance to gain a few yards in his run. As Rainer sat by himself against the now visibly jutting rock, searching for any sign of a wound he realized why those Ryens were able to run in the snow so skillfully. They had freaking long legs.

 

As the pack continued to run down the hill at an increasing speed, Rainer climbed onto the rock. What was once a problem was now a nice opportunity. Finally the pack reached the flat ground, snow churning around them. They began to circle the rock, clearly they didn't plan on letting up. So for a moment, Rainer decided to backtrack. Sitting down on this rock, the jutting spikes had luckily made an opening to which he could crawl into as a temporary shelter, which he had taken advantage of. Pulling his hood down, he recalled his previous locations.

 

Around the beginning up last week, he was near the mountains. There was a blizzard at that time, and it was just best to hang around in the caves and wait out the storm. Rather then to risk it and trek through said storm. But of course, there was then the question about food. His armor, luckily, made it extremely simple to live in this blasted territory. As long as he had some sort of heat, life was made easy. Well, heat and a sword.

 

Whichever comes first really. Considering you can't mold fire into a sword, the latter seems like a better choice.

 

Wait, that would be pretty damn cool. A fire sword. Yeah, he would totally use one.

 

Before he could continue his rambling, the sound of pebbles and bits of rock falling down into the snow broke his silence. A Ryen decided he was tired of waiting, and thought it would try to coax, Rainer out of his shell. Slowly, his right hand dipped behind him and grasped something. A hilt, a silver hilt. Even slower, the weapon was pulled out of it's sheath. As Rainer inched himself out of his shelter, he drew a black dagger from his waist. With both dagger and sword in hand, the Ryen approached.

 

-----

 

Night descended on the Rikin Territories, the bodies of Ryens littered throughout the snowy fields only meant that something rather disconcerting had happened, or was happening.

 

A lone figure trudged through waist deep in snow. Instead of a clean, white path, there was only blood. Still gripping both sword and dagger, Rainer gritted his teeth and muttered.

 

"I'll be DAMNED if I don't get a flaming sword! I don't care if I have to freaking CARVE through waves of DRAGONS to get that SWORD."

[Otaku-sama]

Ewan was not able to stay in the gardens for long after his reluctant display of power out of shame and the jeers from the people in the garden. He quickly walked home, his stance clearly showing that he had somewhere to go. His manor wasn't too far away from the garden and the path to it was paved in fine stone tile. Everyone on the path cleared a way for Ewan, some of them bowing in respect and others shooting angry stares at him. When he finally reached the gates of his manor, instead of taking the rest of the path to the chateau, he took a sharp right turn towards a very large statue of a double headed eagle looking north and south. Looking around to make sure no one was around, he walked to the far side of the statue's base and pulled on a hidden handle. The statue rumbled and make a creaking noise as it shifted to the side by itself to reveal a staircase into the ground.

 

He walked down the stairs, the wide staircase illuminated by torches put at regular intervals. As he walked deeper, the moans and groaning of a man could be heard, getting louder and stronger the deeper he got. These moans were interrupted with indecipherable shouting and loud cracks. After what felt like an eternity, he reached the bottom of the staircase, revealing a gruesome sight.

 

It was a cold dark cave lined with cold stone bricks. The natural formations of the cave cast sinster shadows from the torchlight. The walls had chains and shackles hanging from them, some of them covered in blood. Many machines of malice lay about, including the rack, the iron maiden and even a guillotine with varying sizes of holes for different parts of the body to be dismembered. The blade was thankfully still clean and shined in the dim light. Ewan walked into a cell in the dungeon, where he saw the purpose of his trip.

 

He saw the same pickpocket he sent to torture getting brutally whipped by the same guards who brought him to the dungeon and the torture-master, a massive muscular man with pale skin and wore a leather mask and trousers. They seemed to relish in the torture of the interbred until they noticed that the Duke had entered. As soon as they noticed, they immediately stopped, faced him and bowed.

 

"Your Excellency, we were just carrying out your orders. I hope everything is to your standards," the torture-master said in an unexpectedly polite voice.

 

"Everyone out now," Ewan commanded curtly.

 

"But sire, the prisoner hasn't been tortur-"

 

"Out. Now," Ewan commanded more sternly, pointing out of the cell. The two guards and the torture-master reluctantly bowed and walked out. Now the prisoner was in full view. He was stripped of all clothing except for a mere rag and was covered in deep cuts and scratches. His limbs were shackled to the wall, forcing him in an open position, showing a body already scarred from a life of hardship. Ewan went into his coat pocket and retrieved a large iron key. He used the key to unshackle the prisoner, who slumped to the floor in exhaustion.

 

"Get up," Ewan commanded to the prisoner, who slowly got up, coughing. The man had a look of fear and anger in his eyes as he looked into Ewan's eyes. Ewan maintained a neutral expression despite staring what could be death in the face. Ewan took out a small drawpouch that seemed to be full of coinage.

 

"If you take this, you won't need to steal again. Now go back to your family, dress your wounds, get back to your fields and never speak of this again. Do you understand?" Ewan asked. The now freed man nodded weakly and took the pouch gently from the hands of Ewan. He shuffled his way to the entrance, gathering the clothes he was stripped of and walked the long way up the stairs. Ewan was left alone in the dark dungeon with his thoughts.

[Spartan919]

Jason woke up, and heard the tweeting of birds. He saw that he was in a forest, and for a moment, he was confused. Why was he in a forest, and not in his burned down house? Then the memories rushed him, and he knew why he was where he was. A tear glistened on his eye as he remembered that day. The people who killed his family would pay, of that he was sure. But then, and now, comes the problem of finding them. Because, truth be told, Jason had had no idea where he could look for his family's murderers. He had just set off in a fit of rage, and hoped that he would find them sooner or later.

 

And yet he had not found them 'sooner'. He had not found them at all, to be exact. And now, he was wandering in the forest East of Aranavan, with little food, only a small stream for water, and only the clothes on his back (not counting his weapons). He had not yet forged armor for himself, but he planned on doing it soon. After a few more moments of pondering, Jason stood.

 

As he stood, he saw the ground fly downwards. He now stood seven and a half feet tall, and was the tallest thing he had ever seen, not counting buildings and...some...trees. He gripped the blade on his back; it was the same one, as was the bow, as he had found under his bed. He was not sure, but he could swear that these weapons were going to be birthday gifts for him. He only wished his parents could be there, alive, to give him his gifts.