Author Topic: Chapter 1: Expedition  (Read 22657 times)

Offline sirpercival

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Chapter 1: Expedition
« on: April 03, 2013, 01:16:39 PM »
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The Days of Ashes are over, and the Great Stone Stairs of Borean are a river of black and grey as the petitioners, dressed in traditional mourning, descend the mountain back toward their homes.  The holiday ended this morning with the rising sun, and Singorn's capitol city, filled to capacity these last 7 days, seems empty and strangely desolate despite the normal bustle of market-day preparations.

A light spring rain in the wee hours washed the grime away, and the city seems fresh and new in the orange morning light.  You had planned to leave hours ago, ahead of the crowds, and yet... in Borean you remain.  You can't explain why.  You can't even explain why you came here for the Days of Ashes -- you had no petitions to make to the God-king, and the Days are observed throughout the Empire.  You could have celebrated anywhere.

With no real plans, you feel the urge to wander the city in the morning, watching the hawks soar between spires, and housewives in their somber garb sweep their porches.  People walking the street watch you warily, but without comment; adventurers strange and exotic move through these streets often, and the denizens of Borean are used to it.

You find yourself in the Great Square before the Palace, looking up at the massive edifice.  The architects who designed it were incredibly skilled; the Palace is the epitome of power and grace, a suitable home for the mythic personage that inhabits it.  You look about you, and see other adventurers gathered around the fountain in the Square, each stranger than the last.  What is this?

Then the huge wooden door of the Palace swings smoothly open, and Singorn himself steps into the Square.

The force of just his presence is almost overwhelming, though after a moment or two you grow somewhat accustomed to it.  The God-king stands in a shaft of light which peeks over the buildings, flooding the Square with wan sunshine.  He is dressed in breeches of loose grey silk, and a grey tunic which leaves his arms bare, with his symbol in white emblazoned on the chest.  The morning chill seems not to bother him, but their is a hint of sadness and old pain in his eyes.

The God-king speaks, his voice soft and yet clearly audible.  "I know you.  You have grown in the past years... new memories, new skills.  This is my doing, and it is why you are here.  I have called you here to request your aid."

He takes another step forward into the square.  You notice that there are guards behind him in the doorway, but they seem superfluous.  How could anything threaten this man?

"Each of you has within you both the potential for greatness, and the memory of greatness realized.  It is my hope that these two things in combination will be sufficient for all of us to survive the trials ahead... for the portents suggest that we will need everything in our power."

Singorn beckons, and a group of clerks scurry out of the Palace, dividing the assembled adventurers into three groups.  "I will speak to each group of you in turn.  If it pleases you, follow my attendants to your respective staging areas.  There is much to be done."



As the other people (or, in some cases, creatures) are led away in groups, you see that those remaining in the square are familiar to you -- people who have been members of Singorn's court for some time, and who have garnered at least a modicum of his personal trust through exceptional service and competence.

As Singorn departs to speak with the other groups, servants come around with refreshments, and ask you to gather in the God-king's Solarium in 2 hours.

After the allotted time, you find yourself in the Solarium, a large circular room taking up the top floor of the East tower.  The high noonday sun shines brightly through the dome of stained glass, painting the walls and floor a frenzy of colors.  A variety of lounging chairs is scattered around the thick, soft carpet.

For the moment, you are alone.
I am the assassin of productivity

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It's begun — my things have overgrown the previous sig.

Offline Harald

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #1 on: April 03, 2013, 02:31:01 PM »
A Legionnair was among the guests in the Solarium, standing at attention, observing the city through the windows.
His black and gold armor was unblemished, polished and oiled, as well as the medals and decorations dangling in front of his cheest. All cleaned up with utmost care, almost bordering to mania. At his side, instead of the traditional short sword or the pilae, he was bearing an heavily decorated mace.
Under his left arm, he was holding his helmet, which was decorated with a gold oak-leaf small crown, and the large crest with red & white plumes, the sign of a Centurion.
There was something strange about this man.
Not in his face. Square jaw, steely blue eyes, graying hair in the standard haircut, a leathery skin wrinkled by years of outdoor fighting, the stern expression one can expect from a dour officer.
Nor his size. He was a bit taller than normal, but not much. He looked like to be quite strong and thick, but that's expected from frontline heavy infantery.

What was wrong was his back. As it can't be seen.
For a pair of immaculate white feather wings was growing from his shoulders, unfurled for now, almost touching the ground behind him.

The Centurio kept quiet.
For he was already busy with a gabbler.
<Dude, why don't you just relax abit ? That's not a barrack inspection. Take a cup of wine, and go talk to the others !>
<If they want to, they will come to me. Leave me alone, Hadraniel.>
<C'me on, Hieronymus, don't be shy. That's the right time to meet your future brothers of arms !>
<How are you sure that they aree ?>
<Bro, all the signs are there ! We are all waiting the Plot Exposition from the Sponsor !>
<Are you sure ? I remember you told me that, according to the Laws of Narration, or whatever that means, we should all begin the Quest after meeting in a tavern, with a so-called Quest-giver coming, hidden in a gray cape, asking for adventurers...>
<That's the standard beginning, but you see, sometimes, Fate likes to vary her style, so that OH LOOK AT THE RAKE OF THAT BABE !!!!>
<....>

The Centurio sighed, as he dismissed politetly, the young servant offering him a cup of wine, still starring beyond the windows, perhaps a bit forcefully now.

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« Last Edit: April 03, 2013, 02:33:03 PM by Harald »
"-Lady-Captain, we detect 20 hostile vessels against us,  and Erasmus Haarlock's Spear of Destiny ! What are your orders ?
-RAMMING SPEED !

final result : 6 slaughts vessels, 4 imperial frigates, 2 imperial cruisers destroyed. Haarlock sent into the warp. 0 losses. Flawless Victory.

Offline Concerned Ninja Citizen

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #2 on: April 04, 2013, 12:34:53 AM »
A small dark shape stands at an edge of the room, the point touched least by the sun, though avoiding the sun in a solarium is rather the definition of a losing battle. It appears to be a child or, more probably in this context, one of the smaller races, dressed in a dark blue cloak over a black robe, both with deep hoods. There is little detail to be made out on the figure as, even in the bright solarirum, its garments seem to absorb the light leaving the body benath obscured by shadow.

Glancing around the room, Merrion decided trying to avoid the light was pointless. He had grown up an albino in the desert after all, he could handle a little sunshine. This time would be far better spent getting to know the rest of his unit, for what reason could Sigorn have for gathering them in a group for this audience if not to send them on some mission together?

Pulling back his outermost hood and arranging the inner so it framed his face rather than concealing it, showing round pink cheeks, short, near colorless hair, and red tinted eyes, Merrion walked over to the Centurion with the wings and stood by him looking out, over the city.

"Wishing you were back with your command?" he asked.
« Last Edit: April 04, 2013, 03:31:49 AM by Concerned Ninja Citizen »

Offline DragoonWraith

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #3 on: April 04, 2013, 01:15:05 AM »
A quick look around at the guests picks one out as amiss: an outsider, no member of the court at all, garbed in fur, feather, and bone, displaying little modesty but many tattoos, and wearing the skull of some great predator as if it were a helm over her bright-red mane of red hair.

Her elven form is misleading, but only those deeply versed in the lore of nature, or one with an encyclopedic knowledge of the various elven subraces, would know that. Anyone, however, can tell she is not your typical elf: her strangely-marbleized skin, and the way her finger and toe nails are thicker and sharper than is otherwise expected of a humanoids, make this abundantly clear.

Notably, in this company, she was not a long-time member of the court, having only just recently arrived in Borean, or Amantanea at all. She stands apart from them, basically eyeing everyone warily.

If you have means of seeing incorporeal/invisible things, you can also see a spirit floating about her, talking to her in a hushed whisper. Those who cannot see it also cannot hear it. Those who can, if they listen very closely and are quite fluent in Dwarven, Elven, and Sylvan, might be able to parse what is being said. The woman is not apparently responding in any visible or audible way.

"When he comes, be ready. They will expect things of you; go along with them. You are the emissary; you cannot indulge the solitude we often do."
"..."
"There is power here, and destiny, and spirits. You must feel them."
"..."
"Remember yourself."

And then the worldhewn woman has a brief, angry outburst. Those who speak Dwarven get something about senility, those who know Elven hear a term most often used derogatorily to show disownership of an ancestor who did foul things, while those that know Sylvan might recognize the entire statement has the melody associated, in that language, with a buzzing, annoying insect.

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Offline MetroMagic

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #4 on: April 04, 2013, 05:25:49 AM »
EDITED (CAREFULLY!!): as per OOC

An Elven woman floats silently into the solarium, drifting just above the floor. Her entrance is an impact in itself, pulling on many people’s attention. An aura seems to surround her, drawing some nearer: too scholarly to be dangerous, too beautiful to be left alone, too warm to be neglected, perhaps not exactly Elven, but all the more vulnerable and in need of help for her slightly odd appearance. Her presence presses for attention, and though there are some who ignore her, there may be others who give in to the feeling and start to approach, and some who force their eyes elsewhere… for some in the room it seems to take a subtle effort… as if her sheer force of personality keeps pulling to come help her, go with her, travel alongside her, gently but insistently. She smiles around the room at everyone, radiantly, seemingly oblivious to the slight stir she has caused simply by entering the room.

She passes through the group and…  oh! No perfume; surprisingly, no scent of any kind when she passed…  and pauses to sun herself in a beam of sunlight. The room grows noticeably brighter around her, her unruly long golden hair shimmering; she is breathtaking. Dressed in deep cerulean blues that match her eyes, and pale browns that match the shades in the soft planes of her face, she is elegantly striking in appearance.  Tiny dots of ruby catch the light, flecks of gemstone on her gently pointed ears and woven into strands of her hair. She wears no makeup; her skin has a natural healthy freshness, the muted, dappled gray-browns of sycamore bark. Her eyes… perhaps a trick of the light, the blue of her eyes is so intense they seem to glow cerulean blue themselves, matching perfectly the bright cerulean headband that is barely keeping her hair in check.

Some jewelry, linked amulets and charms around her neck and wrists. Long flowing sleeves covering her arms, but no weapons, not even a day pack. She seems completely unprepared for an adventure. Such a strong urging to take care of her, it flows from her and clings like a fine, glazed sauce for the senses.

There has not been a sound as she floated across the solarium with her feet inches above the floor, not even the soft sounds of shifting silks as she moved, but finally she breaks the silence and speaks. Her voice is high and pure, the sound of tinkling bells. She nods at one of the company in recognition, and addresses everyone else.

You may call me CaraVela. It seems to suit. I serve at the Observatory, I make maps of the night skies there, and maps for travel all over. Perhaps you’ve seen one of them.

My Lord, it’s always good to see a familiar face.

For the rest of us, we begin as strangers but only for the first moment; soon we can be friends in our cause, whatever it may be that we can do to serve and give help to each other. It has been such a sudden change these past few months… I sense that some of you know yourselves just what I mean.


She says her piece and falls silent again, open but quietly reserved. At last there is a chance to pull back slightly from the impact of her presence and beauty, and take stock of her appearance. A beautiful lady, with some Elven blood... well, perhaps not exactly Elven, subtly wrong somehow, disproportioned in the shoulders and seat as she went past, but… she looks innocent enough. In human-equivalent age, she looks young, early to mid 20s. About 5’7”, 105lb. Thin, androgynous, very athletic build, like a dancer not a wrestler.

The name is familiar… CaraVela. An odd name, obviously beautiful enough to be a Cara, but Vela, the winged constellation… and caravela, the fast clipper ship for fighters and merchants. A memorable name; which meaning is the true one? CaraVela...

Yes, of course, that’s who she is, just as she said. Familiar to adventurers, soldiers, sailors, merchants; all rely on her. So this is CaraVela, but… she is a legend, or the name of a cartography company, or perhaps it is a name handed down, because that name has appeared on the best maps for many centuries, longer than almost anyone remembers. The best cartographer in the world today; perhaps the best ever. It just doesn’t seem possible that so young looking an Elf could be the original CaraVela, if even there ever was one.

Well, she may not look like much of an adventurer, but now truly there is a reason for everyone to take care of her, not to lose the world’s greatest mapmaker… At least the party may not get lost, wherever it is sent. She might have some small use in her innocence.
« Last Edit: April 24, 2013, 08:07:29 PM by MetroMagic »

Offline Harald

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #5 on: April 04, 2013, 08:34:07 AM »
Hieronymus glanced at the cloaked white man, and nodded.
"A little bit, I guess. Or that I am still on the roads in arms instead of harvesting crops in a nice little farm in the south. The joy of growing older, young sir.
So many things have changed in the last few months..."

He stopped talking as the strange elvish woman entered, floating, as if the gentle wind coming from the east was bearing her above the ground.
Even thought sterness and dourness almost seemed to be carved in his flesh, a smile appeared  under his stony expression, there were some humour hidding there.
"I know indeed that name, my lady. Very fine maps. The only flaw I have ever found them were the leftenants attached to them and unable to use them to path a way, nevermind using a compass to find their own ass."
He coughed a bit, keeping himself in the warm light of the sun. Let's hope they won't be sent somewhere under heavy rains. He saluted the group, with his right fist over his chest.
"Centurion Hieronymus Titus Pastor.  XXIVth  Legio ," Regnus Lacrymae" , Third Century, First Cohort, distached from duty."
"-Lady-Captain, we detect 20 hostile vessels against us,  and Erasmus Haarlock's Spear of Destiny ! What are your orders ?
-RAMMING SPEED !

final result : 6 slaughts vessels, 4 imperial frigates, 2 imperial cruisers destroyed. Haarlock sent into the warp. 0 losses. Flawless Victory.

Offline Concerned Ninja Citizen

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #6 on: April 04, 2013, 01:43:52 PM »
"And I am Merrion Digwell, VIIth Legion, at large. A pleasure to meet you CaraVela, Centurion Pastor."

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Offline Flay Crimsonwind

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #7 on: April 05, 2013, 12:45:10 AM »
He had said nothing when the men had poured forth from the palace like ants around their brilliant King. He bowed, and silently accepted His Grace's invitation, barely containing the trembling excitement at the chance to be given even a simple task from the Great King. He took the simple cup offered him as a cherished gift, drank as though it bestowed upon him even a fragment of that greatness.

And now he sat, uncertain in why he had been chosen. He was not particularly great, among the many talented and great warriors he had seen here over his short stay. His potential greatness would not be reached, possibly ever, certainly not for a number of decades. But there must have been something the good King saw in him, and that was what concerned him. Had he not the sight to properly mind his own abilities? Did the King see potential he had not the mind to unlock? So many things to concern his mind with.

And now he felt uncomfortable, in his silence. If he was still enough, with his silver scales and platinum shell, he thought he might be mistaken for a well-made metal statue, and he was fine with that. Many were cautious of one who had taken the Rite of Perfection, as he had (though for all the good it had done for his "perfection"), and he found himself increasingly uncomfortable around the average human and humanoid. These were strange people, that much was certain - were they connected to him, in the King's desire, and if so, why would this motley bunch be of use to his task? - but there was no indicator as to their purpose. Perhaps the King had heard his desire to be a knight; these folk looked as though they were warriors as well, so perhaps they were all to be tested for their place in the lord's employ. Perhaps these would be his peers, compatriots in years to come. He almost took comfort in that, but not quite enough to say anything. Or move excessively.

So for now there was an awkwardly still figure, large and reptilian, sitting by itself in a corner. A large axe was strapped to it's back, and from a shoulder-mounted strap behind him hung a fine shield. The weapon and shield had a different sort of exotic motif to their artistry and symbols than did the fine and brilliant armor he wore. The armor was sleek and smooth, of what craft it would be difficult to determine, and at a glance it could be mistaken for some extension of his own body. The plates folded smoothly over one another, and yet seemed to move as though it was his own skin. The shield and axe were both very angular and definite, however, and emblazoned with lightly shining symbols of similar sharp angles. The whole creature was beautiful, and yet strong, and if the creature stood it would not be so very small a figure both in height and build. Three large scrolls seemed to be strapped to it's lower back, though from where the straps originated inside that perfect armor was uncertain.

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« Last Edit: April 05, 2013, 12:47:14 AM by Flay Crimsonwind »
I'm here and ready to keep confusing the hell out of everyone I meet.

Offline MetroMagic

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #8 on: April 07, 2013, 02:47:59 AM »
CaraVela turns toward the Centurion and Merrion when they say her name. She looks over at them, her eyes downcast slightly, a shy gaze through her long golden lashes not quite meeting theirs at first, then slowly making full contact. Then she gives them both a dazzling smile.

Centurion! I am honored. And Merrion… Legionnaire? Digwell.

So many military here, it seems, or armored men-at-arms.
Her glance around the room takes in the armored lizard; seeing him awkward in the corner, she gives him an encouraging nod as she joins the two military men at the solarium window and looks out at the sweep of landscape from the high dome to the distant horizon.

The best beginning view of geography is from above; I’ve heard it said to be the strategic view, in the military. But the tactical view is from the ground, where the details can be seen; the same for geography. It’s fascinating to me how a world tells all stories, a complete education if you give the lands and seas and skies the chance to do so.

Then CaraVela notices the other Elven-looking, red haired woman concentrating on her warily as if reading her in some way, and blushes. She calls across to the woman quietly, I’m sorry, were you studying me for what you could learn? Pardon me if I’m mistaken, but I have some small skill with Magic, and so it seemed to me that you might be. A wise idea, I wish I’d thought of it myself… but sometimes I don’t register at all with those Spells, a precaution I seem to have learned recently, and can’t easily release, but then your caution might lead to suspicion, a bad beginning. So if I can answer some of your questions and allay your suspicions, I… I’d like to do that. If you’ll trust my answers.

CaraVela half-turns toward the woman, making a placating gesture with her hands, palms outstretched in invitation.
« Last Edit: April 24, 2013, 08:10:20 PM by MetroMagic »

Offline Concerned Ninja Citizen

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #9 on: April 07, 2013, 02:56:56 AM »
"Agente, if you want to be formal. Please, though, call me Merrion."

Offline MetroMagic

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #10 on: April 07, 2013, 03:53:00 AM »
CaraVela turns toward the Centurion and Merrion when they say her name. She looks over at them, her eyes downcast slightly, a shy gaze through her long golden lashes not quite meeting theirs at first, then slowly making full contact. Then she gives them both a dazzling smile.

Centurion! I am honored. And Merrion… Legionnaire? Digwell.

So many military here, it seems, or armored men-at-arms.
Her glance around the room takes in the armored lizard; seeing him awkward in the corner, she gives him an encouraging nod as she joins the two military men at the solarium window and looks out at the sweep of landscape from the high dome to the distant horizon.

The best beginning view of geography is from above; I’ve heard it said to be the strategic view, in the military. But the tactical view is from the ground, where the details can be seen; the same for geography. It’s fascinating to me how a world tells all stories, a complete education if you give the lands and seas and skies the chance to do so.

Then CaraVela notices the other Elven-looking, red haired woman concentrating on her warily as if reading her in some way, and blushes. She calls across to the woman quietly, I’m sorry, were you studying me for what you could learn? Pardon me if I’m mistaken, but I have some small skill with Magic, and so it seemed to me that you might be. A wise idea, I wish I’d thought of it myself… but sometimes I don’t register at all with those Spells, a precaution I seem to have learned recently, and can’t easily release, but then your caution might lead to suspicion, a bad beginning. So if I can answer some of your questions and allay your suspicions, I… I’d like to do that. If you’ll trust my answers.

CaraVela half-turns toward the woman, making a placating gesture with her hands, palms outstretched in invitation.
« Last Edit: April 24, 2013, 08:11:15 PM by MetroMagic »

Offline DragoonWraith

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #11 on: April 07, 2013, 10:34:18 PM »
Liltar smiles – or, quite possibly, sneers – at CaraVela. (Elven) "And what reason could I possibly have for being suspicious of a weak child?"

"Child! You yourself remember what, a decade? Two, maybe? Dimly remembered days hunting like a dog? You do not get to claim our age as your own."
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Offline MetroMagic

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #12 on: April 08, 2013, 11:44:38 PM »
CaraVela blinks in surprise at Liltar’s reply, and tone, and her blush fades quickly. Then she nods in agreement, and smiles, answering Liltar in Common tongue rather than Elven which is often an ordinary courtesy to the others in the room, even though Liltar spoke to her in Elven. Though she doesn’t know how Liltar will react to that, she does know Liltar can understand Common, since Liltar understood what CaraVela just offered.

Well enough, I suppose we can leave it like that. Weak child, no need for suspicion.

It doesn’t sound like you would want to be friends, either... I’m not that good at reading people, but you have made it easy.

Well, you and I will have to make do somehow, regardless. We all are expected to work together, or so I anticipate, else we wouldn’t all be in this room together. That is why I’m speaking in the Common tongue rather than Elven, out of courtesy to the others here, since you seem to understand it; I can only hope you won’t be offended. So I’ll contribute what little this ‘weak child’ can, for my part, whether we are friends or not, and not bother you otherwise.

I would like new friends, and certainly don’t need to make new enemies, but I’ll welcome new allies too. I need allies more than I need respect; it’s simply… practical.


There isn’t even a hint of chill or hard edge to CaraVela’s voice; she seems completely at ease with the insult; but her eyes show a flash of timeless pain and ancient injury for a moment, before passing into unreadability.

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« Last Edit: April 24, 2013, 08:13:51 PM by MetroMagic »

Offline Flay Crimsonwind

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #13 on: April 09, 2013, 02:29:55 AM »
A curious expression crossed the dragon-man's face, as the situation turned decidedly hostile. He didn't know the words, so flowing and smooth, that came from the amused one's mouth, but he thought it sounded like a child's bastardized hissing attempt at the dragon's tongue. It was odd, but in a way he liked it. The response led him to believe it was not said with the best of intentions; diminutive tones, perhaps? He recalled being called a weak child, by his father and his brother. His sister had been less subjugating but no less sharp with her words when he failed to perform. He missed her.

But this situation needed to be helped. He stood slowly, not sure of what he could say, or why he was saying it. He was fierce and oddly beautiful to look at, and at his full height and extension he was even more so. His voice, as it was, did not reflect his quieter nature; it rumbled like thunder, and while he spoke initially in the dragon tongue, a bit of a test to see what other treats these strange ones might have, you could almost feel the heat roll off his breath.

Simply, and firmly, as a father to his sirelings, in draconic; "Enough."

After he had their attention, he started in a more common tongue. Which he didn't particularly like; it had neither the grace of dragons nor the power of the dwarves, but it had a mutable quality and an adaptability that made it decent for talks with the other races. "The wrath of the King would be great if he knew any one of us questioned his trust in the others in this room. We should and shall maintain a professional courtesy for one another, as soldiers would. After all, who knows what we might individually be capable of? The King did say we each carried 'potential for greatness, and the memory of greatness realized.' I do not know what he meant about any of you, but I know that if you each hold what I hold, this memory, then it is for the best I guard my pride against insult of any one of you, who are no doubt my equal." He gave a polite nod of the head to each of the two offended parties before continuing. "So, at the very least, let us not bicker, and bask in our current success that we have a task to be asked of us by the great King."
I'm here and ready to keep confusing the hell out of everyone I meet.

Offline linklord231

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #14 on: April 09, 2013, 03:34:22 AM »
A powerfully built, handsome man reclines on a pile of cushions in the sun.  Head back, blue eyes closed contentedly, he seems completely unphased by the God-King's mysterious requests. 
He appears to be an incredibly tall and strong man, built more like a Goliath than a human.  A chainmail shirt covers his broad torso, leaving his well-muscled arms bare.  His forearms are protected by a set of wickedly spiked bracers, but otherwise he carries no weapon.  A pendant bearing the holy symbol of the God-King hangs from his neck, and is emblazoned in yellow on his white surcoat.  The remnants of the "refreshments" the servants brought earlier rest in a pile beside him, picked clean.  Apart from his size, the only thing that marks him as clearly non human is the pair of forward curving horns, similar to a bull's, protruding out from the tangle of long golden hair that cascades down the cushions behind him. 
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Until now, he was content to just relax in the mottled light filtering through the Solarium's stained glass windows, but he casually opens one eye and looks askance at the disturbance caused by the two ladies.  Ponderously, he rises to his feet and casts a disarming smile (so full of teeth!  How is that even possible?) on the agitated women.
My shiny friend is correct, there is no need for rudeness here, he says while smiling even wider, I'm confident that His Grace has summoned us here to fight the Evil without, not the Good within.
I'm not arguing, I'm explaining why I'm right.

Offline MetroMagic

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #15 on: April 09, 2013, 04:08:19 AM »
CaraVela turns to the dragon-man and gives him a graceful curtsy, bobbing her head in respect, and then does the same to the tall man who just stood. She turns back to the dragon-man, and says to him,

You give us a gift of great respect, to consider us all your equal. I thank you for this gift, as well as for your support in reminding us of our host the King and his faith in us.

Have you a name that our tongues could pronounce, and would you like to share it with us? Hearing you speak the language, I sense my mother must have known it with some fluency... because my own knowledge of the language prior to the Change was somewhat limited.

Do you truly have complete memories of a past, of another? I… have no specific memories, really, only a piecing together, like a puzzle, of what I have discovered about myself that is emerging, like just now when you spoke one word and I knew the tongue, and I suspect the greatest part still lies hidden. I sense it is my mother, but... it is so strange… I didn’t know I had one.


CaraVela trails off, seeming wistful. She gazes at the dragon-man with both sadness and anticipation to hear his story if he’ll share it, clearly expecting it to be quite different from her own.
« Last Edit: April 24, 2013, 08:16:27 PM by MetroMagic »

Offline Flay Crimsonwind

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #16 on: April 09, 2013, 03:24:46 PM »
'Knew the tongue?' How interesting! These people truly were not so common! His eyes widened as if with interest, clearly surprised and excited, though he tried to retain it in his face. Not that anyone was particularly skilled at reading his scaled facial features...

"I spoke the old tongue of the Wyrm, the dragon language! How interesting you should recognize it, as so few truly do today, outside of their precious little formulas for their arcane craft. I am a Magus, by name of Sulta Jikmda," The title was clear, the name sounded as though he were speaking two languages at once, though those knowledgeable in the tongue might have understood. "I was once nicknamed Sul Baagh," this time a harsh sound, as the dwarves were known to sound, "so the people I was with at the time could more easily call for me. Sul is fine." He had to stop blithering, he thought, stop himself from sounding like a giggling child making friends.

Then, serious. "Oh, and yes... I have the memory of an... ancestor, or spirit. It gives me power. Directs me. I did not know others were so gifted, until I heard it from the King."
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Offline DragoonWraith

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #17 on: April 09, 2013, 03:32:46 PM »
So the king had been successful with his call. And his timing was apparently excellent, to call all of these spirits together at once, spirits reborn that would need years – differing numbers of years! – to grow before being useful to him. And he's even gotten her, much to her chagrin. "Yes, yes, the king made his call. How many of you even recognized it at the time? Mortal spirits, awoken from their slumber, stumbling where they do not belong, mewling babes given ancient knowledge and the time to grow into it, and so on and so on. Your frames tremble with it and your minds wonder, no doubt. Well, great this king is, to have accomplished it. Proof, I guess, that this journey was not wasted. But have no doubt: deep and far went his call, and it remains to be seen whether or not he intended to wake all that he stirred."

"So when did you come to the absurd conclusion that you are a poet?

Liltar gives a wicked grin, "I certainly intend to be more than he bargained for.
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Offline Concerned Ninja Citizen

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #18 on: April 09, 2013, 05:15:56 PM »
Merrion had remained silent through the confrontation. He was used to working alone and team dynamics were not his forte. If the God King had called them all here, though, their task must be too great for any solo agent. In that case, they would have to learn to get along with each other and personality clashes be damned.

The discussion of memories and ancient spirits confused him a little. He had gained powers and capabilities he had not previously possessed in the last year or so but memories... the sense of another being inside him, that he could not recall. And it was hardly the first time he had begun exhibiting strange powers and abilities. His underground journey and later the fight with that shadow demon had each changed him. He had thought these new changes were simply a continuation of that, but perhaps he was mistaken. It would bear further examination but now was not the time.

Now was the time to speak up.

"If the King has given us power, I trust that we are worthy to wield it. Or, at any rate, we shall have to become worthy fast. I agree with the Magus and the horned gentleman. We are clearly intended to be a unit, why else call us here in a group? As a unit we will doubtless have a task to perform and all our skills, working in concert, will be necessary for its completion. We cannot afford internal strife. We don't have to like each other but we do have to work together."

He paused a moment and turned to the Elven woman with the bone mask, "We should also be forthright with each other. Are you aware that there is an incorporeal being whispering in your ear?"
« Last Edit: April 09, 2013, 05:27:56 PM by Concerned Ninja Citizen »

Offline DragoonWraith

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Re: Chapter 1: Expedition
« Reply #19 on: April 09, 2013, 07:46:45 PM »
Liltar finally gives what might actually be a genuine smile, though like most of her mannerisms it has more than a little wicked mischievousness about it. "Aha, someone with eyes!" She's clearly pleased by this. "Yes, she is..." She knits her brows. "Yára, if any of you has a tongue." Those who know Sylvan recognize the term as meaning something like "one who came before" or "one from earlier times." Yes, it's more of a title than a name, but then the fact that she remembers anything at all of her personal life is impressive; one mustn't judge her too much for having lost her name.

Yára herself, however, is suddenly much more agitated, knowing she can be seen. She floats so that her incorporeal face is melded with Liltar's, making her seem like a bizarrely animated and translucent mask.
« Last Edit: April 09, 2013, 07:48:43 PM by DragoonWraith »
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