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Zarkenis Ultima
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Founded: Feb 22, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Sun Mar 30, 2014 8:53 pm

Tristan looked around curiously. At the buildings, at the people... But, most importantly, at the flags he had seen on the towers and walls surrounding the city. He had stared at them rather intently as they walked towards and then through the gates, and he stared at them a bit more even after they had finally crossed.

"I've seen this place before..." The white-haired Elemental muttered to himself as he continued looking around. As he watched, it became more and more evident to him that, yes, he had seen that place before. He hadn't been sure back when he heard the name, and he hadn't been sure when he saw the flags, either, but now that he was inside, it all became clear.

"Yes... This is the place the Gallians who went to the north brought me to on their ships after they found me." He stated, briefly wondering if any of those people were still around, or if they'd remember him. It would certainly be nice. He could thank them for their help. He doubted he would've been able to get to Gallia without them, and while he often missed the white island to the north, with its vast snow-ridden plains and its scarce but amusing wildlife, he found that this continent he was now in was an interesting place as well. He had found a lot of nice people, too, unlike over there, but he preferred not to think about that.

"So, what are we gonig to do here?" The youth asked, seemingly in a better mood after realizing this was one of the few places in this continent he had been to before. He was, quite obviously, oblivious to the presence of more soldiers than usual and whatever that implied. "Weren't we looking for your friend, Aldry?" He asked. If they had picked up a different objective along the way, he was ignorant to it, but he doubted it. "Does the figurine I gave you tingle or something? We might be close."
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Constaniana
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Postby Constaniana » Mon Mar 31, 2014 7:07 pm

Aldraniri eagerly took out the crescent moon sculpture from his pack, hoping what Tristan said would be true. However, the only sensation he seemed to be receiving from the figurine at the moment was a chill in his hand. He kept looking at the ice moon, thinking back to the last Market Day he had spent with Heilaga before she was kidnapped. By the Host, had it only been less than two weeks? Had he only endured separation from his best friend and the woman he loved for not even a fortnight?

"Yes, I hoping to keep doing that...though I still don't have a clue where to look now..." the redhead solemnly replied, gently stowing the exquisite figurine away for the time being.

"Well, we could give discreetly asking around about Watchtower a try. If they had a presence in Haventown, however nominal, I'm sure they're up to something here in prominent port city," Kroisoto remarked, barely making himself heard above the noise of the people around them, "That, and we can try finding out more news about what else has been happening lately. We haven't been in many settlements at all since we left Balclyde, let alone ones that would swiftly receive news of the happenings of other parts of the country and nations abroad."
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Zarkenis Ultima
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Founded: Feb 22, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Tue Apr 01, 2014 5:57 pm

Tristan was understandably disappointed when his figurine once again proved to be of little use in their quest, but he didn't say anything. Surely, it would be useful at some point, so he simply waited for that moment. That said, he thought he could certainly make himself useful now, and thus, listening to Kroisoto suggest that they ask around about Watchtower, Tristan immediately got to the task.

He didn't know what 'discreetly' was, though.

"Excuse me, do you know about any odd people in gray robes that say things about 'our Elemental opperssors' and stuff like that?" He asked the first passerby he came across.
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Constaniana
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Constaniana » Wed Apr 02, 2014 8:20 pm

"Grey robes? Elemental oppressors? Ya on something unright, I reckon," the passer-by said, setting down his cart full of what was probably fish, judging by the smell and the fact that they were in Erilhall, "They sound like a troublesome sort. I remember my mamy would always say 'John, don't ya get into trouble now with the wrong sorts. Don't try nothing unconventional or risky like; not mercenary work or treasure hunting or banking and such' when she wes tuckin' me in bed, and I've followed that advice my whole life. Didn't try being an alchemist or something tricky like that, didn't join the Merchant Navy; didn't follow Delphina when she wes craftin' up with that scheme to learn shipbuilding and factory engineering, pop an' trotter over to Ilfalia and get rich, sticking with a simple job of carting fish around and selling it in villages."

John's mother had also cautioned him against rambling on for too long, but he seemed less diligent in following that counsel. He was a lean young man of 19 years and average height, with light brown hair, sideburns of a matching colour, green eyes, and a birthmark on his right palm currently covered by the leather gloves he was wearing.

"Not like my brother Walter. Always lugging his dirty great cameragraph around, taking pictures and 'journalistic inquiry' like. I don't get what the tobber sees in it. That photography nonsense'll never catch on, I tell ya," the fishmonger proclaimed with the utmost confidence.

"So...you don't know anything about Watchtower?" Aldraniri enquired after a few moments of lull in the conversation.

"Er...wait, Watchtower?" John wiped his gloves on his overalls and scratched the back of his head, thinking for a moment, "Actually, that name does sound familiar...I think Walter mentioned it at dinner a night or two ago. Something about them muckin' round in Haventown. Not that I can remember too clearly...he always talks of plenty of strange happenings. Mansions being burnt in Aurennia, the Federal Navy buildin' some breed of hyper-ironclad or whatever he called it, Sahranjja looking for something powerful in that dirty great desert of theirs...all rubbish, really. Oh, there's an even better one, where he thinks the College of Bracksbure hes some sort of drugs trade going on in and around about it!" The Erilhallman gave a hearty laugh before shaking his head. "Well, that's enough chatting with strangers about strange things. This fish might spoil, and I'll be late for tea. Good day to you funny sort." And with that, he picked up his fish cart again and began pushing it towards the city gates as he originally had been before Tristan stopped him.

"I had forgotten how irritating Erilhallian accents could be to listen to," Kroisoto grumbled, rubbing his temples with one of his hands, "But I suppose we got something useful out of that conversation, aside from trivia about how provincial a random fishmonger is. Someone in this city knows about them. Though that's rather odd what he said about being sceptical of what I'm assuming Walter was saying about my family's country estate in particular being attacked. It couldn't be that word of that hasn't spread here yet, could it? I would understand a Yuelkelu or Sahranjjite being ignorant of it, but I would have assumed people here would have found out about it through telegraph and word of mouth by now..." The nobleman grimaced, deep in thought.

"Well, we can try finding this Walter chap. Shouldn't be too hard to spot something like a camera ," Aldraniri said optimistically, before Lisoette spoke.

"What's a camera?" the Daemonness asked, slightly cocking her head to the side.

"Well, it's a box...thingmy on a stand, and you push some buttons or something, it makes a flash, and then it makes a picture of what you were aiming it at..." Aldraniri didn't seem to confident in his explanation, and began rooting around in his pack. "I don't really know how to explain the full technicalities of how it operates, but I've seen them at work once in a while. I've got an picture here, for example."

In Aldraniri's hand was a very worn photograph. It had a few stains, and was ripped in the middle, but the faded picture showed a man who at first glance seemed to be a slightly older Aldraniri. His hair was a bit longer, his shoulders broader, his scarf was worn a little differently, and he had the beginnings of a beard growing in, but aside from those differences the man holding an infant in his arms bore a striking resemblance to Aldry. Lisoette cooed with interest, delicately taking it from his hands to look at it more closely.

"What's the black bit here?" She asked, pointing near the torn edge.

"Oh, that? I always thought it was my mum's hair billowing a bit, since it would make sense for her to get a portrait with me as a baby. Or maybe it's my Gran, or nanny? Who knows?" Aldraniri responded, shrugging as he went to put the photograoh back into his pack.
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I have the oddest of feelings this is my fault somehow.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I just realised how bizarre Const's existence is.
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Zarkenis Ultima
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Founded: Feb 22, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Thu Apr 03, 2014 8:50 pm

"Oh, I've seen some of those before." Tristan said after Aldraniri had put away the photography, having caught a glance of it as Lisoette observed it and recognizing it as one of those 'imprisoned moments' he had seen some other people show. He knew them as imprisoned moments because as far as he was concerned photographies were some sort of magical paradox-fueled artifact that took a moment from space and time and froze it forever within itself. That some sort of man-made machine was able to produce them like it was nothing was fascinating, to say the least, but the white-haired foreigner knew that there were more important things to worry about, so he stopped himself from going on to unleash a barrage of questions. Aldraniri quite obviously was not too sure of how they worked, anyway.

He did, however, ask one, just to satisfy his curiosity momentarily.

"Why are they so important to people though?"
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Ameriganastan
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Postby Ameriganastan » Thu Apr 03, 2014 9:10 pm

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:"Oh, I've seen some of those before." Tristan said after Aldraniri had put away the photography, having caught a glance of it as Lisoette observed it and recognizing it as one of those 'imprisoned moments' he had seen some other people show. He knew them as imprisoned moments because as far as he was concerned photographies were some sort of magical paradox-fueled artifact that took a moment from space and time and froze it forever within itself. That some sort of man-made machine was able to produce them like it was nothing was fascinating, to say the least, but the white-haired foreigner knew that there were more important things to worry about, so he stopped himself from going on to unleash a barrage of questions. Aldraniri quite obviously was not too sure of how they worked, anyway.

He did, however, ask one, just to satisfy his curiosity momentarily.

"Why are they so important to people though?"

"Cause people die, kid."

Eric pulled an old photo from his pack, showing a much younger Eric and a few fellow soldiers.

"Benny, Shaun, Malcolm, Miles and Fat Benny. Some of my best buds. All of them are gone now. Benny and Miles died in battle. Fat Benny had a heart attack. Shaun was stabbed in an alley. And Malcolm died in prison. My point being, photos preserve old memories so you can look back on them fondly and remember all the fun times...in fact, let's take one now!"

Eric pointed to a photography shop down the road.

"Let's preserve a memory."
Last edited by Ameriganastan on Fri Apr 04, 2014 9:34 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Kassaran
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Democratic Socialists

Fiddler on the Rooftops

Postby Kassaran » Fri Apr 04, 2014 1:24 am

It had all been so surprisingly familiar to Erosen as he approached the human settlement, his nose quivering as he was picking up on the scent of perhaps two or three dozen articles of food being displayed in the main market. While all so faint on the wind, his heightened senses and primal instincts were now beginning to kicking back in, seeing as how it had been a decent hour since his last meal with the strange and rather intriguing female. His mouth beginning to salivate, he looked towards the group where the two or so alphas had now struck up a conversation with someone else and it all looked so incredibly peaceful. Talking that is, he never really got to do it considering that he was truly only fluent in animal calls for hunting and warding away danger, his vocal chords being oh so highly developed in spite of their rough usage that he could easily mimic any bird of the air, or beast of the wood. However, now, above everything that now flooded into his sensory organs, sight flooded by new structures, aromas of the promise of fresh food, his mouth tasting the small miniscule particulates carried to him on the wind, and his skin being cooled by the breeze of the midday sun.

Now something new happened hear, and not knowing what it was, he began to feel elated, happy, and looking around, he quickly moved into the settlement, hunched over low and running at full tilt, blasting past the occasional passerby in the street, winding down the narrow roads with blinding speed until he came to a rest, panting heavily, in front of a small scaffold. Upon this scaffold was a man, and in the man's hands, a small wooden device, like an axe or sword, or club, but instead of the steel or iron tool head, there lay a large opening in a rounded box, and over the container's hole, were strung multiple strings of varying thickness from what Erosen could perceive, and moving closer, he approached the stage. His ears now rang in ecstasy at the sound, and wishing to keep it for himself, he bolted onto the stage and while the musician was still reacting, he grabbed the instrument out of his hands and tore off down the road, the musician chasing after.

Keeping his pace, he crossed the main street again, at the base of which he could see the group now finishing their conversation with the man holding the fish, and now in the young fire-man's hands was a black and white piece of bark that was oddly thin and colored. Pushing this past his attention now, seeing as how his eyesight shouldn't be strained while running at a full sprint, and that the view was fleeting at best, he finished crossing the open intersection, and coming to a dead end, brought up vines from a nearby house and spread them across the wall. Reaching into the tangled mass with his free hand, the vines wrapped around his wrist and gave him a good launch vertically, releasing him as he began to reach the apex of his assisted leap into the sky and letting him land almost with no speed going downwards on top of the roof. Leaving the vines to flourish in their new home, he proceeded over the rooftops, keeping his balance expertly and cradling the small wooden device with both hands like a young bear cub.

It was tiring, the run, but exhilarating, and as he heard the musician cross by, he hazarded a peek over the edge of the rooftop to see the man speaking to a strangely clothed individual carrying what appeared to be a club. He shrunk back up out of sight, and leaning back on the angled roof, he overlooked the peaks of the houses, letting his gaze wander across the many sharp inclines and declines of the roofs and the spires that were the chimneys above them. Across the distance, he could see a taller roof then all the others with a strange design on the top for a chimney, as though it were containing something. Getting up, and checking the street below for his pursuers, and finding none, he leaped out over the void between houses, and crashed into the top of one, shattering a few of the shingles, but maintaining his footing and allowing him to run quickly up the side and to the peak where he stepped over and leaped again, only this time prepared for the impact and landing much more softly.

Rooftop to rooftop he wound his way through the city attracting the attention of hopefully none below though he did have some close calls, and reaching the location of the odd chimney, he was struck with a problem. The roof upon which he was sat below in elevation to the big roof of the strange-chimneyed house. Looking into the opening in the chimney though, he saw a large object which appeared to be made of solidified urine, and sitting down on the roof top, he began to ponder why it was there and what purpose it could possible serve. Almost as if knowing his question, fate would have it that the large metallic object began to swing back and forth, and from it, emanated a loud tolling noise which went on for a few repetitions, and then stopped. He continued to watch it and from time to time it would toll again and again. Stashing his wooden box inside a small hole in the side of a chimney, he made the jump across the opening, and clambering up the footholds and ledges afforded to him, he soon wove his way up and onto the top of the large building. Proceeding up the chimney in a similar fashion, he found himself at the open room, and it was revealed to him that perhaps this wasn't a chimney at all. Looking down, he could see ropes coming from the bottom of the large object hanging in the center to be tied to several oddly shaped protrusions from the walls of the building, and noting that these probably led to something within the large hanging metal flower as he was beginning to associate it as appearing like, he grabbed the edge of the metal rim and looked underneath, the sharp retort of a small metal ball inside the hollowed out area on the side of the large flower rang sharply through Erosen's ears and he released the bell which tolled a few more times and then stopped.

However, this was not the end of his problem as a group of people below had flocked to the small plaza before the edifice and were now pointing up at the spire Erosen was in and worst of all, they were pointing at him! Clambering out of the tower as quickly as he could, he made the leap back to his rooftop and retrieved his prize from his earlier exploit and with it, he took off across the town again, except this time, he soon found a large estate on the edge, horses stood tethered outside and from what he could tell, the windows to the attic were gone. Diving through the open portal, he found himself inside a temporary shelter inside this respite of barren upper chamber. Curling up in a corner of the room with his wooden instrument, he soon began to drift asleep, not even food was more tempting to his exhausted body, and allowing himself to recuperate, he soon found himself in a dark abyss, asleep in the attic of an inn dreaming of speaking to others simply to speak, remembering the words the young red-head has said earlier, but not putting sense to them even within the deepest confines of his mind where his Humanity still resided.
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Zarkenis Ultima wrote:Tristan noticed footsteps behind him and looked there, only to see Eric approaching and then pointing his sword at the girl. He just blinked a few times at this before speaking.

"Put that down, Mr. Eric." He said. "She's obviously not a chicken."
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Zarkenis Ultima
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Founded: Feb 22, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Fri Apr 04, 2014 10:41 pm

Ameriganastan wrote:"Cause people die, kid."

Eric pulled an old photo from his pack, showing a much younger Eric and a few fellow soldiers.

"Benny, Shaun, Malcolm, Miles and Fat Benny. Some of my best buds. All of them are gone now. Benny and Miles died in battle. Fat Benny had a heart attack. Shaun was stabbed in an alley. And Malcolm died in prison. My point being, photos preserve old memories so you can look back on them fondly and remember all the fun times...in fact, let's take one now!"

Eric pointed to a photography shop down the road.

"Let's preserve a memory."


Tristan, truth be told, still did not get it. If photos preserved old memories, then did the people in them continue living, imprisoned as they were in those captured moments? If so, was that really better than just moving on? Did people from the south have some sort of memory problem and need images to remember moments that were supposedly so important?

Regardless, he wasn't going to argue. The Halveforian was unpredictable. But he did object to the idea of taking a photography. He didn't want his soul to be encased in some silly piece of paper when he died, even if that was probably and hopefully not going to happen for a long while.

"Um, I'd rather not..." The Ice Elemental said. "Besides, don't we have other stuff to do? Like look for that Walter person?"
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Ameriganastan
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Postby Ameriganastan » Fri Apr 04, 2014 11:49 pm

"...Walter? Hey, I know a Walter! Met him here actually. Bout 3 years ago if I recall right. Nice fella. Made kazoos for a living. Shame one of them kazoos wound up getting him in trouble with that priest and that stonemason...what was I talking about? Right, Walter. Introduced me to this cute girl before I moved on. She was nice...I wonder what happened to her."

At that moment, a random kid of about three poked Eric in the leg.

"Hey, mister. You know which way the fishmonger is?"

"Oh, sure. He's down that way, and on the left. Tell him Eric says hi."

The kid nodded, and headed in said direction.

"Nice kid. Looked kinda familiar."

Fun fact: Eric had visited Erihall 4 times since his retirement from the army. Make of that what you will.
Last edited by Ameriganastan on Fri Apr 04, 2014 11:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Force of nature.
The Ameri Train.
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Edward Richtofen wrote:Ameri's so tough that he criticized an Insane Asylum and was promptly let out

Ameri does the impossible.
Fire the Ameri.
Sinovet wrote:Ameri's like Honey badger. He don't give a fuck.

Krazakistan wrote: He is a force of negativity for the sake of negativity

Onocarcass wrote:Trying to change Ameri, is like trying to drag a 2 ton block of lead with your d**k.

Immoren wrote:When Ameri says something is shit it's good and when Ameri says some thing is good it's great. *nods*

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Constaniana
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Founded: Mar 10, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Constaniana » Sat Apr 05, 2014 9:29 am

Ameriganastan wrote:
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:"Oh, I've seen some of those before." Tristan said after Aldraniri had put away the photography, having caught a glance of it as Lisoette observed it and recognizing it as one of those 'imprisoned moments' he had seen some other people show. He knew them as imprisoned moments because as far as he was concerned photographies were some sort of magical paradox-fueled artifact that took a moment from space and time and froze it forever within itself. That some sort of man-made machine was able to produce them like it was nothing was fascinating, to say the least, but the white-haired foreigner knew that there were more important things to worry about, so he stopped himself from going on to unleash a barrage of questions. Aldraniri quite obviously was not too sure of how they worked, anyway.

He did, however, ask one, just to satisfy his curiosity momentarily.

"Why are they so important to people though?"

"Cause people die, kid."

Eric pulled an old photo from his pack, showing a much younger Eric and a few fellow soldiers.

"Benny, Shaun, Malcolm, Miles and Fat Benny. Some of my best buds. All of them are gone now. Benny and Miles died in battle. Fat Benny had a heart attack. Miles was stabbed in an alley. And Malcolm died in prison. My point being, photos preserve old memories so you can look back on them fondly and remember all the fun times...in fact, let's take one now!"

Eric pointed to a photography shop down the road.

"Let's preserve a memory."

"Yeah..." Lisoette said in agreement with Eric, "Wait, your name's mister? I thought it was Eric?"

"Erilhall has a photography shop?" Kroisoto said, surprised, "Tristan's right; we have more important things to be doing now anyway, like-"

"Oh, stop being such a ruddy wet blanket!" Aldraniri cried, grinning in agreement with Eric's suggestion, "Come on, it's not going to hurt taking a brief side trip. Besides, if photographers are a rare sight in this city then maybe the shopkeeper would know that Walter chap the talkative fishmonger mentioned? It could be he sells him supplies or lets him develop his photographs there."

"I suppose you have a point..." the Aurennian conceded, "What do you think, Charlie?"
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Agritum wrote:I want to marry you now, my British damsel.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:You know, I didn't expect you to be the most psychopathic person here.

I have the oddest of feelings this is my fault somehow.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I just realised how bizarre Const's existence is.
Cerillium wrote:Const is right.
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:You just cornered a scary indian man with a sword-of-brick-shattering.

Have a cookie.
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Zarkenis Ultima
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Founded: Feb 22, 2011
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Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Sun Apr 06, 2014 2:52 pm

"His name is Eric. Mister is like a more polite way of saying 'person'. But it only applies to men. Or something like that, I admit these people and their silly language confuses sometimes." Tristan told Lisoette, before turning his attention to the others as they discussed going to the photography shop. His complete lack of understanding of just what 'ruddy wet blanket' meant aside, he didn't find the idea as detrimental, if only because it was true that they might find this Walter person if they went there, but he didn't want his soul to be trapped in one of those things. He didn't know what it was like and he didn't want to.

"Let's go, but I won't let you take one of those with me in it." He said to the group.
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Agritum
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Founded: May 09, 2011
Anarchy

Postby Agritum » Mon Apr 07, 2014 8:53 am

Constaniana wrote:
Ameriganastan wrote:"Cause people die, kid."

Eric pulled an old photo from his pack, showing a much younger Eric and a few fellow soldiers.

"Benny, Shaun, Malcolm, Miles and Fat Benny. Some of my best buds. All of them are gone now. Benny and Miles died in battle. Fat Benny had a heart attack. Miles was stabbed in an alley. And Malcolm died in prison. My point being, photos preserve old memories so you can look back on them fondly and remember all the fun times...in fact, let's take one now!"

Eric pointed to a photography shop down the road.

"Let's preserve a memory."

"Yeah..." Lisoette said in agreement with Eric, "Wait, your name's mister? I thought it was Eric?"

"Erilhall has a photography shop?" Kroisoto said, surprised, "Tristan's right; we have more important things to be doing now anyway, like-"

"Oh, stop being such a ruddy wet blanket!" Aldraniri cried, grinning in agreement with Eric's suggestion, "Come on, it's not going to hurt taking a brief side trip. Besides, if photographers are a rare sight in this city then maybe the shopkeeper would know that Walter chap the talkative fishmonger mentioned? It could be he sells him supplies or lets him develop his photographs there."

"I suppose you have a point..." the Aurennian conceded, "What do you think, Charlie?"

"Oh, a photography shop? That's simply beautiful! I'd love to buy a camera, myself. It surely would be helpful in supplying images and illustration ideas for my book." Charlie replied enthusiastically, with a smile. "Granted, I don't know if I can actually afford one. I think I'll have to take the cheapest one they can offer. I'd also need a manual, since I'm not really experienced when it comes to photography, but then, I'd be going too much overboard with my budget." she added.
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Constaniana
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Founded: Mar 10, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Constaniana » Mon Apr 07, 2014 1:45 pm

Kassaran wrote:(Dat snip)

Unfortunately for Ero-san, his content dreaming was short-lived. His dreams of simply talking with other people abruptly ceased, as his surroundings within his dreamscape descended into darkness, surrounding him and leaving him utterly alone. That is, until he felt the hairs on his neck stand up, and his blood boil like it did during his feast in the Inferno. If he turned around he would see a seated on a throne even darker than the blackness around him, with torches burning a ghastly green flame burning in front of her. The head of a foul serpent sat in her lap, being gently petted. The woman looked at Erosen and cocked her head slightly, beckoning him forward with a slight grin on her cold face.
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Postby Kassaran » Mon Apr 07, 2014 3:06 pm

Constaniana wrote:Unfortunately for Ero-san, his content dreaming was short-lived. His dreams of simply talking with other people abruptly ceased, as his surroundings within his dreamscape descended into darkness, surrounding him and leaving him utterly alone. That is, until he felt the hairs on his neck stand up, and his blood boil like it did during his feast in the Inferno. If he turned around he would see a seated on a throne even darker than the blackness around him, with torches burning a ghastly green flame burning in front of her. The head of a foul serpent sat in her lap, being gently petted. The woman looked at Erosen and cocked her head slightly, beckoning him forward with a slight grin on her cold face.


It was the strangest feeling he could recognize, it was, fear, but out of respect, as though he secretly knew that whoever this being was, it was to not be attacked, even though every fiber in his being was yearning for more blood, more of that acrid black liquid which would empower him again to become frenzied. However, his common sense broke through and humbly he approached the dark being seated upon the throne, however, he refused to bow and instead continued his stride up towards the being, marching as close as he could get without feeling sick from the evil radiating off of it. Indeed, while the language of man he knew very little of and understood even less, he knew this abomination would understand his next vocal sentiment," You aren't welcome here child of Tenaembra, speak quickly and state why you reveal yourself to me in this fashion and tell me why I shouldn't send you back to the very deepest parts of the abyss in oblivion itself!"

His lips raised up over his teeth revealing that they had only begun to grow sharper in contact with the demon blood, which had acted as a sort of acidic file on the enamel of the tooth, which in turn revealed something interesting about his body, that the core of his teeth were several times stronger than the actual enamel itself yet he was an elemental and perhaps this was simply a physical adaptation brought on by his life in the wilderness. In response to the lips lifting up, a deep guttural growl began to emanate from his throat, it was purely reactionary, though perhaps a slight bit used in the hope it might actually seem intimidating to the being in the chair.
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Zarkenis Ultima wrote:Tristan noticed footsteps behind him and looked there, only to see Eric approaching and then pointing his sword at the girl. He just blinked a few times at this before speaking.

"Put that down, Mr. Eric." He said. "She's obviously not a chicken."
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The United Remnants of America wrote:You keep that cheap Chinese knock-off away from the real OG...

bloody hell, mate.
that's a real deal. We just don't buy the license rights.

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Postby Constaniana » Mon Apr 07, 2014 3:11 pm

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:"His name is Eric. Mister is like a more polite way of saying 'person'. But it only applies to men. Or something like that, I admit these people and their silly language confuses sometimes." Tristan told Lisoette, before turning his attention to the others as they discussed going to the photography shop. His complete lack of understanding of just what 'ruddy wet blanket' meant aside, he didn't find the idea as detrimental, if only because it was true that they might find this Walter person if they went there, but he didn't want his soul to be trapped in one of those things. He didn't know what it was like and he didn't want to.

"Let's go, but I won't let you take one of those with me in it." He said to the group.

Agritum wrote:"Oh, a photography shop? That's simply beautiful! I'd love to buy a camera, myself. It surely would be helpful in supplying images and illustration ideas for my book." Charlie replied enthusiastically, with a smile. "Granted, I don't know if I can actually afford one. I think I'll have to take the cheapest one they can offer. I'd also need a manual, since I'm not really experienced when it comes to photography, but then, I'd be going too much overboard with my budget." she added.

Charlie's total approval of going to the photography shop swept aside the last vestige of resistance Kroisoto had to the idea, and the group walked over to the photography shop Eric had pointed out to them. A bell tingled as they stepped through the door, and a young man greeted them from behind a glass counter, dressed in a fairly smart-looking black tunic with one row of small white buttons going down on the left side.

"Hullo, and welcome to Bayletook and Grenne's photography studio and equipment shop. How may I be of assistance to you all today?" he enquired, his accent distinctly non-Erilhallman accent, sounding closer to the High Galllish Kroisoto, other nobility and scholars generally spoke in to facilitate easier communication.

"We'd like a group portrait first, except for the younger white-haired chap; he's got a bit of a phobia about photographs," said Kroisoto, pointing to Tristan.

"Very well. Step this way, if you would," the man behind the counter said, stepping out and pointing to room with a black curtain covering the entryway, "You will pleased to know that management has marked the prices down on the shop's entire range of services and inventory, as part of the upcoming celebrations for Saint Vatlanmi's Day," he added, before going into one of the back rooms and asking its occupant to keep an eye on the counter while he took the photograph. It was a quick and efficient process, with the five members of the group present sitting down on a couch. A few moments to get settled how they wanted, a smile at the camera, and a quick flash, and the photograph was taken. "Your photograph will take approximately two-thirds of an hour to develop. You are quite free to browse the shop's inventory in the meantime." The man quickly strode off to another one of the shop's rooms to begin developing the photo, leaving them the second employee in the room. He too was young and dressed in a smart black tunic, though his lacked the buttons.

"Pardon me for asking, but does somebody Walter come in here fairly often?" Aldraniri asked.

"Walter? Really into photography, hes a big brother who talks too much?" The sales clerk replied, to which the redhead enthusiastically nodded. "Aye, he comes in here a lot. Mr. Grenne likes him a lot, probably because he reminds him of when he roamed about the world, taking photographs of the last war, Yuelkelus, Ilfalian river towns, and whatnot. He's been spending a lot of his time around the docks and the College of Bracksbure, from what I hear. Maybe it's due to the ironclads docked there so often as of late?"
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Postby Ameriganastan » Mon Apr 07, 2014 4:03 pm

"...I'm sorry, did you say a man named Greene owns this establishment?"

Eric strolled over to the young man, throwing a friendly arm around him. Though the aura he was emanating was very unfriendly.

"So that's what he did with the money from that little excursion we had those years ago. Can't believe he didn't change his name after he left me with a stolen statuette and the city guard on my tail. No way he thought I was dead."

Eric pinched the kids cheek mockingly, pointing at Charlie.

"I'm a forgiving man. So this is what's gonna happen. You're gonna let my friend there have whatever picture taking device she wishes. Even if it's the most expensive one you've got. You do that, and ol' Green won't come back to find his shop in tatters, his shop boys beaten like red-headed stepchildren and a pissed off old acquaintance waiting for him with a freshly sharpened sword."

He released the kid and gave him a "friendly" smack on the back.

"Good news, kid. Your purchase is on the house."
Last edited by Ameriganastan on Mon Apr 07, 2014 4:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Constaniana » Mon Apr 07, 2014 5:43 pm

Kassaran wrote:
Constaniana wrote:Unfortunately for Ero-san, his content dreaming was short-lived. His dreams of simply talking with other people abruptly ceased, as his surroundings within his dreamscape descended into darkness, surrounding him and leaving him utterly alone. That is, until he felt the hairs on his neck stand up, and his blood boil like it did during his feast in the Inferno. If he turned around he would see a seated on a throne even darker than the blackness around him, with torches burning a ghastly green flame burning in front of her. The head of a foul serpent sat in her lap, being gently petted. The woman looked at Erosen and cocked her head slightly, beckoning him forward with a slight grin on her cold face.


It was the strangest feeling he could recognize, it was, fear, but out of respect, as though he secretly knew that whoever this being was, it was to not be attacked, even though every fiber in his being was yearning for more blood, more of that acrid black liquid which would empower him again to become frenzied. However, his common sense broke through and humbly he approached the dark being seated upon the throne, however, he refused to bow and instead continued his stride up towards the being, marching as close as he could get without feeling sick from the evil radiating off of it. Indeed, while the language of man he knew very little of and understood even less, he knew this abomination would understand his next vocal sentiment," You aren't welcome here child of Tenaembra, speak quickly and state why you reveal yourself to me in this fashion and tell me why I shouldn't send you back to the very deepest parts of the abyss in oblivion itself!"

His lips raised up over his teeth revealing that they had only begun to grow sharper in contact with the demon blood, which had acted as a sort of acidic file on the enamel of the tooth, which in turn revealed something interesting about his body, that the core of his teeth were several times stronger than the actual enamel itself yet he was an elemental and perhaps this was simply a physical adaptation brought on by his life in the wilderness. In response to the lips lifting up, a deep guttural growl began to emanate from his throat, it was purely reactionary, though perhaps a slight bit used in the hope it might actually seem intimidating to the being in the chair.

The pale woman on the throne smirked more, beginning a chuckle which gradually crescendoed into a peal of derisive laughter as she continued to stroke her pet, studying Erosen more intently.

"Oh my, such spirit! Such gusto and confidence!" She noted, continuing to laugh, "Tell me, why should I fear you, or give heed to your orders? The most you command is the dumb trees of the woods you lurk in! Your power is nothing I have to fear, even if you were standing in the most ancient forest on Gaiaca. You think your teeth that tear the rodents that scurry underfoot can harm me? Let me show you what truly fearsome fangs are like!"

The serpent that had been resting its head on the woman's lap reared its head up, opening a single eye the same colour as its mistress's, and slid off her. More of the creature's body slithered out from behind the throne and seemingly from all the darkness around Ero-san and it soon towered over the wild man. It looked down at the Elcrescian malignantly, hissing and opening its mouth to reveal rows sallow fangs the size of claymores, and a forked tongue like a whip.

"You don't scare me, Erosen. I don't even need my pretty pet here to defeat you, though you wouldn't be able to inflict any lasting harm to me anyway, seeing as you're merely dreaming. But I like wandering the dreams of mortals. A lot of the time I merely remain hidden and whisper to them the things the deep recesses of their minds wish to do, but find themselves restrained by the rest of their mind and spirit, but sometimes I get people like you, who make it too tempting to resist showing myself. It's so fun watching them wrestle with the fact that I'm in their dreams, reading their lusts and desires like the pages of a book," the being continued, her voice husky and her legs crossed, before she brought her wrist up to her mouth and suddenly bit into it. Dark, dark red blood flowed from the wound into a glass that had suddenly appeared in her other hand, stopping when the wound healed itself upon the goblet becoming full.

"I know you want this," she purred, holding it out to the Elemental.
Join Elementals 3, one of P2TM's oldest high fantasy roleplays, full of adventure, humour, and saving the world.
Agritum wrote:I want to marry you now, my British damsel.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:You know, I didn't expect you to be the most psychopathic person here.

I have the oddest of feelings this is my fault somehow.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I just realised how bizarre Const's existence is.
Cerillium wrote:Const is right.
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:You just cornered a scary indian man with a sword-of-brick-shattering.

Have a cookie.
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Postby Kassaran » Mon Apr 07, 2014 6:07 pm

Constaniana wrote:
Kassaran wrote:The pale woman on the throne smirked more, beginning a chuckle which gradually crescendoed into a peal of derisive laughter as she continued to stroke her pet, studying Erosen more intently.

"Oh my, such spirit! Such gusto and confidence!" She noted, continuing to laugh, "Tell me, why should I fear you, or give heed to your orders? The most you command is the dumb trees of the woods you lurk in! Your power is nothing I have to fear, even if you were standing in the most ancient forest on Gaiaca. You think your teeth that tear the rodents that scurry underfoot can harm me? Let me show you what truly fearsome fangs are like!"

The serpent that had been resting its head on the woman's lap reared its head up, opening a single eye the same colour as its mistress's, and slid off her. More of the creature's body slithered out from behind the throne and seemingly from all the darkness around Ero-san and it soon towered over the wild man. It looked down at the Elcrescian malignantly, hissing and opening its mouth to reveal rows sallow fangs the size of claymores, and a forked tongue like a whip.

"You don't scare me, Erosen. I don't even need my pretty pet here to defeat you, though you wouldn't be able to inflict any lasting harm to me anyway, seeing as you're merely dreaming. But I like wandering the dreams of mortals. A lot of the time I merely remain hidden and whisper to them the things the deep recesses of their minds wish to do, but find themselves restrained by the rest of their mind and spirit, but sometimes I get people like you, who make it too tempting to resist showing myself. It's so fun watching them wrestle with the fact that I'm in their dreams, reading their lusts and desires like the pages of a book," the being continued, her voice husky and her legs crossed, before she brought her wrist up to her mouth and suddenly bit into it. Dark, dark red blood flowed from the wound into a glass that had suddenly appeared in her other hand, stopping when the wound healed itself upon the goblet becoming full.

"I know you want this," she purred, holding it out to the Elemental.


He was almost overcome by his lust for the blood that he indeed had overwritten every safeguard in his mind save one, why would she injure herself, he was discounting the point that this was a dream, mostly because he didn't truly understand the cause of them or what they were. He looked at the deamoness in the throne, and then back at her goblet of blood, and spoke, revealing that even though he'd be beaten, he cared not for as long as he'd live he'd exist purely to destroy her and her kind," What is it and why does it drive me so frenzied? What sorcery, what madness is it that is invoked when I partake of your kind's blood, and why is it that I find it so much more, desirable? On top of this all, it is not what I truly desire and you know that."
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Zarkenis Ultima wrote:Tristan noticed footsteps behind him and looked there, only to see Eric approaching and then pointing his sword at the girl. He just blinked a few times at this before speaking.

"Put that down, Mr. Eric." He said. "She's obviously not a chicken."
The Knockout Gun Gals wrote:
The United Remnants of America wrote:You keep that cheap Chinese knock-off away from the real OG...

bloody hell, mate.
that's a real deal. We just don't buy the license rights.

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Constaniana
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Postby Constaniana » Mon Apr 07, 2014 6:10 pm

Ameriganastan wrote:"...I'm sorry, did you say a man named Greene owns this establishment?"

Eric strolled over to the young man, throwing a friendly arm around him. Though the aura he was emanating was very unfriendly.

"So that's what he did with the money from that little excursion we had those years ago. Can't believe he didn't change his name after he left me with a stolen statuette and the city guard on my tail. No way he thought I was dead."

Eric pinched the kids cheek mockingly, pointing at Charlie.

"I'm a forgiving man. So this is what's gonna happen. You're gonna let my friend there have whatever picture taking device she wishes. Even if it's the most expensive one you've got. You do that, and ol' Green won't come back to find his shop in tatters, his shop boys beaten like red-headed stepchildren and a pissed off old acquaintance waiting for him with a freshly sharpened sword."

He released the kid and gave him a "friendly" smack on the back.

"Good news, kid. Your purchase is on the house."

"Gr-green? No, one of the owners is called Grenne! Grenne, you senile bandit!" the clerk cried. "I don't even think there's a man named Greene in this city at all!"

Across the street from the shop, in a dimly-lit flat sat an old man, hunched over a telescope aimed through the shutters, cackling vengefully.

"Eh heh heh. Fooled you again, Eric. Have fun wrecking Grenne's shop; the little bugger deserves it. Marrying my Gwen, the cheating scoundrel..." The bitter geezer coughed and quickly popped his hand out the window to make a series of foul hand gestures both foreign and domestic in the direction of Grenne's shop and Eric.

"And what's wrong with redheads? How come you want to beat us around, hm?" Aldraniri huffed, glaring at the old soldier.

"By the Host, Eric, do you really think committing armed robbery in broad daylight is a good idea at any time in a place like this, let alone when there's Federal troops in the streets for whatever reason? I don't know about you, but I would really like to keep the number of people chasing after us to an absolute minimum," Kroisoto hissed, stepping close to the wandering geezer.
Join Elementals 3, one of P2TM's oldest high fantasy roleplays, full of adventure, humour, and saving the world.
Agritum wrote:I want to marry you now, my British damsel.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:You know, I didn't expect you to be the most psychopathic person here.

I have the oddest of feelings this is my fault somehow.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I just realised how bizarre Const's existence is.
Cerillium wrote:Const is right.
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:You just cornered a scary indian man with a sword-of-brick-shattering.

Have a cookie.
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Postby Constaniana » Mon Apr 07, 2014 6:23 pm

Kassaran wrote:He was almost overcome by his lust for the blood that he indeed had overwritten every safeguard in his mind save one, why would she injure herself, he was discounting the point that this was a dream, mostly because he didn't truly understand the cause of them or what they were. He looked at the deamoness in the throne, and then back at her goblet of blood, and spoke, revealing that even though he'd be beaten, he cared not for as long as he'd live he'd exist purely to destroy her and her kind," What is it and why does it drive me so frenzied? What sorcery, what madness is it that is invoked when I partake of your kind's blood, and why is it that I find it so much more, desirable? On top of this all, it is not what I truly desire and you know that."

"Your first question is easy to answer. It's Demon blood. The second one, well..." the temptress paused to began chuckling again, stepping off the throne and walking towards Erosen. The Nature Elemental would realize that she was bloody tall; easily seven foot at the minimum in the reckoning of men.

"When you taste of the blood of Demonkin you take in a portion of the essence of Tenaembra, however minuscule, however innocuous it may seem in small doses. You taste of darkness, of temptation, of power and an abandonment of those silly restraints the other gods place upon you; how could you not find it desirable to taste?" The woman began slowly circling Ero-san, inspecting him like an oxen for sale, "And besides, how do you know it's not what the darkest bowels of your heart desire? What is it you think you would do with your life? Slay demons, live in the forests, in squalor and ignorance and loneliness? How long has Veridaelia's service kept you separate from others? Think of how much happier you could be...how much more powerful...nobody could have driven you from the forests if you had Tenaembra's gifts."
Join Elementals 3, one of P2TM's oldest high fantasy roleplays, full of adventure, humour, and saving the world.
Agritum wrote:I want to marry you now, my British damsel.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:You know, I didn't expect you to be the most psychopathic person here.

I have the oddest of feelings this is my fault somehow.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I just realised how bizarre Const's existence is.
Cerillium wrote:Const is right.
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:You just cornered a scary indian man with a sword-of-brick-shattering.

Have a cookie.
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Postby Ameriganastan » Mon Apr 07, 2014 6:31 pm

Constaniana wrote:"Gr-green? No, one of the owners is called Grenne! Grenne, you senile bandit!" the clerk cried. "I don't even think there's a man named Greene in this city at all!"

Across the street from the shop, in a dimly-lit flat sat an old man, hunched over a telescope aimed through the shutters, cackling vengefully.

"Eh heh heh. Fooled you again, Eric. Have fun wrecking Grenne's shop; the little bugger deserves it. Marrying my Gwen, the cheating scoundrel..." The bitter geezer coughed and quickly popped his hand out the window to make a series of foul hand gestures both foreign and domestic in the direction of Grenne's shop and Eric.

"And what's wrong with redheads? How come you want to beat us around, hm?" Aldraniri huffed, glaring at the old soldier.

"By the Host, Eric, do you really think committing armed robbery in broad daylight is a good idea at any time in a place like this, let alone when there's Federal troops in the streets for whatever reason? I don't know about you, but I would really like to keep the number of people chasing after us to an absolute minimum," Kroisoto hissed, stepping close to the wandering geezer.

"It's not 'Armed' robbery'...per-se. I didn't draw my sword, so I'm technically not robbing anything."

He twiddled his beard, trying to play the whole thing off.

"Simple case of mistaken identity was all. And don't you worry about the troops round here. Pretty sure I know a guy in the local city guard around here who owes me a favor...wait...no, he's in jail. He's dead. He married a tree...uh...never mind."

He gave threatened shop boy an extra bit of cash for his troubles.

"And there's nothing wrong with redheads...except for that one-eyed one named Finnegan I met back in Beiriuk."
Last edited by Ameriganastan on Mon Apr 07, 2014 6:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The Incompetent Critic
DENVER BRONCOS fan
Eric Lumen: Ultimate Chad
Force of nature.
The Ameri Train.
The Ameri song
Tsundere Ameri.
HulkAmeri
Ameri goes to court.
Universal Constant
Edward Richtofen wrote:Ameri's so tough that he criticized an Insane Asylum and was promptly let out

Ameri does the impossible.
Fire the Ameri.
Sinovet wrote:Ameri's like Honey badger. He don't give a fuck.

Krazakistan wrote: He is a force of negativity for the sake of negativity

Onocarcass wrote:Trying to change Ameri, is like trying to drag a 2 ton block of lead with your d**k.

Immoren wrote:When Ameri says something is shit it's good and when Ameri says some thing is good it's great. *nods*

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Kassaran
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Postby Kassaran » Mon Apr 07, 2014 7:35 pm

Constaniana wrote:"Your first question is easy to answer. It's Demon blood. The second one, well..." the temptress paused to began chuckling again, stepping off the throne and walking towards Erosen. The Nature Elemental would realize that she was bloody tall; easily seven foot at the minimum in the reckoning of men.

"When you taste of the blood of Demonkin you take in a portion of the essence of Tenaembra, however minuscule, however innocuous it may seem in small doses. You taste of darkness, of temptation, of power and an abandonment of those silly restraints the other gods place upon you; how could you not find it desirable to taste?" The woman began slowly circling Ero-san, inspecting him like an oxen for sale, "And besides, how do you know it's not what the darkest bowels of your heart desire? What is it you think you would do with your life? Slay demons, live in the forests, in squalor and ignorance and loneliness? How long has Veridaelia's service kept you separate from others? Think of how much happier you could be...how much more powerful...nobody could have driven you from the forests if you had Tenaembra's gifts."


"Hmm, indeed I could have, but no matter for that, you do not know what I truly desire if you feel I wish to be out of the service of she who gave me my gifts from the start. I do not want anything to do with you and your kind and most of all I do not wish to violate the will of she who has protected me my entire life. How do I not know that you are here to tempt me, to keep me from serving my true purpose here. How do I not know that Tenaembra was responsible for my suffering, and above all, even if that was not the case, Veridaelia is she who gave me all and she is more than capable of taking all. I should not complain if she decides to do as she pleases, and I most of all should not revoke my commitment to her simply for feeling as though I have been deprived of such a 'life' as you put it." He was angry now though, he was beginning to see the injustice of it all, but he never had been the perfect guardian and thus he didn't expect to be treated as such.

In spite of it all however, he did desire to be able to talk with the others, they constantly babbled and gurgled amongst one another in their strange and foreign tongue and it was seemingly important to be able to do so. He looked at the daemoness and made his decision," I do not desire to drop my commitment to protect that which Veridaelia has prominence over, but I do desire the knowledge of all the others. Even the female servant I met of her's in this past day was able to communicate with them. If there is anything my heart desires, it is the knowledge of how to speak with them, yet I doubt you would even follow through with it, so thus I shall wait on Veridaelia and I shall wait until she has deemed me capable of doing so."

He now was slightly intimidated, and he was fearful, fearful that this daemoness was about to strike him down as he stood here before her, but he felt strengthened each time he said the name of Veridaelia, and it was in speaking her name he felt surges of bravery and boldness, but they quickly were extinguished by the strange emotions being risen by this dark woman-like being. Staring straight ahead, he did his best to no longer look her in the eye, for now he feared that to even do so would compromise him, and make him unfit for his service. He stood, and silently prayed that he'd be delivered from this nightmare, focusing on the sound of his own heart beating and trying to screen out the words of the sultry temptress before him.
Beware: Walls of Text Generally appear Above this Sig.
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:Tristan noticed footsteps behind him and looked there, only to see Eric approaching and then pointing his sword at the girl. He just blinked a few times at this before speaking.

"Put that down, Mr. Eric." He said. "She's obviously not a chicken."
The Knockout Gun Gals wrote:
The United Remnants of America wrote:You keep that cheap Chinese knock-off away from the real OG...

bloody hell, mate.
that's a real deal. We just don't buy the license rights.

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Founded: Mar 10, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Constaniana » Tue Apr 08, 2014 2:08 pm

Kassaran wrote:"Hmm, indeed I could have, but no matter for that, you do not know what I truly desire if you feel I wish to be out of the service of she who gave me my gifts from the start. I do not want anything to do with you and your kind and most of all I do not wish to violate the will of she who has protected me my entire life. How do I not know that you are here to tempt me, to keep me from serving my true purpose here. How do I not know that Tenaembra was responsible for my suffering, and above all, even if that was not the case, Veridaelia is she who gave me all and she is more than capable of taking all. I should not complain if she decides to do as she pleases, and I most of all should not revoke my commitment to her simply for feeling as though I have been deprived of such a 'life' as you put it." He was angry now though, he was beginning to see the injustice of it all, but he never had been the perfect guardian and thus he didn't expect to be treated as such.

In spite of it all however, he did desire to be able to talk with the others, they constantly babbled and gurgled amongst one another in their strange and foreign tongue and it was seemingly important to be able to do so. He looked at the daemoness and made his decision," I do not desire to drop my commitment to protect that which Veridaelia has prominence over, but I do desire the knowledge of all the others. Even the female servant I met of her's in this past day was able to communicate with them. If there is anything my heart desires, it is the knowledge of how to speak with them, yet I doubt you would even follow through with it, so thus I shall wait on Veridaelia and I shall wait until she has deemed me capable of doing so."

He now was slightly intimidated, and he was fearful, fearful that this daemoness was about to strike him down as he stood here before her, but he felt strengthened each time he said the name of Veridaelia, and it was in speaking her name he felt surges of bravery and boldness, but they quickly were extinguished by the strange emotions being risen by this dark woman-like being. Staring straight ahead, he did his best to no longer look her in the eye, for now he feared that to even do so would compromise him, and make him unfit for his service. He stood, and silently prayed that he'd be delivered from this nightmare, focusing on the sound of his own heart beating and trying to screen out the words of the sultry temptress before him.

"So strong, so resolute," she noted, stopping in front of Erosen as the serpent slowly circled the pair of them. "I really do enjoy the mortals like you. You make for such fascinating prey. Yes, most of them get away and go forth frustrating my husband's plans...but every once in a while one of you slips and succumbs, and when you do, it's delicious. And you've got the chinks in that armour of yours...the desire to speak to others, brought on by your lifetime of isolation and resulting need for human contact, you poor lonely soul...and you've already tasted the sweet power of Darkness. Perhaps it's not as compelling a weakness as some other Elementals over the years, like wanting to preserve their kingdom, or being torn between the love of two women, the creeping sickness of jealousy, the flame of vengeance tended to for centuries...but it's the beginning of an addiction nonetheless," Her tail coiled around Erosen's leg, and she laughed, "It's a chain I can start to tug at, however weakly. But that's enough threats for now, sweet Erosen. I grant you gifts far quicker than Veridaelia does, remember..."

The woman took a few steps away from the Elemental and snapped her fingers, and her serpent lunged towards him, quickly wrapping itself around him and squeezing, sinking its fangs into Erosen.

Erosen would wake up feeling a bit winded, but otherwise unharmed, back in the inn's attic, which wasn't as empty as it had first seemed. It turned out people left the windows to attics open for a reason, such as if they needed to throw something out of them, like dust being swept up or strange intruders.

"Oi! What es ya doin' here, ya tobber? Ya can't sleep up here! Even if ya did rent the attic to sleep in bacause it's cheaper to sleep in I 'spose, ya can't sleep here now! We've got to make room for the party for Saint Vatlanmi's Day, and ya're sleeping right where we need to put some chairs!" said a feminine voice belonging to a young woman prodding the Nature Elemental with a broom. She was fairly attractive, with her raven hair pulled back in a bun, contrasting with her pale skin and light blue eyes, though she was a tad plump for her plain green dress. There was a loud thud as several burly men set casks down on the floor, as a few, heaving and grunting, carried in a table that they set down in between the casks already lined up along one of the walls. Incredibly, the wild man could understand the Galllian, who was sternly glaring at Ero-San.
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Agritum wrote:I want to marry you now, my British damsel.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:You know, I didn't expect you to be the most psychopathic person here.

I have the oddest of feelings this is my fault somehow.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I just realised how bizarre Const's existence is.
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Kassaran
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Posts: 10648
Founded: Jun 16, 2013
Democratic Socialists

Postby Kassaran » Tue Apr 08, 2014 5:22 pm

Constaniana wrote:"So strong, so resolute," she noted, stopping in front of Erosen as the serpent slowly circled the pair of them. "I really do enjoy the mortals like you. You make for such fascinating prey. Yes, most of them get away and go forth frustrating my husband's plans...but every once in a while one of you slips and succumbs, and when you do, it's delicious. And you've got the chinks in that armour of yours...the desire to speak to others, brought on by your lifetime of isolation and resulting need for human contact, you poor lonely soul...and you've already tasted the sweet power of Darkness. Perhaps it's not as compelling a weakness as some other Elementals over the years, like wanting to preserve their kingdom, or being torn between the love of two women, the creeping sickness of jealousy, the flame of vengeance tended to for centuries...but it's the beginning of an addiction nonetheless," Her tail coiled around Erosen's leg, and she laughed, "It's a chain I can start to tug at, however weakly. But that's enough threats for now, sweet Erosen. I grant you gifts far quicker than Veridaelia does, remember..."

The woman took a few steps away from the Elemental and snapped her fingers, and her serpent lunged towards him, quickly wrapping itself around him and squeezing, sinking its fangs into Erosen.

Erosen would wake up feeling a bit winded, but otherwise unharmed, back in the inn's attic, which wasn't as empty as it had first seemed. It turned out people left the windows to attics open for a reason, such as if they needed to throw something out of them, like dust being swept up or strange intruders.

"Oi! What es ya doin' here, ya tobber? Ya can't sleep up here! Even if ya did rent the attic to sleep in bacause it's cheaper to sleep in I 'spose, ya can't sleep here now! We've got to make room for the party for Saint Vatlanmi's Day, and ya're sleeping right where we need to put some chairs!" said a feminine voice belonging to a young woman prodding the Nature Elemental with a broom. She was fairly attractive, with her raven hair pulled back in a bun, contrasting with her pale skin and light blue eyes, though she was a tad plump for her plain green dress. There was a loud thud as several burly men set casks down on the floor, as a few, heaving and grunting, carried in a table that they set down in between the casks already lined up along one of the walls. Incredibly, the wild man could understand the Galllian, who was sternly glaring at Ero-San.


He started, he understood what she meant, he had the knowledge of the words he'd never been given before, and on top of it all, he now knew how to speak back, but he mostly was just so stunned by being given this knowledge that he didn't respond with words. Letting his actions speak for him, he immediately stood up and began to make a break for the open window, pausing momentarily to turn back and grab his instrument, and then bobbing his head slightly, he dove out the open attic window, landing on the ground below with a cat-like agility he had not been using since his run through the woods the night before. Moving away from the inn, he began to make his way through the streets, his rags still giving him away as the same person, yet with his demeanor and his mind now different, he began to walk down the street, and though he understood the sentiments behind the phrases spoken, he simply couldn't divine how to use them himself, being in all of his own respects a mute. Given that he'd really only ever used his voice for wild animal calls, and now having the ability to communicate with others, he was left with a startling conflict.

He was a servant of Veridaelia and he served her often with no regrets and no complains, but here he was given a gift he'd always desired, and with it, he could now operate and function in society all the more, but it was not by Veridaelia's hand that he had received this gift. To use it, would he be secretly accepting a contract or gift with a hidden clause to which he had not the faintest clue on how to avoid or moreover, wait a moment, he paused in his thoughts, how do I even know what those words mean? Did she seriously give me the meanings to them all, did she teach me the language so I'd know it better than most others would fishing? He started as he realized that he now knew lesser comparisons and jeezus, I know everything about this language, conjugations and clauses and everything in between and-. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, this knowledge, he wasn't going to be able to censor his knowing it, there was no way he was going to be able to unlearn what he'd attained, but he could choose to not capitalize on it, he knew that the daemoness he'd encountered expected him to somehow abuse this gift, to use it for himself and only for his own devices and it was here he made his vow.

He knew the dangers of capitalizing on his seemingly ill gotten gift, and deeming himself unworthy to possess it meant he would have to ensure his usage of it indeed was so sparing that he would only allow himself to use it in the most dire of situations. Agreeing within himself to avoid using it the best he could, he began to make his way down the streets, following the scent of the castle they had left ah, so that's what that was, alright, what an edifice indeed and how majestic now to think back on it and soon he came upon them inside the photography shop, and walking up to them, he waved, a gesture he knew apparently as a greeting how do i know that is a greeting apparently she gave me more than I initially thought and approached. for the first time since he'd met them, he was actually feeling confident, and capable of dealing with the human world, or at least what little he'd seen already.
Last edited by Kassaran on Tue Apr 08, 2014 5:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Zarkenis Ultima wrote:Tristan noticed footsteps behind him and looked there, only to see Eric approaching and then pointing his sword at the girl. He just blinked a few times at this before speaking.

"Put that down, Mr. Eric." He said. "She's obviously not a chicken."
The Knockout Gun Gals wrote:
The United Remnants of America wrote:You keep that cheap Chinese knock-off away from the real OG...

bloody hell, mate.
that's a real deal. We just don't buy the license rights.

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Constaniana
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 25419
Founded: Mar 10, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Constaniana » Wed Apr 09, 2014 7:57 pm

"Well, if we ever meet this Finnegan fellow you are to attempt extorting him to your heart's content," Kroisoto replied sarcastically, before turning his attention back to the cameras for sale. The sales clerk nervously took the offered Danethrums from Eric's hand, stuffing them in the money purse he had on his belt. Aldraniri glanced around the shop, but it was one of those places where he was afraid of tripping or somehow causing an accident that would break fragile things. The thought of building one of these devices made him feel uneasy. He was glad to have been training to be an armourer. Forging a sword required a certain degree of finesse and precision, yes, but you always had the option to simply melt the metal down and start over again if something went wrong. If he had been making jewellery or these tricky camera obscura then a single mistake could wreck the whole thing and leave him with naught but a cracked gemstone, or broken gears and bulbs and whatever else went into the picture-making devices. His musings on craftsmanship were interrupted when he heard the shop's bell tingle again as the wild man walked in, looking strangely...friendly. It was quite a change from the person he had only met the night before, who snarled and scurried away from other men like a fearful wolf. Perhaps he had taken a fall in his rooftop scamper and had some sense knocked into him?

"Er...hullo again. Is the city guard still chasing you?" Aldraniri enquired, though he didn't expect much of a response aside from grunts. Lisoette gave Erosen a fearful glance as she scooted closer towards Tristan, standing close behind him.
Last edited by Constaniana on Wed Apr 09, 2014 7:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Join Elementals 3, one of P2TM's oldest high fantasy roleplays, full of adventure, humour, and saving the world.
Agritum wrote:I want to marry you now, my British damsel.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:You know, I didn't expect you to be the most psychopathic person here.

I have the oddest of feelings this is my fault somehow.
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I just realised how bizarre Const's existence is.
Cerillium wrote:Const is right.
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:You just cornered a scary indian man with a sword-of-brick-shattering.

Have a cookie.
Winner of the Best High Fantasy RP of P2TM twice in a row Choo Choo

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