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Posted:
Fri Jul 17, 2020 7:26 pmby Phaenix
Danceria wrote:Phaerix, Talon Harbor
Two ships, both alike in dignity, amidst the dingy waters of Talon Harbour is where we lay the scene. Yet neither ship was alike in content nor conduct, for one flew the red aquila of Archades, while the other flew the blue dragon around a white tree. One ship was largely human, while the other held a motley mix of species great and small, and all relatively humanoid. The ship from Archades was indistinguishable from those in Phaenix, the Byzantine spirit proudly borne and enduring. Those from Dunseron were less uniform, hailing from many kingdoms, one of Man, one of Dwarf, and one of Beastfolk. Both nations held proud mariner traditions stretching back to their foundations, yet pleasantries were terse and exchanges were kept painfully curt and short. As the two marched notably apart from one another, many onlookers felt and feared a fight may break out between the two parties here and now. Especially when the tall, dark haired ambassador decided to personally size up the diminutive Dunseron.
“Well, well, well.” Came the Hellene’s haughty introduction. “A Barbaroi’s boat came into harbour, Providence does not favour you.”
“Providence has placed us both in the same harbour and upon the same path.” Came the Dunseron’s succinct reply, and an extension of his hand. “For the sake of Arda, I hope we both make an impression upon this “Emperor”.”
A barking laugh and a few words were exchanged between the Grecian generalissimo and his entourage, “ “For the sake of “Arda”.” he mimicked and mocked the tone of the young, pale skinned and pale-haired knight. “For the sake of
Hesperos-” A subtle linguistic correction, between the native Dunserons and the Byzantines who colonized in the east, naming the vast continents that they dwelt upon “-and my cousin the
Basileus I am here to display goodly might. I’m certain there is a court for pages to preen their petitions.” From the bowels of the Dunseron ship came the growled chirping telltale of a Dancerian Dragon. Now these beings came in varying sizes-usually the older and more powerful growing in accordance, but most kept smaller sizes. This one in particular had a marble grey coat, slightly larger than a cow but with the nimbleness of a cat, as she gently pawed her way from the depths to the mast and narrowed her eyes at the braggart who belittled her master. Calling back in the secret tongue of the Riders-carried in by the folk of Berk and Old Valkarth, the dragoness slinked down from mast to deck, before skulking off into the waters by the side of their ship. Sea-cat, being the name of the beast, was aptly called for she was as powerful in the ocean as she was in the skies. A young dragoness, she had not formally gone through the ceremony of being bonded to her master, and the two had only trained for a year, yet they were quick and deep companions.
“Beasts hearken unto beasts.” Came further insult from the Doux, who was answered by a cudgel being flung from the deck square into the back of the Grecian’s head. The culprit, a fiery haired and blazing tempered young She-Dwarf, garbed in the metal-woven robes befitting any Lady of Durin’s Folk. What may occur afterwards was a harsh treatsie in Sindarin, politely informing the Doux that his lineage was of catamites, and other persons of loose morals regarding sex and wealth. The silver haired Dunseron representative hushed her, before a full fight broke out between the crews of the vessels.
“...I apologize on behalf of my fiancee.” Came the Dunseron’s words, a respectful bow. “I look forward to our cooperation for the sake of our motherlands, Princeps.”
Whether out of fearlessness or arrogance, the olive skinned Archadean kept his pace up, smugly smirking at the Dunseron heathens. “Try to keep up, milk-boy. You and your circus.” Once more, the She-Dwarf rushed down, now with her axe in order to show her opinion to the Princeps’ pontificating. Once more, the Dunseron held her back. Now was not the time to shed blood in the house of another, and the crew kept their work of unloading their cargo and gifts to lay upon the Lord of the Realm...
Phaerix, Talon Harbor
High General Iulianus led the thirty legionaries toward the harbor, accompanied by three archmagi. Upon seeing the two foreign ships, he ordered the column to halt as he dismounted and stepped forward. His red and gold plate clinking as he walked, he stopped a few feet away from the doux and the lord-viscount and bowed his head.
"Your Grace, Your Lordship. I am High General Iulianus. Apologies for the large contingent, but I have been given orders to leave fifteen of my legionaries with your ships as the commoners have been riled lately. If you will accompany me to the Imperial Palace?"
Iulianus waited for a reply as his men began to take up positions around the ships.
Posted:
Fri Jul 17, 2020 7:35 pmby Alegeharia
Malik Sighed as the alarms died down and started walking towards the palace’s entrance. He pauses as he senses movement and looks around, with the dim lighting he speaks some ancient words and illuminates the area in a light blue shine. Now that he could see he looked around some more spotting the slave, then turned to keep walking letting the light die out again, he was unsure however if he should step outside at this time and beckoned the slave over. “Do you have any word of what is going on here at the moment good sir? I must know what is happening, and where the emperor is!” He looks around again noticing the air seems reasonably calmer. “It is rather urgent that we figure out the status of issues. If you figure things out come find me at the palace apartments.” With that, he gave the slave a gentle and thankful pat on the shoulder before he and his brothers took to the apartments
Posted:
Fri Jul 17, 2020 7:46 pmby Danceria
Phaenix wrote:Danceria wrote:High General Iulianus led the thirty legionaries toward the harbor, accompanied by three archmagi. Upon seeing the two foreign ships, he ordered the column to halt as he dismounted and stepped forward. His red and gold plate clinking as he walked, he stopped a few feet away from the doux and the lord-viscount and bowed his head.
"Your Grace, Your Lordship. I am High General Iulianus. Apologies for the large contingent, but I have been given orders to leave fifteen of my legionaries with your ships as the commoners have been riled lately. If you will accompany me to the Imperial Palace?"
Iulianus waited for a reply as his men began to take up positions around the ships.
Phaerix, Talon Harbor
En route to the Palace
Popping out of the waters, Sea-Cat looked curiously at the Archmagi, smelling the magic off of them. Once more, the Dunseron hissed a command, and the dragoness rolled her eyes and snarled a sassy comment in Riderspeech.
"You will have to excuse Sea-Cat." the Viscount explained to an Archmage, or a second in command. "She is a dragoness, she will be content to stretch her wings in the harbour if you permit her."
Ahead, and by the side of High General Iulianus, the two seemed remarkably similar. Both in red legionary armour, both mimicking the discipline of Rome, Gaios' grin grew wider. "Not at all, unlike the milk-boy behind me, we are bred to march
ahead of our legions." he sneered at the Dunseron who marched and rallied his own entourage who were beside the Archadeans. "It is good to see such discipline in your ranks, High General." the Grecian continued. "Though I did not know your Emperor inspired such...excitement among your populace." He lowered his voice, but still enough to try and get a rile out of the Viscount. "Mark the beastlings, they are of lower folk and lower birth. No doubt their stench will mingle with those of the rabble." These insults did not go unnoticed by the Dwarven princess, who glowered with a look that could curdle cold iron. For now, the Archades marched with or shortly behind the High General, while the Dunseron-folk were resigned to the rear and near the lower ranks of the contingent, keeping their gifts and cargo.
Posted:
Fri Jul 17, 2020 7:56 pmby Phaenix
Danceria wrote:Phaerix, Talon Harbor
En route to the Palace
Popping out of the waters, Sea-Cat looked curiously at the Archmagi, smelling the magic off of them. Once more, the Dunseron hissed a command, and the dragoness rolled her eyes and snarled a sassy comment in Riderspeech.
"You will have to excuse Sea-Cat." the Viscount explained to an Archmage, or a second in command. "She is a dragoness, she will be content to stretch her wings in the harbour if you permit her."
Ahead, and by the side of High General Iulianus, the two seemed remarkably similar. Both in red legionary armour, both mimicking the discipline of Rome, Gaios' grin grew wider. "Not at all, unlike the milk-boy behind me, we are bred to march
ahead of our legions." he sneered at the Dunseron who marched and rallied his own entourage who were beside the Archadeans. "It is good to see such discipline in your ranks, High General." the Grecian continued. "Though I did not know your Emperor inspired such...excitement among your populace." He lowered his voice, but still enough to try and get a rile out of the Viscount. "Mark the beastlings, they are of lower folk and lower birth. No doubt their stench will mingle with those of the rabble." These insults did not go unnoticed by the Dwarven princess, who glowered with a look that could curdle cold iron. For now, the Archades marched with or shortly behind the High General, while the Dunseron-folk were resigned to the rear and near the lower ranks of the contingent, keeping their gifts and cargo.
Phaerix, Merchant District
The Archmagus looked at the dragon with suspicion before reluctantly nodding.
"Fine, you may let your abnormally large wyvern fly about the harbor, but if I hear of so much as a spark leaving its mouth, I will personally chain it to your ship."
Further ahead, High General Iulianus nodded at the doux's words.
"Aye, the commonfolk hate non-humans with a burning passion because of their support for the late Marcus the Usurper."
Iulianus lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Rumor has it that one of the non-human guests killed an Imperial Guardsmen. It is but a rumor, however the commonfolk had the audacity to attempt to storm the palace. They killed am Archmagus, but there little riot was crushed by the strength of our legionaries."
Posted:
Fri Jul 17, 2020 8:05 pmby Danceria
Phaenix wrote:Phaerix, Merchant District
The Archmagus looked at the dragon with suspicion before reluctantly nodding.
"Fine, you may let your abnormally large wyvern fly about the harbor, but if I hear of so much as a spark leaving its mouth, I will personally chain it to your ship."
Further ahead, High General Iulianus nodded at the doux's words.
"Aye, the commonfolk hate non-humans with a burning passion because of their support for the late Marcus the Usurper."
Iulianus lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Rumor has it that one of the non-human guests killed an Imperial Guardsmen. It is but a rumor, however the commonfolk had the audacity to attempt to storm the palace. They killed am Archmagus, but there little riot was crushed by the strength of our legionaries."
The Dunseron party were a variety of humanoid species-halflings, dwarves, Rougedayn, Miqo'te...and all were nervous under the air that infested with suspicion and anger. Even the Dragoness, while lazily laying on a stone dock, felt her scales crawl. Something was out of place here.
The Doux however smiled further, while a more level headed lieutenant were to speak up. "But isn't your Imperator one who usurped it from one who sympathized-or St. Christopher forbid-
was a beastling?"
"Speak when spoken to, Lieutenant!" Barked Gaios, "Then our nations are more in common than initially thought. Let the Dunserons chant and murmur, give me an auxilla and I shall have the whole realm on their knees!" he boasted, the reactions mixed among those who came with him. Most were here out of duty to the Imperium, some smiled and hushedly concurred with their Princeps. The Dunseron bore this as they always had, with silent dignity.
"What of the culprit?" Shouted the She-Dwarf, this time, not hushed by the Viscount. "Is he alive for questioning? Let him and him alone atone for the crimes!"
Posted:
Fri Jul 17, 2020 8:15 pmby Phaenix
Danceria wrote:Phaenix wrote:Phaerix, Merchant District
The Archmagus looked at the dragon with suspicion before reluctantly nodding.
"Fine, you may let your abnormally large wyvern fly about the harbor, but if I hear of so much as a spark leaving its mouth, I will personally chain it to your ship."
Further ahead, High General Iulianus nodded at the doux's words.
"Aye, the commonfolk hate non-humans with a burning passion because of their support for the late Marcus the Usurper."
Iulianus lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Rumor has it that one of the non-human guests killed an Imperial Guardsmen. It is but a rumor, however the commonfolk had the audacity to attempt to storm the palace. They killed am Archmagus, but there little riot was crushed by the strength of our legionaries."
The Dunseron party were a variety of humanoid species-halflings, dwarves, Rougedayn, Miqo'te...and all were nervous under the air that infested with suspicion and anger. Even the Dragoness, while lazily laying on a stone dock, felt her scales crawl. Something was out of place here.
The Doux however smiled further, while a more level headed lieutenant were to speak up. "But isn't your Imperator one who usurped it from one who sympathized-or St. Christopher forbid-
was a beastling?"
"Speak when spoken to, Lieutenant!" Barked Gaios, "Then our nations are more in common than initially thought. Let the Dunserons chant and murmur, give me an auxilla and I shall have the whole realm on their knees!" he boasted, the reactions mixed among those who came with him. Most were here out of duty to the Imperium, some smiled and hushedly concurred with their Princeps. The Dunseron bore this as they always had, with silent dignity.
"What of the culprit?" Shouted the She-Dwarf, this time, not hushed by the Viscount. "Is he alive for questioning? Let him and him alone atone for the crimes!"
Phaerix, Noble District
High General Iulianus scowled upon hearing the lieutenant's comment and nodded when the doux scolded his man.
"I'd recommend you not call His Imperial Majesty's late brother a beast, unless you hate your manhood. But I agree with you, Princeps. People talk up the might of magic, but give me a legion and I'll conquer the continent."
When Iulianus heard the She-Dwarf's comment, he grimaced.
"I am afraid I cannot speak more on the matter. Suffice to say that the soon-to-be Empress had a hand in it."
Posted:
Fri Jul 17, 2020 9:40 pmby Omegaopterix
Through the skeevy alleyways of the Umbra District did Kraxhor the Tyrant roam, on his way to the palace. Some ways back, the ironclad ship that had brought him here waited in the harbor, guarded by a retinue of mutant beasts and rifle-wielding undead infantry. Anyone who even tried to board it would be in for a very nasty surprise. Of course, Kraxhor himself needed no such protection. He had disposed of numerous warriors and lords in his time, as well as several great beasts, and any kind of escort would have been a sign of weakness. If he happened to indeed be struck down, that would be his fault alone and a sign of unworthiness. Allies were fine, but when the jaws of death stared one in the face, only one's own might could save them.
He could of course have waited for an escort to take through safer streets, but that was not the way of his people. The Zixians had traveled the stars for untold millennia, observing some of the greatest wonders and greatest horrors the universe had to offer. Safety and luxury were not their way.
We have observed the greatest of horrors of the galaxy, thought Kraxhor, and now we are them.
A few moments earlier, a human robber had tried to stab him from behind, only to find that rusty knives did not hold up all that well against an ancient, fleshmetal suit of armor. What remained of that scoundrel lay scattered about the ghetto's trash, now the food of rats and the starving dwellers of this place.
Coming near the edge of the neighborhood, he approached an individual in a ragged brown hood and cloak. Most of the being's face was obscured by the hood, but Kraxhor could still see a mouth like that of a goat, but its mouth lined with incisors, and the ends of two long, curled horns.
"Have the contacts been made and the brands burnt?" said Kraxhor, his voice like that of a rumbling volcano.
"Yes, my lord," replied the beast. "Six peddlers of vice, seven plague-ridden madmen, eight killers, and nine diviners are all in my circle and in my debt, all slaves to the Defilers. They stand ready at your command."
"Good," said Kraxhor, "I will contact you if needed." Kraxhor then walked off without another word. A few seconds later, he turned a corner exiting the Umbra and entering a central thoroughfare, down the street and straight into the noble district. Now in the light of the Phaenixian sun, those near him beheld his full visage, an eight-foot tall vision of crimson, with living armor topped with a horned helmet that snarled like a daemon, clothed with a cloak of flayed flesh and bits of bone, covered in strange runes many would consider blasphemous. Chief among these symbols was a human skull with sharp teeth which held in its mouth an eye of red and gold. On each pauldron was a large eye that darted about in all directions, like the oculi of some predator seeking its next meal. Those around Kraxhor gasped in fear and moved aside as he strode without fear towards the palace. After all, who would try to hinder the way of someone with an invitation from the Emperor of Phaenix?
Posted:
Fri Jul 17, 2020 9:46 pmby Alegeharia
It was agreed upon that Aither would stay with Vin in their quarters as Malik went off to find the Emperor. Malik waved to his family as he stepped back out into the hallway of the rooms and followed his ears to each source of sound. Sometimes finding himself interrupting slaves or other workers, he finally finds himself where an important conversation was taking place, he stayed in the shadows using his shadow magic to conceal himself more as he approached slowly scanning the person talking in the hallway, relieved he dropped the shadowed haze from himself walking normally now waving at the conversationalists. “Ahoy good sirs! Pray tell what happened?! Or rather, do you guys know it was not me that caused such a death? I cannot believe such a thing would occur. Its truly tragic…”
Posted:
Fri Jul 17, 2020 11:45 pmby Notalien
At sea, several sailors and fishermen can't but see a most curious sight. A ship made of light speeds over the water, and it is indeed over the water. Almost touching it, but not truly as it never shifts with the waves. It appears in the general shape of a familiar trading ship like any other. But it's made of light and is going faster than any ship ever could and it's sails ignore the wind. It races towards the dock, not slowing down and not diverting it's course. But just as quickly as it came, it comes to a sudden stop. Inside, a being with the simple title of "diplomat" and a being with a simple title of "general" stand. "Joyful: I believe we have successfully fooled the people of this primitive civilization into the belief that this Universal-Transport-Vehicle is a primitive sail-based water transport vehicle." General Thgasif-Mntud can only help think "No, you idiot, you are probably going to get us killed." But ultimately he said nothing.
Posted:
Sat Jul 18, 2020 4:34 amby Kalmarnavia
The restoration of order to the Palace and its grounds was welcome news to Argalaic. He smiled broadly at the Emperor.
"Dontas, you should perhaps change into something more festive. Ser Gerold, you and Ser Tervyn may go and take rest- Ser Jace, you can remain here just as an added precaution."
"Aye, Your Grace."
"Very good, Your Grace."
As the knights left, he turned to speak to Dontas when he felt a rush through his body. A shiver almost. Beads of sweat formed at his brow.
Dontas sensed something was off, and hurriedly closed the door.
"Arge, wha-"
"Ssshhhhh. Listen...You can hear that can't you?"
"Hear wha-"
"That! That there!"
Dontas stared at his friend. The Prince's eyes seemed to glow, almost unnaturally, brighter. He ran to a window and tore it open sticking his head out. He smelled the air, and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"Arge, what is it?"
The Prince turned back to his friend.
"A dragon. A dragon is here."
"One of yours?"
"No, no- this is of different blood than ours. Not the Blood of the Dragon. It is foreign, and powerful...and dangerous, I can feel it."
"Dangerous? To us? A threat?"
"Not a threat, perhaps. But dangerous in that it is powerful...not in a malign way, but powerful."
"You can...tell that from smelling the air?"
"No, I can sense it. It comes with the blood of House Wend, Don- we connect with our own dragons so more deeply than any others ever could hope to, and we can sense other dragons. I've thought I've sensed foreign dragons before, but never this close- this proves ours are not the only bonded dragons in the world."
Dontas exhaled, taken aback.
"Wait- if you can sense this creature, then does that mean..."
"Yes, Don. She can too. Even this far away. That is the level of our bond."
"And if this dragon proves to be malign towards you..?"
Argalaic looked to his friend, his face serious.
"Pray to the Twelve, Dontas. If I am in true danger, from any dragon or any other force, nothing in this world will stop her."
Dontas nodded gravely.
"Enough of this talk, Arge. Let us go find the Emperor, and some more wine. We can expect the festivities to commence shortly, I would assume."
Prince Argalaic nodded, and followed Dontas to the door.
______________
Several hundred leagues away...
Night had fallen over Roskilde, the lights of the buildings twinkling like the stars above. Looming large and high above the capital, straddling its two hills, was the Kungshallen. While the city slept, the fortress like royal palace was still relatively abuzz with guards and servants going about their tasks even at this late our.
Down in the valley between the two hills, surrounded by barracks and royal living complexes, stables and kitchens, 4 guards huddled nervously outside a monstrous open roofed structure. This was the Great Stables, home of the royal dragons of the King and his children, and there was a great noise from within it. Snapping, snarling, deep earth shaking growls, and smoke rising above. The dragons could be restless, particularly old Gravalax who's advanced age had dulled his eyes and his ability to carry his own weight under wing but not the ferocity he was famed for- but not this level, and for once the great old beast was not the root cause.
A tall, slender figure cut her way angrily across the yard, her long red braid bouncing off her back as she marched across the inner yard.
"What is the meaning of calling me from my chambers at this late hour?" Princess Helena of House Wend stood in arms folded, face flushed with indignation, before the guards. Youngest of King Jaehary's children (by moments, albeit), she had been enjoying a relaxing late night wine with her companions when sweating guards had almost taken her door off its hinges.
"We beg twelve pardons, Your Grace," said one, "but your sister the Princess Ollena threatened to drive an axe throw our captain's skull if we tried to rouse her from her chambers."
"It's...the dragons, Your Grace," said another, "they are unusually angry."
Helena sighed heavily.
"Have the Chief Keeper fetch another oxen from the yards and push it through into Gravalax's lair, that will sate him."
"It...it is not Gravalax, Your Grace. We believe, well we think..."
"We think it's Styrax, Princess."
Helena raised her eyebrows. Styrax was never restless when Argalaic was away, never. Something was amiss.
"Lead on, Ser."
Helena and the guards approached the heavy bronze doors to the Stables. The structure was inhuman in size, with intricate carved stonework showing every King and his dragons since the Conquest. The doors heaved open, and the Princess entered.
In the center of the Stables was Styrax, the Red Arrow. Argalaic's mount, she was the fastest and fourth largest of the royal dragons. She was furiously circling the Stables on her four towering legs, her massive wings flapping impatiently, smoke pouring from her nostrils, her golden pupils like slits. Other dragons- Teraxes, Prince Baelon's dragon, and her uncle Prince Aemond's mount Sunsmoke principally, her own mount Chiron staying back- snapped and snarled angrily at Styrax, who returned the gesture.
As Helena approached, Chrion growled low in greeting. Teraxes and Sunsmoke turned to the doors, screeching in indignation. The guards cowered, but Helena was unfazed. She approached Styrax, who stopped, and rocked back on her hindlegs, staring at Helena.
"What troubles you great lady, eh? My brother is not here, but he is not the cause of this surely, eh? Come now..."
Helena was dwarfed by all of the dragons, but she knew how to talk one down- even one as unpredictable as the Red Arrow. Styrax didn't move, continuing to stare at her, smoke pouring from her nostrils.
"Come now, eh? That's it, great lady, that's it..."
Suddenly, Styrax's eyes grew wide. She threw herself forward with force, unfolding her wings and smashing Sunsmoke in the neck with them. She reared up, threw her head back, and roared. Helena was thrown off her feet as the groundshook. Styrax roared, a bellowing almost anguished cry that shook the Great Stables so much that dust from the stonework fell all around. The whole city could hear her bellow. Then, as suddenly as she had started, she stopped. She reared up further, flapped her wings so hard the sand floor of the Stables transformed into a sandy cyclone, and took to flight. She burst out from between the hills, barely missing the great stone bridge linking the two sides of the castle.
Higher and higher she climbed until she was almost a dot on the moon, before turning south with a mighty beat of her wings, and Styrax was gone.
Posted:
Sat Jul 18, 2020 5:51 pmby Shwe Tu Colony
Merchant District
Clack. Clack. Clack.
It was hard to hear above the clashing merchants and profiteering dialogue, but there was a clack of boots and an umbrella like a cappuccino cake on the floor, sounds that felt exotic. The source of them was a young man dressed in a dim gray suit, boots, hat, and pants. There was more vibrancy to him, however — at the ends of his legs and sleeves were cream-colored ends, pinned in by his buttons, and at the brim of his top hat were three white roses, each smaller than the one adjacent and each seemingly breathing, waving up and down, pulsating in and out. Beneath his hat were locks of pale blonde hair, and at his chest was a dull ruby-like gem. Certainly, his attire was luxurious, but his hurried pace and absent-minded smile indicated that he was not likely to be one for neither conversation nor buying.
Next to him was something else.
It was a lanky figure about the height of a preteen boy, and whereas the man's steps were audible and clear, the thing made no sound. Pieces of fabric, ribbon, and string waved out behind him and... was that unrefined cotton? He was like a child's stuffed doll that had been poorly treated and sliced upon along its arm, which was bare white, exposed a great deal of puff, and seemed to be connected to his waist. For the rest of him, bits and pieces of fabric floated off of him, came back, then floated off again. Seams of his bluish robes ripped subtly and exposed a white oblivion, then regenerated back, and just what were those strange devices on his left arm? One, just beneath a small hole in his neck, had a crank that took occasional cotton pieces from that hole, moved, and spat out a piece of cotton and cottonseed, and the other was a hooked apparatus with various knobs that ended with a needle-like point.
His legs were equally as strange: one consisted of black and purple diamonds, with pieces of frayed violet fabric flying in the wind. The other was little more than wrappings of blue, purple, and red; one could even see four exposed columns of metal, as though the figure planned to add more to his textile display of a limb. At his waist were four spools: white, purple, red, blue, and occasionally the tattered purple-gloved left hand fiddled with them and drew out a string, then returned it.
Behind him flew four red ribbons, but these ones flew in irregular ways, acting like curious snakes scenting the air more so than appendages, and at his white chest was a crystal of that same red color, which pulsated every now and then with light.
Stranger still was his shattered mask, somewhat covered by his irregular hair that had a bulb of cotton growing behind it and a sort of black sailor's cap. The most striking detail was that there was no left eye; there were only cracks leading into it. His right eye, if it could be called an eye, was little more than a hole in a mask-like expression, and peering forth from it was a trembling orange sphere.
"Now, Caleb, do you remember what I said before we came here?" The man spoke as though the little thing beside him was a dear child, and there was a sort of timbre to his speech that gave him a trustworthy aura.
"Don't fractalize, touch, tear apart, or spontaneously mend people and their clothes, I got it," he said, hopping a little and giving a sort of salute with a loose arm as he ran with his chaperone. His voice was completely normal, perhaps even cute, as it had the youthful vigor of a young lad dashing through the fields without a care in the world. "I won't disappoint you, Mr. 'lijah."
"Good, good." The man's hand patted the cap, which floated briefly at the touch before falling back down onto Caleb's head. "This will be your first time beyond our little city. You'll have to be careful, understand?"
"Yes, Mr.' lijah." He nodded. "So what're we planning to do today?"
A beat. "Truth be told, I can't be sure if we were invited to the main affair or not, only that we ended up here."
"That is weird, Mr. 'lijah. Do you think we should call back?"
"I already did. They said we're free to stick around if we want to, especially since you need to get used to other folks." He took out an ID card to show Caleb. "Besides, I don't think we'll be in much danger, anyhow, so long as we stay away from their 'Umbra District.' If anyone asks, we'll just introduce yourself, that's all — no reason to fault us after. Just try not to do anything weird while I get us sorted out, if things do turn out that way."
"Okay, Mr.' lijah sir, I'll do my best." He gave another hop and salute. "So, whaddya wanna— oh, do you see that?" The boy dashed forward, stretching out his left arm like a spring. "Oh, oopsies." One ruffling of fabric later, and the man was wrenched forward. "Sorry, Mr. 'lijah sir. I didn't mean to do that, it's just that, well— I see a textile store over there, and I wanna see what they got." With that, the two of them headed in, though Caleb's arm had become a loose, spiraling affair of ribbons and fabric rather than a proper limb clutching onto his chaperone's arm. Noticing this, he slipped it off and reformed his arm.
Posted:
Sun Jul 19, 2020 11:35 amby Danceria
Phaerix, Noble District
En route to the Palace
With that, there was silence among the Dunseron...save for the Viscount, who’s purple eyes shimmered slightly.
“
Dracar.” he hissed, his Dwarven companion looked up in concern. “Bound of Blood. Not of Old Valkarth. Coming here.”
“Ye certain?” Came the she-dwarf’s hushed inquiry, and the pale haired man nodded.
“The Dragon’s called here. There
must be a dragonrider here.” the Viscount explained. “...You know what my father said. Dragons and their riders always find one another.”
A pause before the Princess continued. “...Do you think there will be conflict, with th’ Princeps sweet talkin’ the Phaenixians into throwin’ us out?”
“I don’t know…” Galon sighed, looking up to the towers of the palace, open windows. His intuition told him that the other dragonrider was as much a guest as he was. While the group marched on, Sea-Cat looked up, and bristled. Something was coming for her, something similar to her was arriving, something similar to her master resided in the palace. But alas, she was issued a command, and while lazily basking in the sun, she tried to keep her mind off her own restlessness.
Posted:
Sun Jul 19, 2020 12:27 pmby Notalien
"Suggestion: Turn on stealth mode."
Diplomat Sxdevik-Lhsdam looked back at the technician behind him.
"Responsive Statement: Elaborate on the details of your suggestion."
"Observational Response: The Primitives are showing all of the biological signs of surprise, fright and panic. Causing such distress within the local population is not within our mission parameters. Suggestion: We turn on the Universal Transport Vehicles stealth functions and fly invisibly to The Primitive's control center."
"Inquiry: Is it probable that turning on The Universal Transport Vehicle's stealth function would cause more panic among the primitives?"
"Response: Affirmative. Observation: The Primitives are unlikely to be familiar with our appearence. Hypothesis: We may frighten the primitives if they are to see us. Which may activate their flight or fight response. Observation: For the mission we are to try to avoid the death of The Primitives. Suggestion: To lower the chances of a fight-response within the Primitives causing their possible deaths. We instead fly to The Primitive control center and broadcast our presence before we land."
The Diplomat thought over The Technicians suggestion, then said
"Affirmative Response: Diplomat Sxdevik-Lhsdam agrees with your suggestion. Order: Pilot Zvbohig-Rsfwan, turn on The Universal Transport Vehicle's stealth function and fly to The Primitive Control Center."
And thus the strange ship disappeared.
Posted:
Sun Jul 19, 2020 2:29 pmby Kalmarnavia
Alegeharia wrote:It was agreed upon that Aither would stay with Vin in their quarters as Malik went off to find the Emperor. Malik waved to his family as he stepped back out into the hallway of the rooms and followed his ears to each source of sound. Sometimes finding himself interrupting slaves or other workers, he finally finds himself where an important conversation was taking place, he stayed in the shadows using his shadow magic to conceal himself more as he approached slowly scanning the person talking in the hallway, relieved he dropped the shadowed haze from himself walking normally now waving at the conversationalists. “Ahoy good sirs! Pray tell what happened?! Or rather, do you guys know it was not me that caused such a death? I cannot believe such a thing would occur. Its truly tragic…”
Arge looked at the beast-king, and raised a hand in salute.
"Well met, Your Highness. We had heard malicious rumours had been spread, and riots occurred, but I imagine if there was any truth you would occupy a dungeon cell at the Emperor's pleasure and not be here. I hope your companions are safe?"
Dontas spied an open door to what looked like a solar, and spotted great decanters of wine. He hurried to approach a male slave outside.
"Good sir, pray tell- are the Emperor's guests permitted to engage in the consumption of the wine in this room? The Prince is understandably shaken by events and could use some calming."
The slave, obviously completely taken aback at being spoken to in this way, stammered an answer.
"Ye-yes ser, but of course ser, through here ser. I shall have word passed on that you are in the lounge here to his Majesty. I believe the Arch-Magi requested this be set as a communal area for guests..."
Dontas smiled broadly, and beckoned the Argalaic.
"Will you join us, King Malik? I hope you are of age to consume such beverages? I trust your companions and the other guests will find us shortly."
Posted:
Sun Jul 19, 2020 2:47 pmby Alegeharia
Kalmarnavia wrote:Alegeharia wrote:It was agreed upon that Aither would stay with Vin in their quarters as Malik went off to find the Emperor. Malik waved to his family as he stepped back out into the hallway of the rooms and followed his ears to each source of sound. Sometimes finding himself interrupting slaves or other workers, he finally finds himself where an important conversation was taking place, he stayed in the shadows using his shadow magic to conceal himself more as he approached slowly scanning the person talking in the hallway, relieved he dropped the shadowed haze from himself walking normally now waving at the conversationalists. “Ahoy good sirs! Pray tell what happened?! Or rather, do you guys know it was not me that caused such a death? I cannot believe such a thing would occur. Its truly tragic…”
Arge looked at the beast-king, and raised a hand in salute.
"Well met, Your Highness. We had heard malicious rumours had been spread, and riots occurred, but I imagine if there was any truth you would occupy a dungeon cell at the Emperor's pleasure and not be here. I hope your companions are safe?"
Dontas spied an open door to what looked like a solar, and spotted great decanters of wine. He hurried to approach a male slave outside.
"Good sir, pray tell- are the Emperor's guests permitted to engage in the consumption of the wine in this room? The Prince is understandably shaken by events and could use some calming."
The slave, obviously completely taken aback at being spoken to in this way, stammered an answer.
"Ye-yes ser, but of course ser, through here ser. I shall have word passed on that you are in the lounge here to his Majesty. I believe the Arch-Magi requested this be set as a communal area for guests..."
Dontas smiled broadly, and beckoned the Argalaic.
"Will you join us, King Malik? I hope you are of age to consume such beverages? I trust your companions and the other guests will find us shortly."
“Malik sighs and shakes his head; I am only 8 good sirs. I cannot take in the drinks, my companions will be staying in our room, it is the better this way for now. With everything going on I think it is better if travelled on my own; my dear brother has a bit of an “itch” with that sword and bow of his.” At least that is what they thought they agreed too, a little surprised to see Aither walk in. “What are you doing here? What of Vin?”“I had him use his emergency amulet function for safe passage back home.” How convenient Malik thought and rolled his eyes. “Asides,” Aither added; “It its better this way since he is not skilled in combat like us.” Malik sighed knowing Aither was right and nodded. Aither turned to the other royals and smiled. It is a pleasure to see you both again, though I wish in better in circumstance hmm?”
Posted:
Sun Jul 19, 2020 2:57 pmby Kalmarnavia
Alegeharia wrote:Kalmarnavia wrote:Arge looked at the beast-king, and raised a hand in salute.
"Well met, Your Highness. We had heard malicious rumours had been spread, and riots occurred, but I imagine if there was any truth you would occupy a dungeon cell at the Emperor's pleasure and not be here. I hope your companions are safe?"
Dontas spied an open door to what looked like a solar, and spotted great decanters of wine. He hurried to approach a male slave outside.
"Good sir, pray tell- are the Emperor's guests permitted to engage in the consumption of the wine in this room? The Prince is understandably shaken by events and could use some calming."
The slave, obviously completely taken aback at being spoken to in this way, stammered an answer.
"Ye-yes ser, but of course ser, through here ser. I shall have word passed on that you are in the lounge here to his Majesty. I believe the Arch-Magi requested this be set as a communal area for guests..."
Dontas smiled broadly, and beckoned the Argalaic.
"Will you join us, King Malik? I hope you are of age to consume such beverages? I trust your companions and the other guests will find us shortly."
“Malik sighs and shakes his head; I am only 8 good sirs. I cannot take in the drinks, my companions will be staying in our room, it is the better this way for now. With everything going on I think it is better if travelled on my own; my dear brother has a bit of an “itch” with that sword and bow of his.” At least that is what they thought they agreed too, a little surprised to see Aither walk in. “What are you doing here? What of Vin?”“I had him use his emergency amulet function for safe passage back home.” How convenient Malik thought and rolled his eyes. “Asides,” Aither added; “It its better this way since he is not skilled in combat like us.” Malik sighed knowing Aither was right and nodded. Aither turned to the other royals and smiled. It is a pleasure to see you both again, though I wish in better in circumstance hmm?”
Dontas laughed at the mention of combat.
"Forgive my laughter, good ser, but I would very much like to hear tales of your experiences in combat- purely as, and I hope you forgive me, I imagine your fights may be different to ours. I and His Grace have stories of our own, taking on those accursed pirates of the Shivering Sea only a few short years ago."
Agralaic followed behind King Malik and his brother into the room.
"Ah yes, but again Ser Dontas our experiences were different still. You on ship and land, I and my dear cousin Makar in the air on dragonback. Oh, how magnificently Styrax and Mermadin fought in those days. If you are unable to partake in wine, King Malik, I am sure we can source another beverage. Ser Jace shall watch the door, and none save those permitted shall enter on his watch."
He beckoned over a middle aged looking female slave.
"My good woman, would you please fetch some water, various fruit juices, cheese, bread, some cooked and cured meats and the like? I am slightly hungry, and I imagine my fellow guests are too."
The slave, much like the others who had been spoken to by Argalaic, looked shocked at being addressed so cordially and hurried off to her task.
Argalaic sat in a comfy looking chair, and poured a wine.
"So, King Malik, what tales do your companions have of warfare and swordfights?"
Posted:
Sun Jul 19, 2020 3:57 pmby Alegeharia
Kalmarnavia wrote:Alegeharia wrote:“Malik sighs and shakes his head; I am only 8 good sirs. I cannot take in the drinks, my companions will be staying in our room, it is the better this way for now. With everything going on I think it is better if travelled on my own; my dear brother has a bit of an “itch” with that sword and bow of his.” At least that is what they thought they agreed too, a little surprised to see Aither walk in. “What are you doing here? What of Vin?”“I had him use his emergency amulet function for safe passage back home.” How convenient Malik thought and rolled his eyes. “Asides,” Aither added; “It its better this way since he is not skilled in combat like us.” Malik sighed knowing Aither was right and nodded. Aither turned to the other royals and smiled. It is a pleasure to see you both again, though I wish in better in circumstance hmm?”
Dontas laughed at the mention of combat.
"Forgive my laughter, good ser, but I would very much like to hear tales of your experiences in combat- purely as, and I hope you forgive me, I imagine your fights may be different to ours. I and His Grace have stories of our own, taking on those accursed pirates of the Shivering Sea only a few short years ago."
Agralaic followed behind King Malik and his brother into the room.
"Ah yes, but again Ser Dontas our experiences were different still. You on ship and land, I and my dear cousin Makar in the air on dragonback. Oh, how magnificently Styrax and Mermadin fought in those days. If you are unable to partake in wine, King Malik, I am sure we can source another beverage. Ser Jace shall watch the door, and none save those permitted shall enter on his watch."
He beckoned over a middle aged looking female slave.
"My good woman, would you please fetch some water, various fruit juices, cheese, bread, some cooked and cured meats and the like? I am slightly hungry, and I imagine my fellow guests are too."
The slave, much like the others who had been spoken to by Argalaic, looked shocked at being addressed so cordially and hurried off to her task.
Argalaic sat in a comfy looking chair, and poured a wine.
"So, King Malik, what tales do your companions have of warfare and swordfights?"
Malik flopped onto a chair next to Argalaic, he laid back in a very seemingly unprofessional manner. Here it becomes apparent how much different his body was of a human, as he folded a leg it was very apparent the boot and pants outlined legs commonly seen on dogs. Malik sighed and giggled softly. “perhaps more than my own years. Though what is a year to a dragon, or an angel?” time is hard to measure, I don’t know why anyone bothers stalking it.” He kicks his legs idly; a puppy is still a puppy after all, as he watches the servants walk about. “Indentured or not, its nice to see another person treat them with humanity.” He churred in content comfy. I suppose you have some obvious questions, come now!” He giggled again and sat up some. “Ask away, you shall learn I am a very relaxed person. Some call my views to nobility… “Controversial”.Aither nodded and joined Dontas over to one side of the room. “I suppose so! Though, perhaps, maybe not too much. Our fights usually deal in magic, subterfuge, scouting, and sometimes the outright absurd. I recall this one time, Thorik had to pick up a drunk dwarf and use him as the barrels cork!” He chuckled before resuming. “Though that was on his off day.
Posted:
Sun Jul 19, 2020 4:33 pmby Kalmarnavia
Alegeharia wrote:Kalmarnavia wrote:Dontas laughed at the mention of combat.
"Forgive my laughter, good ser, but I would very much like to hear tales of your experiences in combat- purely as, and I hope you forgive me, I imagine your fights may be different to ours. I and His Grace have stories of our own, taking on those accursed pirates of the Shivering Sea only a few short years ago."
Agralaic followed behind King Malik and his brother into the room.
"Ah yes, but again Ser Dontas our experiences were different still. You on ship and land, I and my dear cousin Makar in the air on dragonback. Oh, how magnificently Styrax and Mermadin fought in those days. If you are unable to partake in wine, King Malik, I am sure we can source another beverage. Ser Jace shall watch the door, and none save those permitted shall enter on his watch."
He beckoned over a middle aged looking female slave.
"My good woman, would you please fetch some water, various fruit juices, cheese, bread, some cooked and cured meats and the like? I am slightly hungry, and I imagine my fellow guests are too."
The slave, much like the others who had been spoken to by Argalaic, looked shocked at being addressed so cordially and hurried off to her task.
Argalaic sat in a comfy looking chair, and poured a wine.
"So, King Malik, what tales do your companions have of warfare and swordfights?"
Malik flopped onto a chair next to Argalaic, he laid back in a very seemingly unprofessional manner. Here it becomes apparent how much different his body was of a human, as he folded a leg it was very apparent the boot and pants outlined legs commonly seen on dogs. Malik sighed and giggled softly. “perhaps more than my own years. Though what is a year to a dragon, or an angel?” time is hard to measure, I don’t know why anyone bothers stalking it.” He kicks his legs idly; a puppy is still a puppy after all, as he watches the servants walk about. “Indentured or not, its nice to see another person treat them with humanity.” He churred in content comfy. I suppose you have some obvious questions, come now!” He giggled again and sat up some. “Ask away, you shall learn I am a very relaxed person. Some call my views to nobility… “Controversial”.Aither nodded and joined Dontas over to one side of the room. “I suppose so! Though, perhaps, maybe not too much. Our fights usually deal in magic, subterfuge, scouting, and sometimes the outright absurd. I recall this one time, Thorik had to pick up a drunk dwarf and use him as the barrels cork!” He chuckled before resuming. “Though that was on his off day.
Argalaic laughed long and hard.
"Ah King Malik, would that I could so candidly talk and ask questions of you. But alas, I am a mere Prince, a second son, and I have been too well schooled in who answers my questions and who I question and who I do not. My father would curse my impudence if he were here and caught me prying too deeply. But, if you were to happen to talk in general about life in your kingdom and your people, I would surely listen."
Across the room, Ser Dontas nodded sagely.
"Less magic has been at use in our wars of late, and spying was absent totally when fighting those damned pirates. A clan of them had seized a sizeable whaling town on the west coast of Islandia, and the army there under Lord Harold Knarlson- the Knarlsons rule the island through their vassals on behalf of the King- was close to twenty thousand strong but couldn't break the siege by land or sea. I was part of the reinforcements sent by the King, while Argalaic and Prince Makar came of their own accord. A dragon had not been unleashed in a full battle in a hundred years, and they had two...it was monstrous, truly. The option was a protracted siege, house to house street to street battling...or the dragons. Dragonfire is a special weapon, ser. When Styrax and Mermadin unleashed their fury, the town burned. It's being rebuilt, and the battle was won...but sometimes, just sometimes, I hear the noise of it all. The screams, even though I was more than four miles way. It was truly, truly haunting."
Posted:
Sun Jul 19, 2020 5:14 pmby Alegeharia
Kalmarnavia wrote:Alegeharia wrote:Malik flopped onto a chair next to Argalaic, he laid back in a very seemingly unprofessional manner. Here it becomes apparent how much different his body was of a human, as he folded a leg it was very apparent the boot and pants outlined legs commonly seen on dogs. Malik sighed and giggled softly. “perhaps more than my own years. Though what is a year to a dragon, or an angel?” time is hard to measure, I don’t know why anyone bothers stalking it.” He kicks his legs idly; a puppy is still a puppy after all, as he watches the servants walk about. “Indentured or not, its nice to see another person treat them with humanity.” He churred in content comfy. I suppose you have some obvious questions, come now!” He giggled again and sat up some. “Ask away, you shall learn I am a very relaxed person. Some call my views to nobility… “Controversial”.Aither nodded and joined Dontas over to one side of the room. “I suppose so! Though, perhaps, maybe not too much. Our fights usually deal in magic, subterfuge, scouting, and sometimes the outright absurd. I recall this one time, Thorik had to pick up a drunk dwarf and use him as the barrels cork!” He chuckled before resuming. “Though that was on his off day.
Argalaic laughed long and hard.
"Ah King Malik, would that I could so candidly talk and ask questions of you. But alas, I am a mere Prince, a second son, and I have been too well schooled in who answers my questions and who I question and who I do not. My father would curse my impudence if he were here and caught me prying too deeply. But, if you were to happen to talk in general about life in your kingdom and your people, I would surely listen."
Across the room, Ser Dontas nodded sagely.
"Less magic has been at use in our wars of late, and spying was absent totally when fighting those damned pirates. A clan of them had seized a sizeable whaling town on the west coast of Islandia, and the army there under Lord Harold Knarlson- the Knarlsons rule the island through their vassals on behalf of the King- was close to twenty thousand strong but couldn't break the siege by land or sea. I was part of the reinforcements sent by the King, while Argalaic and Prince Makar came of their own accord. A dragon had not been unleashed in a full battle in a hundred years, and they had two...it was monstrous, truly. The option was a protracted siege, house to house street to street battling...or the dragons. Dragonfire is a special weapon, ser. When Styrax and Mermadin unleashed their fury, the town burned. It's being rebuilt, and the battle was won...but sometimes, just sometimes, I hear the noise of it all. The screams, even though I was more than four miles way. It was truly, truly haunting."
Malik:
Aither:
Posted:
Sun Jul 19, 2020 5:56 pmby Omegaopterix
"E-excuse me, sir, you cannot enter here, th-this is a crime scene." The guard was doing his best to sound authoritative, but the sight of the monstrously tall, inhuman warrior made him quake. Kraxhor stalked through the blood of the slain rioters like a predator trying to catch the smell of wounded prey.
"The one who unleashed such carnage in broad daylight should be commended," said Kraxhor. "To slay in the sight of all is a sign of one being branded by the mark of the primordial truth. Tell me, soldier, who was the dark visionary of this act?"
"W-well, it's not quite as simple as you say. Rioters began to attack the gates and the guards had to open fire for their safety and for the safety of the nobles and royal family. It was a regrettable necessity." The guard was under no obligation to tell Kraxhor to tell any of this, but the malignant, unearthly aura Kraxhor gave off had the tendency to loosen tongues for fear of retribution, often a fear that back in Omegaopterix was all too real. At the same time, the other guards were busy holding off curious onlookers who had come to investigate after the violence had subsided.
"You will be my escort to the palace," replied Kraxhor, in a tone that brooked no dissent. "Once I am there, you will notify whoever is receiving the guest that I have arrived. Then you will return to your post. If you are needed further, you will be contacted."
"Yes, my lord," said the guardsman, now completely under the Zixian's power. The guard went ahead of Kraxhor, who followed closely behind. Strangely enough, hardly any blood could be seen in the Warlord's foot prints, as if the armor had completely absorbed it.
Posted:
Mon Jul 20, 2020 5:52 pmby SF n F
The smirk had never left Danmage's face.
First, at the shoreline, there had been the spies. When Damnage had landed on the shore, they must have seen him. But they weren't happy! You would think that two grown men who had come all the way from wherever they had come from just to sneak up onto the shore would be happier to find comradship...but it was almost as if they wanted to dispatch any witness to their skillful deed! They tried to whiff crossbow bolts into him, as if they had never had any company before. Of course, Damnage was former Underworld Infantry, and easily pulled away from the shots, but he had to give them credit for their efforts.
Damnage knew the solution to their problem, though. They needed a friend, so he just made one for them! Mind you, she didn't really exist, but Auntie Bertha looked, felt and, most importantly, smelled just like the real thing. 400 pounds of bespectacled love muffin, just waiting to show them all the love that an illusion could.
Damnage wasn't sure, but he thought that even then he could still hear a rough voice with a slavic accent going "DAHLINK!" followed by a distant
KASMOOTCH!"
That mustache of hers would be keeping them--and the palace guards who would by now be watching them--busy for hours.
Then, after Damnage had switched to 'noid form, there was the pickpocket who thought he could make easy work of the foreigner. To the rest of the world, it looked like the foreigner just walked into an alley and didn't walk back out. In that part of town, no one cared. Actually, the foreigner had been an illusion and Damnage was following the pickpocket, invisible.
Damnage didn't do anything to the kid. Just followed him up to his master, watched his change purse get passed on, and kept on following...right back to the main hall where all the food was. With a long, hollow tongue, Damnage made sure it didn't last long...and even recovered most of the change. Just for fun, the Demon made sure that half the schmuck's congregation saw him walk out the front door. And they saw him cast an illusion over a small pile of horse dung that was there on the street. It wasn't long before the head pimp came out of the door, saw the turned demon and got the most confusing, enraged look on his face. After that, it wasn't long before he had the most confused look on his face as he lie in the middle of a pile of horse dung that had somehow managed to appear just after...he slipped on it running after Damnage. Damnage waved.
It had been an interesting few hours. Bad guys found, fun had, but no one killed or injured. The Brotherhood would find something to complain about, but basically he was doing right by them. All he had to do now was keep going down the path.
Posted:
Mon Jul 20, 2020 6:10 pmby Notalien
Over The Imperial Palace
The UTV hovers above the Primitive's control center. Unseen and undetected it seems. At least for now.
"Inquiry: Should we land or should we stay in the air and we beam the Diplomatic team down?"
"Response: I recommend doing a scan of the Primitive's control center first."
"Informational Response: This will be difficult. This planet has a heavy amount of Phsycic energy that interferes with such systems.
"Response: I am aware of this. I would like you to try to get a scan anyway."
Posted:
Tue Jul 21, 2020 3:17 pmby SF n F
If they saw him, they'd start to scream. Then they'd make up stories where he was a nice little boy. THEN they'd start trying to pat him on the head with spiked, blunt objects. Happened every time.
The Sublime Domain had assigned him to watch over a Royal Wedding, equipped him with diplomatic papers and a bottomless change purse--standard issue stuff--and set him loose. They weren't big on ceremony these days.
He could always put on his 'noid form--he was, after all, one of the most awesome illusionists the world had ever seen--but it got tiresome after a while. In fact, if he did it for too long, it drained his mojo.
So he mostly just stayed out of sight. Travel by night, when he could stretch out his wings and pop over from one building to another, no prying eyes to worry about. Red gargoyles were high-performance fliers. Their metabolism was designed to give bursts of energy to make those tight turns and fancy maneuvers, but they tired quickly. That was why Damnage hopped between buildings instead of trying to fly over the entire city. Given the uphill slope, he doubted he could make it.
So Damnage was in midair between two buildings in the merchant district when it all started. It seemed innocent enough. An empty metal pot fell out of a window and a little girl screamed. And...since he was in the air...ea anyway, Damnage just thought he'd do the little girl a favor.
It took no time at all for the demon to shift into a power dive, grab the pot out of the air, pull up and take it back to the window it had fallen from. It was simple. When he got back to the window was when things became a little more complex.
As he sank the talons on his feet into the windowsill, he noticed that there were two darkly-dressed male 'noids in the room with the female one--one holding something over her face in front and one holding her arms from behind. Her blonde hair waved as she struggled. This was adorably unfair! She wasn't even into puberty yet and they were twice her size. But it was also unforgivable! They were having a kidnapping party and they didn't invite him!
So the first thing he did was pitch the pot back out the window. He wasn't just going to crash this party, he was going to give new meaning to the term!
And the second thing he did was snap into character. Some illusions don't take any mojo at all. With a smile that could chill molten lead, wings spread wide, he looked at the two thugs, smacked his lips and said, "Oooo. For me? How...appetizing! I bet she'd make a great sandwich!" The idea, of course, was that they would mistake him for an unturned member of his species and abandon the scene. The fact that, unbeknownst to him, the girl was still conscious and heard him too wasn't particularly relevant when he noticed it. More important was that he managed to get the attention of both of the black-clad miscreants so completely that they even ignored the loud CLANG! outside the window. For a moment.
Damnage couldn't help but chuckle at the young lady(?)'s smile as her knee came straight up and taught the one in front of her why he needed to pay attention to...other things. And when they dropped her and high-tailed it out the door, Damnage was certain to move just slowly enough so that they made it...
...which left him with a female 'noid that had just done what every female 'noid wants to and was getting her knees ready for a second taste standing between himself and the nearest window. Never mind that he was five times as strong and two or three as quick as she was. Those knees were getting hungry...
"I don't suppose we could talk about this...?" he began as she slid along the nearest wall.
"Nope," she said, reaching down and picking up some sort of religious symbol. "Go back to--."
"Ummm--that stuff doesn't work on me. For that, I'd have to be evil, but I'm turned."
"You said you were gonna make a sandwich out of me."
"I was bluffing! I don't eat bread!" By then Damnage could hear the sounds of footsteps on the stairs outside of the little room where they were standing. He estimated that he had about 15 seconds before the place was swarming with morons who thought they were doing the right thing.
She just put her little 'noid hands on her hips.
"Sorry," the undemon said, "out of time." And he let loose his illusion of last resort--the skin of self. He didn't just turn invisible, he made a false image of himself and let it draw her away. It lunged for the door, and, as it did, her little fingers went for something that he never wanted them to get anywhere near. As the little hands closed on their targets, the image just disappeared--allowing him to reappear on the way out of the window. As the first of her 'noid "protectors" came through the door. He looked back.
"Greedygreedygreedy," he said, and, wings spread, he jumped out of the window.
And she started to scream.
Posted:
Tue Jul 21, 2020 8:38 pmby Notalien
Above The Palace
The UTC's scanners continue to try and get a scan of The Primitive's control center. 20 minutes go by.
"Statement: Turn the scanners off, we aren't getting anything useful."
"Inquiry: Do you ever feel like you are being watched?"
The Diplomat turns to The General, this is the first time they've spoken for the entire mission.
"Response: When I see someone watching me, I then feel like I am being watched."
"Response: What about when you are unable to see anyone watching you?"
"Response: In that circumstance, I do not feel like I am being watched."
"Response: It might be a skill you should learn."
"Suggestive Response: You should meet with a mental-health specialist when we get back."
The General says nothing, but they see everything.
Posted:
Wed Jul 22, 2020 2:25 pmby Phaenix
Shwe Tu Colony wrote:Merchant DistrictClack. Clack. Clack.It was hard to hear above the clashing merchants and profiteering dialogue, but there was a clack of boots and an umbrella like a cappuccino cake on the floor, sounds that felt exotic. The source of them was a young man dressed in a dim gray suit, boots, hat, and pants. There was more vibrancy to him, however — at the ends of his legs and sleeves were cream-colored ends, pinned in by his buttons, and at the brim of his top hat were three white roses, each smaller than the one adjacent and each seemingly
breathing, waving up and down, pulsating in and out. Beneath his hat were locks of pale blonde hair, and at his chest was a dull ruby-like gem. Certainly, his attire was luxurious, but his hurried pace and absent-minded smile indicated that he was not likely to be one for neither conversation nor buying.
Next to him was something else.
It was a lanky figure about the height of a preteen boy, and whereas the man's steps were audible and clear, the thing made no sound. Pieces of fabric, ribbon, and string waved out behind him and... was that unrefined cotton? He was like a child's stuffed doll that had been poorly treated and sliced upon along its arm, which was bare white, exposed a great deal of puff, and seemed to be connected to his waist. For the rest of him, bits and pieces of fabric floated off of him, came back, then floated off again. Seams of his bluish robes ripped subtly and exposed a white oblivion, then regenerated back, and just what were those strange devices on his left arm? One, just beneath a small hole in his neck, had a crank that took occasional cotton pieces from that hole, moved, and spat out a piece of cotton and cottonseed, and the other was a hooked apparatus with various knobs that ended with a needle-like point.
His legs were equally as strange: one consisted of black and purple diamonds, with pieces of frayed violet fabric flying in the wind. The other was little more than wrappings of blue, purple, and red; one could even see four exposed columns of metal, as though the figure planned to add more to his textile display of a limb. At his waist were four spools: white, purple, red, blue, and occasionally the tattered purple-gloved left hand fiddled with them and drew out a string, then returned it.
Behind him flew four red ribbons, but these ones flew in irregular ways, acting like curious snakes scenting the air more so than appendages, and at his white chest was a crystal of that same red color, which pulsated every now and then with light.
Stranger still was his
shattered mask, somewhat covered by his irregular hair that had a bulb of cotton growing behind it and a sort of black sailor's cap. The most striking detail was that there was no left eye; there were only cracks leading into it. His right eye, if it could be called an eye, was little more than a hole in a mask-like expression, and peering forth from it was a trembling orange sphere.
"Now, Caleb, do you remember what I said before we came here?" The man spoke as though the little thing beside him was a dear child, and there was a sort of timbre to his speech that gave him a trustworthy aura.
"Don't fractalize, touch, tear apart, or spontaneously mend people and their clothes, I got it," he said, hopping a little and giving a sort of salute with a loose arm as he ran with his chaperone. His voice was completely normal, perhaps even cute, as it had the youthful vigor of a young lad dashing through the fields without a care in the world. "I won't disappoint you, Mr. 'lijah."
"Good, good." The man's hand patted the cap, which floated briefly at the touch before falling back down onto Caleb's head. "This will be your first time beyond our little city. You'll have to be careful, understand?"
"Yes, Mr.' lijah." He nodded. "So what're we planning to do today?"
A beat. "Truth be told, I can't be sure if we were invited to the main affair or not, only that we ended up here."
"That is weird, Mr. 'lijah. Do you think we should call back?"
"I already did. They said we're free to stick around if we want to, especially since you need to get used to other folks." He took out an ID card to show Caleb. "Besides, I don't think we'll be in much danger, anyhow, so long as we stay away from their 'Umbra District.' If anyone asks, we'll just introduce yourself, that's all — no reason to fault us after. Just try not to do anything weird while I get us sorted out, if things do turn out that way."
"Okay, Mr.' lijah sir, I'll do my best." He gave another hop and salute. "So, whaddya wanna— oh, do you see that?" The boy dashed forward, stretching out his left arm like a spring. "Oh, oopsies." One ruffling of fabric later, and the man was wrenched forward. "Sorry, Mr. 'lijah sir. I didn't mean to do that, it's just that, well— I see a
textile store over there, and I wanna see what they got." With that, the two of them headed in, though Caleb's arm had become a loose, spiraling affair of ribbons and fabric rather than a proper limb clutching onto his chaperone's arm. Noticing this, he slipped it off and reformed his arm.
Phaerix, Merchant District
Centurion Coruncanius Agorix was leaning on his rifle, half asleep, when a frightened merchant ran up to him.
"A construct! A construct's loose in the Bazaar!"
Agorix immediately shot a red flare into the sky, the signal to all nearby patrols to converge on him. Luckily for Agorix, one of those patrols had a magus with them. After interrogating the merchant on the construct's appearance and how it acted, the seven legionaries and the magus marched to the textile shop the construct and its handler had entered. With the legionaries rifles pointed at the door, Agorix shouted.
"In the name of the Emperor, whoever has had the gall to parade an unlicensed construct through the District, come out now! Do not force us to burn that shop to the ground with you inside it!"
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Meanwhile, in the textiles shop, before the legionaries appeared, the shopkeeper was lazily looking over a manifest of his latest shipments. With the foreign merchantman in the harbor, few people had entered his shop, so when he heard his door open, he looked up and began to speak.
"Welcome to Caeeina's Textile and Mercantile, how may I-"
He stopped short once he saw what had entered his shop. He screamed and fell backwards.
"P-please, don't hurt me! Take whatever you want just please don't hurt me!"