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A general roleplay guild with emphasis on improving RPers. 

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Giyari

Shirtless Ladykiller

PostPosted: Tue Mar 27, 2012 4:26 pm


Alice
The door looked weird, slightly untrustworthy, like it hadn't been maintained because it was hardly used. However Alice didn't care much, for one she was too naive to take any of that into consideration at all, but there was something.
"Ghee drah fyrdoh? Wizard..." She murmured looking down towards Bill. Did she want him to go in herself? Bill don't look like he could open the door anyway, but she couldn't open it for him either. She stopped for a moment and floated around in front of the doors peeling wood. Would this be the time for them to part ways? Alice didn't really want to go on alone, but it seemed that Bill wanted her to proceed. Maybe he would find another way in.

Breaking her eyes from the paint curling off the door, Alice gave a look over her slender shoulder towards her companion. Her face had lost a little of its wonder, now looking a little confused and anxious. Her sash twisted carefully with her body as Alice turned back to head through the door, however the end trailing off down to her foot was swishing around with what seemed like apprehension or worry, whatever it was Alice knew she didn't feel as confident anymore.
PostPosted: Tue Mar 27, 2012 10:11 pm


Quintus' smile continued unabated. Time for another pressure on the boundaries. He didn't distance himself, but he didn't let her get any closer than arm's length, and slowly he offered a gloved hand. It wasn't a stated challenge, but he hoped the message was clear: Show me your power. What you can do one way, you can do another. If not, well, she could move closer now. He'd allow it. This once. His point had been made; resistance had to be slow, careful, and considered.

SirBayer


umbraja
Crew

PostPosted: Wed Mar 28, 2012 9:32 am


“You still resist,” the woman pouted as she took the man's hand in hers, wrapping chill fingers around his palm and wrist as she stepped in closer, uncomfortably close. “My champions must give all of themselves to me. Willingly,” she purred leaning in and pulling his hand around her to lay his palm on the soft skin of her hip, cold as her hands though supple. “But you. . .” she trailed off to bring one hand up his arm, over his shoulder, to tangle cold fingers in his hair. “You have doubts,” she stood up on her toes to breathe it in his ear. “You do not trust me,” her cold breath tickled his neck as she pressed herself against him wantonly. “You think you can resist,” there was something mocking in her tone now as she wrapped one arm around his back to hold him. Quintus felt a chill run down his spine at the touch and found himself paralyzed, unable to speak or move as the woman leaned into him.

“Every time,” she drawled slightly as her hand moved teasingly down from his hair, over his collarbone, to rest against his chest between them. “Every time,” she repeated as she traced the unseen line of that phantom wound Quintus had felt in the strange desert's spectral snow. “You think you can resist me,” she purred turning deep violet eyes up to smile coyly at him. “Your friend is gone,” she breathed, “He gave himself to me completely. Twice,” she paused with a gloating smile then leaned in closer again to breathe in his ear once more. “His mind is already rotting this time,” she pressed sharp nails against the phantom wound and Quintus felt it, that deep pain from the snow, the clicking breath of a blood filled lung. “Just a matter of time,” the woman purred against his neck as she leaned in then pressed ruby lips against the soft flesh where his neck and shoulder met.

And here it was, what Quintus had been looking for – the crack in her honey promises had become a chasm. Then his strange companion convulsed in sudden pain. The man's desperate scream ripped the still silence of the ancient halls as he collapsed to his knees, shaking and blubbering now. Mad gibberish mumbled between screams and panicked cries from the merchant as a crashing tide of memory and experience from uncounted millions suddenly ravaged Quintus's conscious and sparked some latent fire inside to sear his veins.

He heard the woman laughing as she stepped away from him - the last thing he heard before falling into that same nothing that brought them there. That strange flood of knowledge that had rushed through both men, the fire in Quintus's veins, the cold chaos in Sam's mind slowly faded like dreams, blurred like images under water as they too began to yield in the nothing. It was consuming but soft, like bleeding out - a slow and gentle pain. They drifted away in it. And then.

Slowly, consciousness replaced the shadows of forgotten memories from an idle mind. Feeling came back to numb limbs. It was cold. And dry. There was the feel of something gritty under them - sand. They were laying on cold sand. Hearing came second. It was quiet. Silent. A stillness rarely heard. Only the faint hush of a lazy breeze let them know they'd not gone deaf. Only the smell of distant spices let them know they weren't back in that empty desert. Opening their eyes the dunes that spread around them in the misty twilight were a gray tinted yellow but just as void of life as that distant, endless night.
PostPosted: Wed Mar 28, 2012 3:37 pm


Quintus slowly opened his eyes, staring up into the mists above. Facts scattered before him, things he felt were interesting and sometimes important, but impossible to remember, and getting further and further away by the second. Further resistance would have been useless, he supposed; in the end, this was actually what he wanted. Not precisely, but close enough. He was out of the... well, metaphors wouldn't do him any good here anyway.

As he sat up, he had a few choice words. "********' women." This was, he knew, a generalization, one that many women did not deserve, but he still felt it appropriate. Really it was more of a grouping, actually, separating '******** awful women' from 'women.' It was all just kind of whatever, in the end; his frustration and annoyance were fading, and he was back in the desert with the odd man. At least he probably had returned to the land of the sane, so they could... well, start dying in the desert ********' women."

SirBayer


Jikial

Distinct Hunter

PostPosted: Wed Mar 28, 2012 7:21 pm


Sam woke up as if in mid-scream and flailed about on the sand before realising he had very little idea where he was and what had just happened. All he knew was that he had a purpose and a name.

Find a key for Nammu.

Nammu.

The name echoed in is mind for a moment filled with conflicting thoughts of cold and warmth. And then his head hurt. And then his body convulsed. A sense of loss overcame him, loss of profundity, knowledge. He knew everything once, now he was...

And then his head stopped, his mind focused, and the merchant went over facts;
His name is Mad Sam.
He is sitting on sand.
He is important to Nammu and there is a key.
There is a man nearby, a man who talked too much, maybe.
He still has his bag.

Sam groaned. The smell of civilization drew to his noise and he acknowledged it briefly before picking himself off the ground with a weak sway. His legs locked up on him and to stop his fall forward he fell to his knees then hands. His head blurred and as it pulsed Sam wondered what would be his next move and when his disorientation would end.
PostPosted: Mon Apr 02, 2012 9:09 am


Both men were sore and still dazed, weak from the whatever had just happened to them. But their heads were clearing and the pain fading away. Sam still felt an empty chill deep in his chest, some hole that needed to be filled, and Quintus felt a painful burn where the woman's lips had graced his skin but at least they were alive and out of that strange prison.

Not that this was much better. The desert around the two lost men was an expansive and uncaring scrawl of gray-gold dunes but the sands didn't breathe on their own and this desert's breeze carried with it the smell of things: exotic spices and animal sweat, smoke, something floral, and most importantly – water. There was water somewhere near, somewhere over those dunes where, listening close, they could hear the sound of drums. Maybe they wouldn't die after all.

umbraja
Crew


umbraja
Crew

PostPosted: Mon Apr 02, 2012 9:14 am


Giyari
notification

The cat just watched her hesitation and spoke another, “Go on Alice, go see the Wizard,” as he sat lazily on the front steps of the rickety building. He simply stayed there as she passed through the faded door into the room beyond, and quite a beyond it was. Alice felt a strange tingle in passing through the door, a first for her to feel something from the outside world. Reality sparked and fizzled before her as she moved through the old wood and into something else, some bright and wondrous place, before passing through to the other side where she found a room much larger than what could have been in the building outside.

A high vaulted ceiling gave the place the look of a church but rows and rows of shelves made it more like a warehouse, a fancy library perhaps but the shelves held more than just books. There were all manner of things on the sturdy shelves; some just set there open, some in boxes, some in glass cases, some on stands, some even in cages. There was armor and jewelery, weapons and books, spices, plants, animal bones, and murky things in jars. There were bolts of cloth and rows of scrolls, staves and swords, fireworks, cogs, and gears, lumps of ore and faceted gems, statues and paintings, and photographs that moved. So many strange things even a more experienced person would be awed at the sight of this place, made all the more beautiful because Alice could see the true beauty of them all. Sparks and flickers, glittering glows and sucking voids swirled and twirled and burned around almost everything here. Magic. She was seeing magic for the first time.
PostPosted: Mon Apr 02, 2012 10:07 am


Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Venom3001
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The mottley group of strangers sat sharing drinks and food together, laughing and trading stories over the sturdy table of the Blackthorn Inn. Alex was friendly and generous, paying for the drinks and meals without question. He was especially attentive to Linda, gentlemanly like with the occasionally coy smile as he made sure her mug never went empty. All said it was a pleasant few hours rest after a long day's walk. The quiet mage's apprentice passed out on the table and Linda felt the sweet liberation of intoxication for the first time while Alex and Rüd talked of grand adventures.

It might have worked up into something even more fun, Linda had started to twitch and sway to the beat of a drum circle that had broken out in the back corner of the bar, but the revelries were interrupted by what sounded like a large explosion outside. The ground shook, toppling glasses off tables and drunks off barstools, catching the attention of everyone there. The rough clientele glanced between each other with curious concern while barmaids clutched their trays and looked frightened.

Mere seconds after the blast the doors burst open and Pango rushed in, fighting a few of the roughs rushing out but the youth was lithe and slipped through to bound breathlessly up to the table. “Somethin hit tha bay” Pango squeaked grabbing Alex's arm and giving him a tug.

umbraja
Crew


umbraja
Crew

PostPosted: Mon Apr 02, 2012 11:32 am


thegoodsamaritan
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Venom3001
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Fog still hung in the ancient forest, untouched and untroubled by what went on in the rest of the world. Even as the glowing trees' light began to fade and plunge the forest floor once again into a dull darkness of shaded twilight the forest remained as still and unchanged as ever. The tiny doings of mortal things left their marks – footprints and burns, the occasional wrecked shuttle pod – but in time the forest would reclaim them and the creatures that marred her would move on. Such was the way of ancient things. But today there had been more marks left than was usual and the forest stood silently watching, waiting to see if maybe these would be the end.

Deeper in the woods an old mage cursed the strange twist of fate that had brought him here and somehow made him young again. The forest around him of course offered no answer and no help as he drug himself out of the cold spring pool he'd nearly drowned in and flopped on the mossy banks beside a larger lake. Beautiful blue butterflies flitted about on the still air and the forest itself seemed to whisper some strange song as one by one the glowing trees faded around him to leave only the dim light of the outward sky to see by, and that was heavily shaded by the forest's thick canopy.

Fireflies and other, stranger, glowing things began to flit about, their reflections mirrored like stars on the lake's glassy surface. Castor could feel the magic of this place. It was almost painful in intensity and unlike anything he had ever known. He was so used to magic being contained, tightly tied to the beings that carried it but here, here the very air glowed with it, the water shimmered of power, and the trees sang of mysteries.

As the old boy-mage stared at this new world around him the placid surface of the mirrored lake rippled then suddenly boiled and spat out a gasping goblin, several yards into the deep water.
PostPosted: Mon Apr 02, 2012 3:13 pm



The stories were welcome, and Rüd was always more than happy to tell stories while inebriated- in fact, it was practically compulsory. He told them a couple brief tales about his first job: he was a bouncer for a nightclub on the surface of his homeworld. This later got him thinking about his time as a mercenary. With amusement he retold two stories: in the first, the team was hired to protect a wealthy man from a very 'avid' fan who genuinely believed they were in a relationship- hijinks ensued; in the other, he recounted their misadventures in Misshu space after quickly explaining that the Misshuvurthuyar are a tentacled and parasitic race hellbent in turning all other lifeforms into food or baby factories. In the end, he turned toward more random encounters: wooing a Nekovalkyrja- a cat-eared woman genetically engineered for war; meeting a very gung-ho man named Stromm who had a chin made of metal; and lastly a fistfight with the Neko mentioned two stories prior. For what it's worth he won, despite her many advantages- like manipulating her own gravity.

Rüd rose to his feet when he felt the explosion- at least, he could have sworn it was an explosion. If it wasn't an explosion, something very, VERY BIG had just touched down in not the gentlest way possible. Pango confirmed as much, which meant there was little time to lose. He pushed toward the door with most of the others, curious and more than a little concerned. If something had struck in the bay that hard it had to be bigger than he originally thought- probably far larger than the YSS Genesis. That wasn't a good thing, either.

Mr. Blackbird Lore

Dapper Codger


thegoodsamaritan

Dapper Prophet

PostPosted: Mon Apr 02, 2012 4:12 pm


Joy. Ecstasy. Power. Whatever Shard this was, it was unlike any Castor had ever experienced. Everything was so much more... alive. Everything- everything- thrummed with power. Hells, even the air had power in it. Castor blinked lazily as his senses tried to accomodate this new rush of information, but the sensations of energy and life were almost painful in their intensity. There was no describing this experience, for how did one explain what shoud not exist? So much... so much...

Which, of course, only served to sour the mage's already sour mood, as it was yet another reminder of the atrocity that this Shard had committed upon him. He looked at his hands- his perfect, pristine hands- in revulsion. His body should be a patchwork of scars- a tapestry that told of his exploits, his greatness!- and instead, he got this body. Of course, that was the least of his worries. His eyes grew heavy as the saturation of magic flowed about him. Castor looked about with his inner eyes, finding the forest alive with flares of red, orange, and yellow, a representation of the ambient energies, setting the forest ablaze with color. Castor blinked, then sighed in a mix of relief and irritation. At least it wasn't blue or purple- that much energy might have killed him in this new form.

As he pondered these new developments, there was a sudden splash to his left. Castor turned sharply, noticing... someone, sturggling out in the middle of the pool. Castor blinked, then jumped as he started toward the person.

"呉〜心配してはいけない ! 助けは方法にある !" He shouted, reassuringly. Of course, this was in Mishran, so it was doubtful the person had understood him. He grabbed an Arcana from his chest, before remembering that none of them worked. Growling in frustration, he leapt into the water, thanking Ahura that he had taken swimming lessos, and began swimming rapidly out the the struglling being in the pool.

Damn, but this pool gets deep fast...
PostPosted: Mon Apr 02, 2012 6:45 pm


It took Quintus a long moment, but he finally gathered himself enough to recognize the scent. Okay, so dying in the desert wasn't part of the plan anymore. Thank the gods for that. He stood, slowly and sorely, before determining that he had definitively taken worse. All he had to do was determine the direction of the smell, then, because going the wrong direction would likely be fatal; smells like this could travel quite far, and could indeed by extremely misdirecting if one wasn't cautious. Quintus knew that from his teenage years, out in deserts not unlike these hunting for wildlife. Then again, he'd only learned how smells worked, not how to actually smell things.

Well, his companion was operational, on some level, which meant it was time to get him up. "C'mon," Quintus told Sam, stepping over to him and holding out a hand, preparing to pull him to his feet. "Let's get goin'."

SirBayer


Jikial

Distinct Hunter

PostPosted: Mon Apr 02, 2012 8:31 pm


The merchant took the other traveler's hand and stood. His sense of loss had turned to lingering and his mind remained focused. Purposeful. Sam had no intention of dying in an empty desert, and from the smell of it, and sound of it, not so empty. He could hear the drums and he turned himself towards the noise, then looked at his fellow misadventurer.

"There seems to be something going on in this direction, let us check it out, I am filling a bit hungry." Sam was not lying. A good meal would suit him just fine. Something to distract from that cold familiar void. Just sitting there within him.

For the first time in weeks, Sam's aggressive cheerfulness began to whither.

And with that realisation the merchant sighed and set forth toward the pounding of drums.
PostPosted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 8:08 am


The distance was farther than the smell and sounds made it seem but after what must have been a few hours stumbling over the hot sands the unfortunate travelers crested a dune and found, well a camp of some sort. Low, round tents of animal hides and brightly colored cloths dotted the sides of a small spring bubbling up from the desert. A small herd of some strange sort of pack animal vaguely resembling a mix between a camel and ostrich stood placidly grazing on the lush green that lined the banks of the oasis. The drums were circled around a fire in the center of the camp where odd people were gathered, dancing, talking, eating, and generally enjoying the endless twilight that hung about this place.

The people themselves were dressed much like the tents, in a mix of hide and colorful cloth. Many wore beads, feathers, and carved bones as well and some carried the jingle of bells when they moved. Oh and how they did move. Dancing around the fire were five scantily clad women wrapped mostly in thin veils and fringed strings of jingling, beaded bells. Bare hips and bellies swayed and flicked with the beat of the drums as their shoulders shook in separate rhythms and long fingers clinked out metallic accents on tiny cymbals. The sensual grace of their movements was enough to distract from the long furred tails that hung behind them and the large, fur tipped ears that laid back in their intricately braided hair.

The men attentively watching the women's dance shared these animal features and Sam recognized them as Faerin - one of the oldest races in Aelzwyr, second only to the dragons. From what Sam had heard in stories, the Faerin were a proud and secretive race that lived in the great desert on the main floating island of Tirna. They were known for their skills as hunters and trackers, feared for their ferocity, and that was about it. Sam honestly didn't know much about them, few people really did.

umbraja
Crew


Ivaylo_Sai

PostPosted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 8:38 am


Dreaming_Ninja_2918
poke


The market street was pleasant and the way the crowds mysteriously avoided the little table where Alana sat with the strange hooded man wasn't so unnerving that she didn't appreciate the solitude of it. His patience with her crippling shyness was comforting and even the brief interruption of the shot man hadn't made this an altogether awful experience. The misty twilight on the lush gardens beside them was beautiful and the man didn't push her to talk so they just sat enjoying the evening over coffee which Traveler waved a waitress over to bring them.

It could have possibly gone on like had something not fallen from the sky and plunged into the distant sea, unseen from the market where they sat but the descent had traced the sky like a falling star and the impact shook the ground slightly. The people in the market noticed warily and looked around, many moving to get a better look at what had happened.

Traveler frowned slightly over his coffee and set the cup calmly down then stood casually and held out a hand to help Alana from her seat. “I'm afraid the evening has taken a downward turn,” he told her softly with a gentle smile.
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