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Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 10:00 pm
The twentieth day, at the appointed place; Strata.
Quite the odd riddle, looking for spring in a desert city which seemed more like summer every day rather than the change of the season from the cold of winter into the growing warmth of spring. Searching for spring was a strange notion in this place indeed. It was both simple, yet difficult a task at the same time. There were more than enough gardens and potted plants which revealed green against the drab yellow, white, and browns of the city and desert, but which one of them was it?
Maybe it wasnt a hint to a rare sighting of vegetation found in the dry lands, but rather, the riddle may have indicated rebirth or renewal of some sort? But that was even harder to find than green, it seemed. That notion left too much open for interpretation.
For the entire day, the magician wandered the streets, hood up even in the heat to protect his pale skin from sunburn, lost in thought, barely paying attention to his surroundings until before he knew it, it was already dark. He noticed that with the sun down, it was much cooler than it was during the day, and was thankful for the cool breeze.
He stopped and closed his eyes. Maybe he was thinking too hard on the riddle and the answer was something much simpler. He took a breath and cleared his thoughts, deciding to start all over again. What was spring? Fresh morning dew on forest moss was the first thought to come to mind. In fact, he could even smell it, the thought was so strong.
His eyes opened abruptly with the sudden relevation. He never had a case of imagination overpowering his senses before, unless it was some kind of illusionary magic, but that didnt seem like the case at this point in time, which must have meant that through his blundering efforts all day, he only managed to stumble upon the answer at his wits end by accident.
Following his nose, he made his way towards the smell, and incidentally, if he was paying attention with his occulatory senses, he would have noticed the green lights beforehand.
Bring a light it said. He figured it was probably the reason why this meeting took place at night, where it was so dark. He noticed bodies as he turned the bend around a building, their shadows cast against the wall by flickering lights. Being one of those awkward timid sorts around people, he had a naturally small presence which resulted in involuntarily sneaking up on people and startling them, so he decided to make his presence known rather obviously.
A flash of light at the end of the street revealed his presence as the head of his staff lit up a bright white light. Bring a light, and he did. Just not the kind to light cigarettes with.
"I'm looking for Varro."
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Posted: Sun Mar 21, 2010 4:42 pm
OOC Note: Nice introductions, all. Haha. I'm time paradoxing the meetings so that Lili arrived first, with Toneldren following about a minute or so after (since he saw multiple people). So they will enter at the same time. Erashnak will come about 15 minutes later and enter last. Keep that in mind when you're eventually entering. Should be the only part of the rp I have to paradox. 3nodding Oh, and don't feel pressured to enter in one post. Go at your own pace. ------------------------------------------------------------- Quote: “Hello,” she spoke kindly. “Are you the man I’m supposed to speak to?” "Oh, thank you.", Varro whispered under his breath. The waves of relief washing over his heart were absolutely palpable. He couldn't resist cracking a grin in response. Another sigh escaped his lips, far longer and happier than the one before it. "I am." he responded simply, locked in thought. It was probably drilled into him by his previous 'career', but he never spoke to a person without sizing them up first. His eyes seesawed as he took his time looking the woman over, his sanguine gaze finally coming to a still as he met with her eyes. "You know," he continued, his voice notably softer this time, "It might be the color of the smoke that's doing it," he paused, chuckling softly as he inclined to his glass with his head, "and it might be the amontillado, but I have to say this, Miss; you have very nice eyes. Very trusting. Very strong." He slowly rose to his feet. The air chilled his back. "I'd say you don't carry the appearance of a hardened warrior, but I learned a long time ago not to go by your first impression. One minute they look completely innocent, and the next-" Flash. The light was absolutely astounding. The green of the smoke reacted to it, firing off in all directions as it cascaded through the ebony sky. Needless to say, it certainly caught his attention. "Well, that." he concluded. "Except in my case it was with fire. Real day ruiner, that. Almost got me to quit smoking." he grinned, taking another long puff from his cigarette. " Almost." "Come on over, sir!" he called out to the man in the darkness. "We're just getting started. I might as well kill two birds with one stone." "It's a pleasure to meet you both." he greeted the travelers warmly. "Indeed, my name is Varro. Varro of Strata, currently. I lack the words to express my gratitude to the two of you. I was concerned for a while that nobody was coming, you should hear what some people are claiming about this mission. Though," he laughed wickedly, "you probably have. But where are my manners? What are your names, travelers? And where do you hail from?" ------------------------------------------------------------- Time Paradox Still in great spirits from his meeting with the two travelers, Varro's mood only grew more pleased as the colossal orc made his way down the narrow street. This was certainly unexpected. He'd heard from acquaintances that an orc had been looking for him all day, but this one stood two heads taller than most. As he quickly sized up the brute, and heard his rather blunt, extroverted greeting, he chose his words carefully. Interacting with orcs was an interesting thing. One had to choose their words simply, yet at the same time not demean their audience to that of a child. The subtleties of rhetoric, sarcasm, metaphors, and a great deal of the aspects of language were effectively lost on the bulky green species. What they looked for instead was unmistakable, clear directness in speech. And that was exactly what Varro intended to give him. "I am." he nodded slowly and firmly. Varro rose to his feet, squaring off his shoulders, extending his chest fully. Orcs were never those to favor inconfidence. "My name is Varro," he continued. "I am the man you are looking for. The smoke makes me happy. You are very strong, warrior." he grinned warmly. "And your equipment is very well made. Shedding blood is not my favorite thing, but I am good at it. It will be an honor to do it with you if necessary." He extended his hand upward for a shake. "What is your name, warrior?"
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Posted: Sun Mar 21, 2010 7:16 pm
Liliana smiled warmly as the man confirmed that he was the man called Varro. She had guessed right about the green smoke that looked like the vibrant color spring. Surprisingly, the man was very kind. He complimented her on her eyes. She always thought her eyes were her best feature. “Thank you, sir,” she said. She didn’t want to boast because she wasn’t like that, but she always considered herself a very trusting person. He stood to show his full self, which she took the opportunity to look the man over before bringing her eyes back on his. The dark probably didn’t allow the man to get a good glimpse at the hunk of metal hanging across her back. “I don’t appear as a warrior, but don’t let your eyes deceive you. Many have made the similar mistake,” she laughed softly. She already liked this man. He was easy to speak to.
She turned to look back where the flash of light originated from. Another man approached from the dark. He appeared to be a cleric or mage-type. She couldn’t gauge the man from the distance. Once he moved closer she looked him quickly over. It was time for introductions which was important. She needed to know names before they went on this journey. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she brought her hand over her heart and bowed her head for a moment. Her hat stayed secure on her head, surprisingly. “My name is Liliana Judge. I hail from the Empire of the Twin Gems.” As she brought her head back up her gaze held a lot of question. “I did not speak to anyone of this mission. Nor do I always trust what I hear. Even if I was told I was walking into a deathtrap I would have come to find that out for myself.”
Before she let her thoughts get too far ahead and appear as a very rude individual, she looked back at the cleric or mage and greeted him pleasantly.
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Posted: Sun Mar 21, 2010 8:29 pm
Snarling, and spewing saliva from his gapping mouth. Flexing, and stretching his massive body. Muscle made up his entire frame, as if he was made from stone. Black armor covered most of his body. Mithril smithed and made especially for him. Deer skin, and basic leather finished off his outfit. Laying underneath his massive amount of armor, and almost topping off his complete outfit. As well as his giant club that rested in his right hand, smithed of the same metal his armor was. Leather wrapped around the handle, and gave the monster a comfortable grip. Topped off from the metal, was enchanted wood, hand picked, and created by a much more powerful being then himself. This material was almost as strong as the metal itself. What really made this weapon a destructive force was the six inch long spike(s), that covered most of the mass of the weapon.
Giving the man known as Varro a handshake, and a firm nod. But what Erashnak considered a handshake, was literally a death trap. Squeezing his hand with little force, but when that hand grabbed something, it usually tore it off with brute force. Seeing as Varro was helping the monster, Erashnak felt that if he injured the man, all hell would break loose. "I iz Erashnak!" A powerful shout, and a smack of the chest. Swinging his left hand, and hitting his own chest on target. Bouncing off his armor, with a loud noise. "Iz herd grate thyngz boat yuz." Erashnak sounded out, as he released Varro's hand, and turned slightly. Giving his other new found friend(s) a friendly snarl. Spewing even more saliva, and then turning back toward Varro. Raising his right hand, Erashnak soon placed his club on top of his shoulder. Resting it on the metal, and waiting for a instruction.
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Posted: Sun Mar 21, 2010 9:57 pm
The magician didnt leave much to look at as the light of his staff began to dim down to something akin to the glow of a torch. Underneath the soft glow of his staff's light, he was dressed rather plainly with a tan robe that covered him from head to toe, the hood pulled up, belt tied around his waist. Over one shoulder he carried a satchel, and within it, the very distinct shape of books pressed against the material, giving it rigid shape. He carried a backpack as well, but unlike the bag at his side, it did not mold and conform to reveal whatever was inside of it.
His face was youthful, without even the slightest hint of stubble on his chin yet, though his eyes were a bright emerald in colour. He wore no visible jewelery, appearing rather plain.
He stepped forward at the man's beckoning, introducing himself at his behest with his soft voice, "I'm Toneldren, from Westlake." They probably never heard of the place. But it didnt matter, he was born there, but he hasnt been back since before he began his studies. His answer was short, quiet, and simple. He didnt go into detail as to what he heard of rumours.
Letting the woman and the leader have their conversation, he backed off a little after a polite nod in return to Lilliana's greeting. He wasnt exactly comfortable around strangers, nor did he really know how to interact and get to know people better, so he just took to standing off to the side and waiting for things to get going. And not too long later, one giant of a man would appear.
Shouting. Lots of it. Toneldren was use to people being only as loud as necessary, which were, sadly, typically quiet. And in the middle of the night, on an empty street, he would expect to have dealing without disturbing others in their homes, so with the shouting, he had some involuntary flinching.
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Posted: Mon Mar 22, 2010 3:26 pm
The two travelers approached, and began to make their greetings.
"Well now." Varro's voice went up an octave in response to seeing the colossal sword strapped to the woman's back. "Impressive." was all he said on the matter, his voice back to its' deeper pitch. The fact that she could even carry the robust sword was impressive. He looked forward to seeing her make use of it.
Varro laughed a little too enthusiastically in response to her statement, much to the chagrin of the mage alongside him. "Somehow I think we're going to get along well." he smiled. "You see, Miss Judge..."
The bright, bright red that his irises took on for all but a second was unmistakable. For those well versed in magic, the small beam of magic emanating from the house within, only to pour itself into his mind through the back of his head was about as subtle as a firecracker. It was a telltale sign of an artifact used for astral projection. "I don't trust everything I hear either."
Still smiling warmly yet deliberately, he slowly turned to the second fellow, who introduced himself in kind.
"I've never heard of Westlake, friend. And I've been around for a long time." There was no suspicion in his voice. "And somehow I don't doubt your sincerity for a second. Though I wonder if you doubt mine."
"I'm sure you felt that." He inflected to the large sack of books. "There are only two kinds of people in this world who carry around that many books at one time, and you're not quite boisterous enough to be a scholar. I'll explain in time, you have my word."
His eyes shifted over to the green plumes of smoke. They had shortened by about 25 percent in height. In about twenty five minutes, they would be all but smolders.
"So!" he said a bit too loudly, causing another violent flinch from the younger man. He caught himself, clearing his throat. "Er...So." he said more complacently this time, giving Toneldren a subtle nod, "I'm going to be out here a tad longer. Why don't the two of you make yourselves comfortable?" he inclined to the door to his right with his head.
"Help yourself to anything inside. I insist. I'll be in shortly, and it's been a pleasure meeting you." Lighting a cigarette once again, he breathed in deeply, and resumed his previous position, effectively ending their conversation.
Upon entering the room, the visitors would peer upon a standard sized yet grand dining room. Multiple chairs of a soft, exquisite leather sat around a hearty oak table. On the table sat a small stack of regal cigarettes, topped with an expensive looking lighter. Adjacent to them were several bottles of wine, all vintage years, all wonderfully palpable. A large roast sat to the right of the table, weighing about twelve pounds, several ornate plates and knives scattered around it. What was extremely notable was the ebony globe fixated to the top of the table. To those well versed in magic, the cascading black waves as information was fed back into it from all corners of Strata would display itself as an entrancing weaving in the air; a proud, powerful dance of energy.
The room to the right was crammed to the tee with hundreds of books, records, and maps, all covered in the same handwriting. Many were yellow and fading with age, others were crisp and new. A roaring furnace echoed out of the room to the left, keeping the cold night air at bay.
Overall, it was quite the comfortable abode.
-------------------------------------------------------------
20 minutes later.
"I am pleased that you have heard great things. It brings me great honor." Varro smiled. "I hope that you will see even greater things."
As far as orcs went, this one was, though it would be hard to believe at first glance, rather dignified. Knowledge of his own strength; waiting patiently and containing himself, using complex reasoning. It was all the marks of an orc used to battle, and following tactics.
That didn't make him intelligent by any means. But it did mean he could follow orders. And that made him a very valuable person.
A quick glance was tossed over at the fire, now at 20% of its' original flare. In about three minutes it would contain itself drastically, and smolder within the urns.
He was quite pleased with the outcome. A strong young woman, a clearly adept mage, and a real berserker of an orc. Plus himself.
Things seemed brighter than ever on this dark, dark, night.
And this time, it wasn't the smoke.
"Come in, my friend." he genuflected to the door, turning the knob deliberately. "There are honorable people inside. Be kind to them."
They entered.
OOC Note: The time paradox has now ended.
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Posted: Mon Mar 22, 2010 5:11 pm
The steampunk warrior’s eyes adjusted when the staff dimmed. It gave her a better view of the magician in his plain robe. He carried a satchel much like she did, but she could guarantee – by the shape of books inside of it – that he didn’t use his satchel for the same reason she did hers. Her small satchel at her side, which was barely noticeable, housed her steampunk designed iPod. The iPod had a very good use. She hoped that nobody would find out exactly why she needed it any time soon.
Varro grabbed Liliana’s attention as he spoke. He was staring at her sword. The metal of it would glint from the light of the magician’s staff. It was no longer concealed by the shadows. “Sometimes it can be,” she spoke softly. For a warrior Liliana appeared modest. She was a woman that liked to keep things simple, and she wished in all of that she could trust people more. She nodded at Varro with an all too knowing look in her eyes and said, “I believe we will get along just fine.”
Again, she was watching the magician as Varro spoke to him. The conversation was brief between the two of them. Varro spoke to them both then, inclining his head towards the door. She didn’t know if she could really be comfortable in another person’s home without them there – unless she was really close with the person. “If you insist,” she spoke as she stepped towards the door then added, “It was a pleasure to meet you as well.”
Inside Varro’s dining room she took a seat at his dining room table. She looked around after she got comfortable. His home had some luxurious items. There were a few items on the table that she took note of. The ebony globe interested her, but she wasn’t well versed in magic so she knew not its purpose. “He has a nice place,” she spoke to the magician, keeping conversation light. She shifted in her seat to gaze at the room to her right. It was crammed with books and many other items.
From inside it was hard not to catch the conversation between Varro and the orc. The orc had a very loud and boisterous voice.
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Posted: Mon Mar 22, 2010 9:26 pm
Magic. He didnt need to sense it to see it. And he didnt need to see it to sense it in this place called gaia. It seemed like the arcane arts were amazingly common here from his experience, not like his own land, where magicians were few and far.
He nodded at Varro's suggestion to get indoors, and was by no means reluctant to comply. It was quite the lavish place, to say the least, as he took in the view. He made note of the globe on the table, the shelves of books, refreshments, and the warmth of the hearth.
He strolled around the table, starting on the right, passing the piles of books with interest as he glanced over their bindings and covers until he made his way to the refreshments. A drink after a day on the desert streets would be nice, and so, he poured himself a little bit of wine before he sat down at the table across from the woman.
He swirled the liquid within the glass a few times, letting it airate before sipping a little bit just for a taste.
"Indeed he does." he replied. And then awkward silence. Holding a conversation was not Toneldren's forte. His interaction with people on a regular basis was extremely limited, and striking up any sort of random meaningless conversation was something he found difficulty.
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Posted: Tue Mar 23, 2010 5:58 pm
"I managed to get one more." Varro happily replied, indicating to the orc at his left, who was now eagerly sitting at the table to ravenously devour the roast. "This is Erashnak." their host explained, walking around Lili as he spoke. The orc let out a grunt and a nod at the two. "Can't hurt to have a little muscle around, right?" he tossed the question at Toneldren. His pace faltered momentarily as he paused, examining the glass. "Nice taste, by the way." he grinned.
"As I'm sure you've noticed," Varro continued, taking a seat in the middle of all three of them, positioned directly in front of the ebony sphere, "I deal in...information."
He gestured lightly to the orb, which reacted to his wave, dark wisps of energy spiraling around a stray finger. "This is called an Eye of Arash." he elaborated. "For those that have willingly bound themselves to it, coming within 100 miles of its' proximity allows them to instantly duplicate their memories within. And I am not the original owner. This sphere holds more than one man could ever bear. And," he stared up at the three travelers, the whimsical tone in his voice gone. "I am prepared to impart some of its' wisdom unto you, to give you an idea of just what we're going to be doing."
"I wouldn't consider myself anything more than a 'dabbler' in the arcane." he shot the mage a stray glance, almost reflexively, though his words were meant for the entire group. "Spells certainly aren't my strong suit. I've never had to project to more than one mind before. Usually others simply project to me. But I'll do as best as I can to spread this to three people."
He placed his hands on the surface of the orb. They slowly melded into it, and vanished within the shadows. Slowly, Varro's eyes began to heavily dilate, and glazed over with the same black mist surrounding the orb. His body leaned back into the tall chair, every muscle relaxing fully.
"Stare into the orb. Do not blink. When it turns a pure white, close your eyes, and open your mind."
Their host went silent, locked in an intense concentration. Toneldren would surely know the burden of projecting to multiple individuals. Anything less than complete immersion in the image would shatter the illusion.
For those that did such, upon closing their eyes, all would be as normal for a good ten seconds; upon which an intense explosion of color would occur for all of three seconds.
As the colors dissipated just as quickly as they came, their vision would clear to reveal a black and white map.
A map of the entire world.
"Can you see it?" Varro questioned. The image quivered like a puddle as he spoke; maintaining both speech and the projection was beyond difficult. There was a soft echo to his voice, for his speech emanated not from the room, but within their very minds.
"Damn it. Any advice on keeping this more stable, Toneldren?" he inquired. The image shook again, more violently this time.
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Posted: Tue Mar 23, 2010 8:24 pm
Awkward silence – a girl’s worst enemy. Liliana slid a finger over the table, tracing the grain of the wood. When Varro entered she looked over at the orc. “Hello,” she greeted the orc with a friendly smile. She didn’t know much about orcs, but in the brief few minutes of him entering the room she could tell the orc had an animalistic behavior. He dug right into the roast, devouring it. She drew her eyes away to look at Varro. She was anxious to find out what the mission involved.
Varro dealt in information. What information was he hoping they would find for him? Or maybe he has the information that leads to a special item? Those were the first thoughts that came to mind. She looked at the sphere that Varro called the Eye of Arash. As he elaborated on what the globe held Liliana couldn’t fathom how something could duplicate memories. “Impart some of its wisdom?” She asked, completely skeptical to what he was saying about this sphere.
Her eyes followed Varro’s hands to the sphere where they settled. She leaned back in her seat, shocked as his hands melded into the sphere. “This sounds dangerous,” she mumbled quietly. She watched his body language as he focused on the sphere. His eyes swirled with the black mist that surrounded the orb. That was scary for her. She could handle a lot of things, but she did not understand arcane magic. So, when he asked them to stare into the sphere and not blink until it turned white she did so with reluctance.
When she let go with resignation she did as she was told. She didn’t blink until the sphere turned white. Her eyes closed slowly in a relaxed manner, opening her mind to whatever was to come her way. All was fine until the explosion of color. It startled her at first, but as quickly as it came it had left just as fast. The vision started to clear to reveal a monotone map of the world.
“I can see it,” she answered with surprise. The image started to shake, which was none to pleasing to her mind, but she willed herself to stay focused and not pull away from the image she received in her mind’s eye.
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Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 2:48 pm
An orc. Well, nothing wrong with a little muscle, even if it was an orc. "At least he's on our side," he replied. Toneldren was soft and squishy, he wasnt one of those fighter types, and being on the recieving end of an orcish war axe was not the kind of situation he'd like to find himself in.
Today I began an expedition led by a man named Varro. I will be travelling along with a woman named Liliana and an orc named Erashnak. The orc was surprisingly agreeable and did not appear to be motivated to kill everything.
A mental monologue. A habit the magician had to put together words and sentences which he would later write in his journal at the end of the day before actually doing so.
Varro supplied information via a magical means of some sort of divining orb he called the Eye of Arash, though he added that he merely dabbles in the arcane.
The magician was quiet, listening intently to the man speak and instruct them to watch the globe as he put his hands inside it. The orb turned white, he closed his eyes.
He couldnt really continue a monologue as his mind was busy blanking out so that it could be filled with information of a map. A map of the world. It wavered everytime Varro spoke. It wavered again when Liliana spoke.
"You could..." he paused, watching it waver as he spoke, letting it settle like the ripples of a pond before finishing his speech, "speak less... Sorry."
Varro seemed to have a lot of... confidence or expectations for the young man. However, Toneldren was not some kind of child prodigy or genius, so his best answer was based off of logical common sense rather than vast experience. So it probably sounded a bit tactless and rude, thus the added last word.
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Posted: Fri Mar 26, 2010 4:52 pm
Toneldren's advice was met with a brief, equally awkward moment of silence from Varro. It was quickly broken with an almost choked chortle of laughter, which erupted into peals of mirth, the image thundering more violently than ever before. Slowly, it reverberated more tightly and rapidly to a relative standstill.
"I suppose that's probably the best advice I'm going to get." he conceded. "I'll try to be as concise as possible, then. Deliberation can come later."
The image shimmers, to focus in on the sea of latent. No land is visible after the zoom.
"This is where we're headed." Varro remarked.
The image transforms once again, this time to reveal a gigantic rock formation rising up out of the water.
"This is Coldridge cove, our destination. The entrance-
A subterranean hole is present, barely visible over the dark blue water.
is submerged about 70 feet underwater."
The image takes on a striking change, splitting their vision in half horizontally. Both images are noticeably sped up. The top one shows a pirate vessel sailing toward the cove. They are very close. The weather is gorgeous. Various birds gather to perch atop the cove. Healthy looking fish leap out of the water. The lower image shows a merchant vessel, much further away. Lightning is striking the water at a tremendous rate. Several typhoons are abound. The area is pouring with rain. Nothing is alive. The image pauses after 60 seconds.
"The top image is from when the cove was used as a base. The lower image was observed roughly 50 years ago. As you can see, there is no natural cause for the weather."
The image begins to change setting. Unintelligible voices can be noticed. There is some sort of music, which gets more vibrant as time passes.
"This..." Varro paused, a pang of regret evident in his voice. "This is from an old friend, Marco. Marco is the perspective you will see here. Only twelve men escaped with their lives. I apologize in advance for the images being highly erratic. Much of this is reasonably repressed."
The image completes, shifting to a pirate den. Alcohol is abound. The men are laughing. Riches are strewn about the cave in all directions. The scene shifts. There is a cage with a woman inside it. An ear piercing scream rings through the head of all viewing the image.
The scene shifts once more. There is blood. Lots of blood. Man attacks man. Many of the attackers are missing their eyes. Enormous holes are pierced in their chests. Another scream.
The scene shifts rapidly to a colossal beast. The beast is blurry with black mist. Its' form is incomprehensible.
"He couldn't remember what it was..." Varro chimed in.
About 60 men charge the beast. It glows blue for a brief moment. The assault seems to have no effect. Enormous tentacles spurt forth from the beast and pierce the chests of each man, hoisting them into the air. The entire encounter takes place in less than ten seconds. Far too much is going on to understand exactly what occurred.
The men howl in agony for three seconds. All goes quiet. The beast roars.
Another scream.
"Come on, we're almost out!" a man shouts. The men climb up the rock wall. They carry no gear. Several of them are wounded from the previous fight. The form scales the rock wall and looks back. A man is straggling behind. The beast appears. It stares up at the man and a yellow glow is seen. The man is cut in half at the waist. He falls back into the pit screaming. The screams are heard as the man exits the cove. The weather outside is chaotic, matching the lower image seen earlier.
"This is all our burden..." Marco speaks. "Look what we've wrought...
Look what we've done."
The scene pauses.
"So..." Varro whispered as if sharing a dark secret, his tone not grim as much as it was analytical. "This is what we're going to most likely be encountering. At first glance it seems hopeless, but if there's something you'll come to learn about me," he proudly tooted his own horn, "it's that I do my research."
The image takes on its' most intense change yet, splitting into four completely different scenes. They shudder horribly for a moment before finally settling.
"Sorry about that." Labored breathing. "This one is going to be the hardest. It took almost a month of scouring through that orb to find this. It's worth it, though."
Each scene shows four completely different battlefields, and each contains a large group of men being slaughtered fighting creatures very similar to the beast encountered before. The fourth scene is the one witnessed previously. All of the creatures are blurred from exact memory, their forms coated with the blurry black mist of repression, which blocks out the finer details.
The images zoom in to a slowed down view of the creatures being stabbed by the men. The spears to not make contact with what appears to be an ethereal form.
The images rapidly jump to the upper region of the creatures, where the heart should lie. Something glows brightly for a moment. The creatures reel up to protect this glowing appendage from harm. Ten seconds later, they enter the physical realm, and commence slaughter. The scene plays back three more times, slower each time, emphasizing the transformation.
The orb's influence ceases.
"You may now open your eyes." Varro informed the group, giving everyone a minute to readjust to the light. "I suggest you don't look directly into fire for a good hour or so. It'll be brighter than bright."
"So." he deduced, quickly jumping back to business. "I'd say that's very likely a weak point. And one that we'd best ingrain to memory."
"You've all just seen a great deal." he continued, his tone amicable and warm once more. The scent of smoke began to fill the room. "An unnatural environmental hazard that kills dozens of innocents every year. A mighty fiend that revels in the dying screams of man. Some horrible mistake that has gone so far as to damage our world. And, of course, a great deal of riches. I'd like to hope that at least one of those causes motivates you to enter the cove with me. I sense worthiness in all of you. And I would be honored to have you along."
But of course, no matter how strong his rhetoric was, the final say was not his own.
"What do you say? Are you in?
And count me nosy if you'd like," he laughed. "But why?"
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Posted: Fri Mar 26, 2010 7:50 pm
The magician answered Varro, telling him to speak less. It made sense when one thought about it – a simple reason to a simple problem. She didn’t speak again after that, afraid that she would cause the image to shimmer and shake. It was Varro that laughed making the image shake violently. It had a dizzying effect. She was glad when it came to a standstill.
The image transformed into many different images. Liliana focused intently on each of them, hoping to burn them into her brain. There was one distinct element in most of the images, the being that was blurred out. She wished she could get a better grasp on what they were up against. She took great notice on the image that showed where the heart of the creature should lay, the bright glow of the object that the creatures took great care in protecting. This was very important, integral part of the image. It was one part of the images she definitely wouldn’t forget.
By Varro’s reaction she could tell the images of his friend bothered him. When the images faded she slowly opened her eyes, letting her green ones adjust to the light. “Is he dead?” She asked about his friend. This was something she didn’t know, but she didn’t want to assume he lived or not.
She answered his question. “I’m in. Riches mean nothing. I’m a humble person. I’ve never had money, except for the bare essentials, which is fine with me. I’m in it for the principal fact that that creature needs to be stopped.” It was part of who she was now – to conquer all evil. She knew it was not an easy feat, probably never would conquer it all, but she would do all that she could to seek vengeance for others and sometimes for herself.
A thought occurred to her. She was considering who was going to captain the vessel that they would need to reach this destination. “Why are you going with us?” She questioned him. If Varro knew what the consequences might be – their possible deaths – she didn’t understand why he was going with them. It was a good question.
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Posted: Fri Mar 26, 2010 11:14 pm
Quote: "What do you say? Are you in? And count me nosy if you'd like," he laughed. "But why?" Erashnak snarled.
A burst of laughter escaped his move, and echoed in the small area they were in. "Erashnak inz." Another rash and hardly understandable phrase. Pounding his fist against his chest once again. Making his point very clear, and letting Varro know that he was obviously in for good. Then he continued with his speech. Lowering his fist, and placing it on his hip. "Erashnak keel stfz." This ended his talking, and his attention was turned toward the mysterious man that stood amongst them. Little was known about this spellcaster, but he interested the savage Orc none the less.
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Posted: Sat Mar 27, 2010 11:45 pm
Disorientation was an understatement in the case of Toneldren. Viewing an image portrayed on a seer's device was one thing, experiencing the images firsthand was entirely different. The images flashed in his mind as if they were his own memories, so vivid, so real, chaotic movements too fast to focus, splitting and dividing to show several scenes at once.
He felt like puking as he fought down a wave of nausea in his throat as he slowly opened his eyes with a shuddery breathe. It was almost embarrassing as he wiped the cold sweat off his brow and found the sight of light painfully sharp as he lowered his head under the protective cover of the hood against the glow of the room.
He squinted at the wineglass at his side as he listened to the woman and orc have their say, normally wincing at the orc's booming voice, but after all the screaming in the vision, it was hardly anything new or surprising.
He took a moment to calm his nerves as he took the glass and downed the rest of the liquer before he spoke.
"I'm in," his voice was soft, "I didnt come all the way here for nothing, and after that, you might as well call me curious."
He didnt have any attachments to good or evil, or blind righteousness. For a lack of better term, this could be considered something of a personal interest for anyone studying the arcane.
Sea. Underwater cave. Ethereal monster. It gave him a quick understanding of the environment, and allowed him to mentally prepare for what he expected to lie ahead on the road to adventure.
"So what's the next move? When do we set out?"
Knowing a timeframe would reveal to him how much time he had to prepare, which was relatively important in his case.
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