Noxryn Posted January 4, 2012 Share Posted January 4, 2012 (edited) (approved by Than)“Don't cry for me,Just try to see,The hidden mystery,I left for thee.”– Song of the MoonThis war, the epilogue to the last, has been dragging on for what has become nearly a century now. Humans, under the reign of the High King Lucian Amdusias , fight not so much for the right to existence, but rather for the fanatical religious convictions of their leaders – the High King, coupled with his advisory council. The humans, and roughly any other mortal, have been living in such shambles, such disrepair and disgrace, that throwing the blame for the blight upon anything – from vampires to imaginary faeries – has become commonplace. All too often do the preachers of the king take up posts, spouting out rhetoric against the Unholy Empire, as they have come to call Lord Alistair’s domain. Often times, the rhetoric devalues the lives of the vampires – any at all, and even stretching to dhampyrs generously so – and has been known to incite incendiary laws regarding the conduct of dhampyrs in society, as well as many lynchings of suspected vampires. To say the least, the human king and his advisory council have decided to capitalize on the plight of the people for expansion of land, wealth, slaves – to eventually encompass the world, and rise to the pinnacle of power, all in good intention, as the king so often states. Lord Alistair is no better than his human counterpart, although he believes with all his heart that it be so. Just as the High King, now more often known as the High Emperor, devalues the lives of his subjects by letting them rot in their own filth and fight meaningless engagements, Alistair has come to devalue the life of all mortals, stretching the devaluation to dhampyrs as well. Within the Alverlanian Empire, only vampires exist, and only vampires are welcomed with any sort of kindness, and even that is rare. With the magical firmament that stretches across the once blue sky, drenching it an oily black, the subjects, nobles and royalty of the vampire empire are free to go about as they please, at all hours of the day and night. This firmament has become the primary obstacle to mortal crusaders, fighting in the name of Alvaster against the children of Illidian. While humans wish to conquer and consecrate, the vampires wish to capture and devour. Alistair rarely leaves his palace anymore, many believe it due to grieving of his father, others believe it due to an undeserved haughtiness, for Alistair has yet to actually make a true mark upon the mortals.Like any night-child in folklore, the vampires need a supply of blood in order to use their abilities and exist. Lord Alistair Alverlain, a too often deified (or demonized) vampire, has decided to make war with the humans – his end result is to capture them, breed them like cattle, raise them like cattle and then eat them like cattle. Of course, any mortal would not take too kindly to such a morbid way of living. Alistair truly wishes the best for his people, as he often cannot lay his eyes upon the lower tier of his society due to how downtrodden and pathetic they truly appear. Instead of trying to find a way to divert more wealth from the Nobles and Royalty, Alistair instead decided to open the military for recruits of all backgrounds – it is no longer the “ebony elite” as it had been under the command of his father. With this allowance, and to keep ties strong in his military forces, Alistair revived the dead Hunter Corps – a series of elite units used to take out high priority targets, and an elite unit whose first and only leader betrayed the Alverlainian ideals of two centuries past. Unrest exists amongst the vampires as much as it does amongst the humans, in both cases, revolt may be near in the future. Choosing to defy the laws of the land, and to create an existence of independence, an unknown entity formed the Sky Raider Pirates. This organization exists only upon their zeppelin – a massive ship brimming with weaponry and who knows what else. It is rumored that the Sky Raider Captain, often said to be on the Nameless, is a dhampyr of exceptional skill. The claims are currently unfounded, and any knowledge of the Sky Raiders any decide to boast is but speculation on their part. No one knows who their members are, where they are, and only tales of their feats reach the ears of the living; some say that the pirates themselves exist amongst the regular populace, spreading these stories as they happen. Regardless, the Sky Raiders are known for many attacks and raids on vampire military settlements, as well as mortal military settlements, and a number of highly regarded officials have been downed by members of this organization. Of course, membership is highly restrictive in such a distinguished organization, and is only by invite, though the reasons set in place behind that decision are unknown. This organization simply sprouted from the unrest, from the poor, from those considered trash until they chose to take any sort of action. As of the current time, they are merely a thorn in the side of both empires, though they have yet to take on anything major.Simply put, on one side of the fight, it’s a bloody crusade. On the other side of the fight, it’s a need for food fueled by ideas of being inherently better than the others. In the middle of it all are some opportunists, who do not so much care for either option in allegiance and they have their own agenda they choose to abide by. The Alverlainian Empire (aka “The Unholy Empire”)They’re all vampires, simply enough. The society they live within is carved elegantly out of the walls of mountains, mountains that also serve as a nearly impenetrable wall to enemy forces. The architecture is gothic in nature, sharp black spires, twisted yet beautiful cathedrals and homes; stained glass windows are commonplace in many of the buildings, often depicting scenes from the Downfall of Illidian. The streets are cobbled and everything is currently powered by steam, including the anti-aircraft artillery weapons that are located underground, only rising by the command of Alistair’s Generals. Despite the beauty, the vast majority of vampires live in the lower-tier of society, often committing illegal acts, fighting for scraps of food, dying for blood and too often holding a great distaste for their leader and the state of disrepair he has allowed his empire to fall into. While the lower-tier are vampires, and considered greater to humans by default, they are still seen as trash by the noble families of the empire. Unlike their poor counterparts, nobles have access to vampiric abilities the lower-tier can only dream of, due to the amount of blood they are allowed to consume and can consume on a fairly regular basis. Due to the powerscale changing with the noble families, they can beat down any rebellions by force and have been known to have fairly cruel attitudes and views of the world. They are the entitled group, and are loyal to Alistair for he is the source of their wealth, privileges and power. Standing on the highest rung of the proverbial ladder are the members of the royal family, currently reduced to only one being – Lord Alistair Alverlain. There is virtually nothing known of the royal family, except for the fear their presence on the battlefield instills into the hearts of mortals and vampires alike. They have been said to have vicious forms, frightening, monstrous and downright unnatural in feel and execution. Currently, there is no known weakness to the royal vampires – some even contest that the sun could not kill them, after hearing the horrific exploits of past royal family members (such as the case of Lord Vladimir II, who decimated an entire enemy invasion force, singlehandedly).The Alverlainian Empire is carved from the mountains that split the continent down the middle, creating a virtual wall that easily keeps intruders out of the empire. Many outposts and stations exist within the mountains, and many settlements have extended towards the uncharted lands, away from the mortal empire, where many different sects of vampires exist with their own rules and regulations, although they all plead allegiance to Alistair. There is a train system that interconnects these settlements to the capital city, Sanctum, and airships are also utilized commercially and are launched from platforms that are quite tall, requiring one to enter an Air-Transit building and then to use the elevator, which is operated with a system of cogs and steam power and ropes and pulleys, and this will deposit one on top of a platform hundreds of feet above the ground.The Royal Military Forces consist of an air force and a land force, no navy is present. The land forces consist of armored soldiers, armor as black as night with only blades to be carried as weapons – they do not have guns. Their armor is lighter, more frail than that of their human counterparts, and this allows them to take full advantage of their superhuman speed, strength and their senses. Regardless of their combat ability, none outside of the Circle of Nine and select members of the Hunter Corps know any magic, so when pitted against a mortal mage, the mage can often win with planning, strategy, cunning and a lot of fire. These forces make up the primary bulk of Alistair’s army, the Air Force considerably smaller and often used for bombing runs, or used to set off chemicals into the human cities in order to kill on a massive scale – these ships are often known as “Reapers” due to the crew members, wearing plague-doctor-esque gas masks, pick up the bodies of the dead after every run.The Hunter Corps is a very secretive organization that is invite-only, more information will be revealed about them as it becomes relevant to the story. (As, it would contain spoilers). All that is known about this organization, outside of them being the elite soldiers under Alistair Alverlain, is that they had been disbanded one hundred years ago, though any information leading to why this happened has been destroyed and citizens who may have lived back then were left in the dark about the illegal operations the Hunter Corps had been involved with.The Alverlainian Empire’s long held religion boasts the Moon Goddess Illidian as the pinnacle of perfection, the Mother they wish to appease and often appeal to for good fortune. Many vampires have extended such niceities to the entities said to aid Illidian – during the Heavenly Rupture, when Illidian and the Aevas (angelic beings at the time, now said to have been forcefully changed into darker entities), and these theological creatures are held up to the highest standard, often depicted as beautiful beings with elegant, spectacular black wings of all shapes and sizes, some even say that the differentiation in wing size and design is how they are ranked in their society. As a result, vampires spit on the image of Alvastar – the God of the Mortals, who is said to have been the God Illidian had rebelled against when the Aevas rose up. Many vampires view Valkyr, the angelic being of the Gods worshipped by mortals, in the same vein as any view dhampyr – disgusting traitors, masquerading in robes of beauty undeserved.Vampires:- Normal vampires, the lower-tier of society: Enhanced agility, enhanced senses.- Military Vampires (Enlisted): Enhanced strength, agility, speed, senses, and have proper weaponry and armor available.- Noble Vampires (And officers): Superhuman strength, agility, speed, senses, and minor powers of shapeshifting (can appear more human/more of their base species) and can turn mortals into vampires (a rare practice, and an honor if bestowed upon a mortal).- Royal Vampires: Unknown.- Vampires are known to live from 500 (low-tier) to 10,000 (royalty) years. The average is around 1,000. (so, when designing a character, think 200 as being twenty in human terms and go from there).- Low tier – nobles can only be killed by fire, beheading, stake through the heart. Getting shot hurts, and getting limbs blown off will put a vampire in a vulnerable state. Only royalty are known to regenerate quickly. (Humans have guns, a few shots can incapacitate a vampire and then cleanup involves staking, or burning -- though, an untrained civilian wouldn't be as effective as a trained soldier).Military Ranks: (Encompasses the Holy Alvastar Empire, and the Alverlainian Empire)- Private- Corporal- Lance Corporal- Sergeant- Staff Sergeant- Master Sergeant- 2nd Lieutenant- 1st Lieutenant- Captain- Major- Lt. Colonel- Colonel- GeneralMembers can apply for a rank up to Major to start, but it will be at my sole discretion if such boosts are granted to a player or not. (Promotions are possible in the game, and will be used as rewards – as will a number of other things). If one wishes to start at a higher rank, come up with a good story for why – I don’t care about stats, I don’t care about a character who wants to be the best, I care about story. So instead of saying “cuz I’m awesome and my character is awesome” come up with a backstory, a well thought out, fleshed out backstory.Also, leadership positions open up on a higher scale as a character receives a higher rank in the military forces, if one chooses to join the military forces. This largely means that during story-based battles, it is likely that a character who holds the rank of Brigadier General will have control over a brigade, while a Sergeant would have control over a unit-type force.*Note about terminology: “Enhanced” abilities are just that, enhanced slightly above normal. A low-tier vampire, for example, might be able to punch through a wood wall with relative ease, but they will not be able to much more than that. Same for speed, they cannot move to where eyes cannot track them, but they can still overpower humans in this regard.Note about Dhampyrs: Dhampyrs will find no easy living in human or vampire settlements, though many are located in human settlements as they are hired as bodyguards, vampire hunters, werewolf hunters, and serve in such various ways. Many face harsh discrimination from the people and they are few in number, so only the best applications will be considered, and if need be, there will be a cap imposed on the players if there’s simply too many running around (for story purposes).Dhampyrs have the following abilities:- Superhuman strength, speed, agility, senses, and partial immunity to sunlight. (if a dhampyr has been in the sun too long, he or she will succumb to heatstroke). Dhampyric powers are weakened in the sun, and enhanced at night – so during the day, dhampyrs are more on the level of the standard human and at night they are more comparable to vampire nobles.- Must feed on mortal blood, characters that choose not to feed will lose their abilities and slowly become ill.- Dhampyrs are combinations of vampire and mortal.- Can live for a known five centuries before death. (However, this isn't a solid number as many dhampyrs die prematurely - such as fighting high-tier vampires, or being hunted down by the mortal military forces, or even the vampyrian military forces).These conditions are alterable, and can change through rewards or progression of the story for individual characters. The Holy Empire of AlvastarThe rise of an empire is something that is often clouded with difficult trials and campaigns, and the land of Alvastar is no exception. Long before any sort of troubles had arose with the creatures on the other side of the mountain, the land of Alvastar was barbaric and tribal. It was a place where humanity was shattered and lived off the ogres and other wildlife, and wouldn’t associate themselves with one another.All this was changed by one man -- a young man who has since been called by many things, but the most common title any gave him was simply “Divine.” This man campaigned across the land, spreading word of a great God with a grand vision for all, a God named Alvastar. He dreamt of a land with grand flying machines, powerful military, and safe and content citizens. The man was blessed with a vision from his master.This man planned his course with purpose and heart. By targeting the smaller, simpler tribes, he was able to establish his presence as a powerful leader quickly enough. Through charisma and Alvastar’s vision, he was able to unite many of the smaller, simpler colonies, and by the time he finished that, the larger colonies found themselves forced to be annexed or eliminated by the growing empire.Currently, the empire is a sprawling and powerful nation that jams life into its borders. The human cities are large but relatively few, and so the interior of the land is thick in trees and wildlife. Small villages and farms are commonplace outside of the Capital cites, and in between those, ogres and dwarves have made civilizations in the forests near the mountains and in the marshlands to the south.The land of Alvastar is not balanced economically. While cities like Veils and the military capital Akastos are sprawling and prosperous, the rest of the countryside is dominated by small villages and farms. Poverty and labor are high for those who can’t find work in the half dozen cities. Akastos is just northeast of Veils, closer to the mountain range that separates the vampires from the humans. It is a fortified city with enough firepower in it at any given time to even put Veils to shame.The north and south halves of the country are split by a thick forest that arcs down the land. This thicket, called Alvastar’s Belt (or simply The Belt) is a dangerous territory, populated by orcs and ogres, and many other mortals who failed to integrate into human society, due to their violent tendencies. Wildlife is untamed here, unlike the grasslands that make up the rest of the country, and passage through is generally reserved for the incredibly religious pilgrims looking for the few shrines Lord Veils had built during his campaigns, or any of the other wizards who search for the rare plants that can be found there.The mortal wizards are the one thing the Alverlainian Empire has no real match for. Settled mostly in the Citadel of Magia, the magicians are a rare bunch. At the age of three, each and every child born in Alvastar is tested by government officials. If they pass the test and their blood is revealed to be supernatural, they are shipped away to the Citadel, and they seldom see their parents afterwards. The magus are not necessarily feared but respected as one would respect a mighty animal. They are dramatically more powerful than normal humans, for obvious reasons, and isolated because of this. Wizards seldom leave the citadel except in dire situations, such as invasion or outbreaks. Regardless, there are an unknown amount of magi working for the King’s Court, acting as bodyguards and advisors on matters pertaining to magical instances, and are often simply emergency personnel in the case of an attack on the palace.Wizards or “magus” (plural: magi), as they call themselves, have a broad spectrum of powers. As the spell book has had hundreds of thousands of years to broaden, no wizard could possibly know every single spell, so wizards often specialize in one certain field, such as necromancy or water manipulation. They are generally forced to one specialization, not only to mental capacity but also physical capacity. Magic usage borrows heavily from physical endurance. The training it requires to master a drastic number amount of spells would render a magus a vegetable. Overuse of magical energies can kill a magus, though there are classified techniques that allow magi to extend their power – these techniques are saved only for those deemed worthy and mentally fit to use them, and are never given away lightly.The Alvastar military forces patrol the streets of Veils at a near constant rate, primarily to keep an eye on the dhampyr population and to keep an eye out for any possible assassination threats to the King. They also exist to remove dissenters, government-bad-mouthers, and people deemed as "dangerous to the whole of society," which is largely left to their discretion. The actual military forces have yet to be truly deployed into combat, and many are often put to protect the capital city. There are specialized forces that exist, but their names are not known to civilians and to even some government officials, simply because what those organizations wish to do is combat the vampires more effectively -- on their own turf -- and they would rather not let the Unholy Empire get wind of their plans.Sometimes captured vampires are brought into the city during the dead of night and even brought into the massive palace, but precisely what is done to them, or what they are being used for, is purely speculation by civilians and military members alike. Setting – GeneralGeneral information about the setting, which applies to all sides. The mortal empire, Alvaster, is a three week journey from the Alverlainian Empire on foot. There are no trains that connect these two powers, nor are there any commercial airships that go either way – however, if one was to get an airship, then the travel time would be reduced to about a week. Time isn’t measured in the game, but this is explained so people don’t instantly teleport from one place to the next in less than two sentences.This is a steampunk setting, with militaries combining armor (more fantasy-medieval style) with things like guns, cloaks, tabards and the like. The architecture for humans is more late 1800’s style (like 1880’s), while the architecture for vampires is more akin to the gothic period (look at old French cathedrals and you’ll know what I mean). There is land in between the empires, forested lands, that go back to the traditional fantasy-setting – where there’s lush green trees standing impossibly high, with dangers lurking here and there, along with rivers, oasis’s and whatever geographical features one would want to include. Locations:Alverlainian Empire:Sanctum: The capital city of the vampire empire, home to thousands of individuals and the bulk of nobles. The Great Palace is where Alistair resides, dominating the heart of the city and towering above all – easily visible from any location within the city, and is by far the grandest piece of architecture there. The city itself is large – shops of all sorts exist, taverns, restaurants, and lamp posts line the cobbled streets often dominated by carriages and buggies, the vehicles primarily owned and operated by the wealthy. Airships come and go from the airship platform, known as Airstrip One, which is near the outskirts of Sanctum and is the tallest structure in Sanctum, primarily so that airships can go back and forth with no problems. The platform can hold up to four airships at a time, though in many cases they are used for shipping food to some of the other settlements and often for military deployments. These vehicles can be used commercially, but the tickets are often incredibly expensive. Many people instead choose to travel by train, which will go to many of the Outer Cities, such as Vidian, Vael, and Ashtar – all named after vampires believed to have ascended to Aeva status.Vidian, Vael and Ashtar are all relatively the same. All are deep within the empire’s territory and live in eternal darkness, all have taverns and a few shops and a small number of residents. They all have railroad stations and airship platforms, but nothing else is particularly notable about any of them. It will be up to players to decide what each town will look like, and perhaps even what specializations each town will receive – if a player wishes to start an importing business in Vael, for instance, then that town would likely become larger and receive more traffic than the others. As the game-organizer, I’d prefer to give players more freedom in the setting where I can, so that I’m not dictating everything down to the most minute detail.As far as maps would be concerned, Vael is not far from the empire and is in between both Vidian and Ashtar, Ashtar being closer to the coast line while Vidian is closer to forested regions. Each town receives airship supplies often, in order to support the civilians living there.Vael's only claim to fame is their airship construction, though the massive plant is actually located outside of the city due to the amount of smoke given off as metals are smelted together and formed. The Empire's top engineers work in this plant, and the airships crafted are of only the highest quality.Vidian, on the other hand, creates weapons for the vampyrian military -- primarily swords, knives, daggers, armors, arrows, and all of that. If one is looking for a better set of weapons, Vidian would have the craftsmen who would be able to create it.Minor settlements are allowed to be established – players alone can introduce them if they so wish, and even be in charge of them. Any more information regarding this, PM Spink as specifics will alter based on player, based on location, based on probability and based on conditions – these conditions are not set in stone and will vary from person to person, which is why they are not posted here. The Holy Empire of Alvastar:Veils is the capital city, bustling with life and the exuberance of boasting the homes of many important families, the palace, along with government officials and headquarters for the different branches of government. This capital city is protected by a powerful array of weaponry, though much of the weaponry is new and considered classified – primarily so no enemy can get wind of just what goes on in the bowels of the city. The Citadels of the Magi are located near Veils, as is a sizeable airstrip for airships, many suitable for commercial flight from city to city. The primary mode of travel for citizens is often the railroad, as airship prices can be fairly high, and the railroads stretch into each city, often taking cleared routes through forests and the like, avoiding settlements of anything dangerous for obvious reasons.Akastos is the military capital of the Holy Empire of Alvastar, and is fairly wealthy because of it. Akastos is just northeast of Veils, closer to the mountain range that separates the vampires from the humans. It is a fortified city with enough firepower in it at any given time to even put Veils to shame.Asona is the epitome of skewed economics. While Veils and Akastos are prosperous, Asona literally soars above them in terms of numbers and physical location, and is a complete marvel in human engineering, but it only houses a few dozen citizens. Asona is a flying city, created by many platforms latched together, with many industrial flotation devices keeping it elevated. Its inhabitants operate through couriers that are sent to and from the surface, bearing rations and other such supplies, and are paid top dollar. It is primarily populated by the Seers of Alvastar, a religious organization who seldom associate with the “surface dwellers.”Alvastar’s Belt is a location of thick forest, containing numbers of dangers and is often avoided as far as common civilians are concerned. There is not much known of the area, though any traveler should be wary, and travelling at night is not recommended.*Note: Anything that applies to the vampire side, such as allowance for minor settlement establishments, are allowed for the Alvastar Empire as well. Rules1) You will respect the staff of this game, and you will respect other players. Disrespecting players can range from minor to major punishments, pending on the severity.2) You will not break any rules set forth by the BZPower administration.3) God-modding is frowned upon and I do not allow it, the goal is to help write a story, not win an unwinnable game.4) PM me your profile, and post it in your first post so all may see.5) Do not do anything major story-wise unless you clear it with me first, this is a precaution primarily to avoid someone accidentally destroying a piece of untold information.6) You may ask me if you want your character to become a Hunter Corps member, or a member of the Sky Raider Pirates. Selection for these two organizations is strict, so if I deny do not ask again – I’ll extend an offer to you if you prove to be a player suitable for that type of position.7) If you have complaints, please take them up with me in PM.8) Do not drag personal issues or disputes into this game, and remember to keep all politically fueled and religious comments out of the game. (There is reason why I stress this rule).9) Remember, this is a friendly environment.10) You may request to make a species, but I hold the right to deny it. (Format such requests any way you would like).11) Remember, this is a story that we are all writing. This is not a game where anyone can win, so don't go out pumping up a character or treating this as one would an MMORPG -- treat it as if you're helping to craft an intricate tale of whatever you wish to roleplay out. Members seen finding loopholes in the rules for unfair advantages, and who take the fun out of the story for other players, will be dealt with as deemed necessary by staff. I don't care if your exploit is "technically within the rules" -- I don't want players who will ruin the fun for others, simple as that.12) To avoid confusion, unlimited characters are allowed. Just don't kill yourself with how many you make, kay?13) Have fun, write a story, or join one.Note: Punishments will be a surprise, so don't break these rules or you may wake up with your character beheaded, floating downstream so that goldfish may feast upon your character's flesh. Have fun now. StaffSpink -- Host and Game Administrator~JC~ -- Co-Host and Game ModeratorProfile: (Remove anything in parenthesis)Player Name:Character Name:Appearance:Age:Species:Gender:Rank (If applicable):Weapons:Abilities/Powers/Specializations:Faction (If applicable):Biography:Misc: Current Characters:1) Spink- Alistair Alverlain (Vampire)- Vayreil (Dhampyric Fallen)2) ~JC~- Romeo (Human)- Bane (Fallen)3 )King of Shadows- Evenstar Le Fay (Fae)4) The Power That Is- Lady Gisabelle de Moahwr (Hybrid),- 'Red Masque' (Human)5) Leada- Venetia Lo'Dar (Vampire)6) Toast of Awesomeness- Aquilus Caesar ("Demigod")- Lawrence Truther (Werewolf)- Arian Huen (Human)- Jimmy (Golem)- Magnus Taol (Possessed Armor)7) Tyrannosaurus Kraggh- Master Legious (Vampire) Edited February 18, 2012 by Spink Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archer Vonn Posted January 4, 2012 Share Posted January 4, 2012 (edited) Approved Species: (and likely other shenanigans) The PaladinsThe lovechild of magic and technology are the blade of the Empire, the things the citizens of Alvastar call the Paladins. They are zealous warriors, the product of a program initiated in secret before the events of the war. The Paladin Project was a collaboration effort between not the King, but his brother, the Prince of Alvastar and the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Military.The Prince went first to the people most likely to embrace his idea, the Royal Engineers. Their leader was fortunately one of the few people who were suspicious of the vampire threat, as most peasants and even nobles at the time were preoccupied. Because of this belief, he was almost immediately on board for the idea.The Grand Magi was a bit of a different story. While he was aware his mages would play less of a role, he was initially skeptical of the program as, even if it were successful, it would even further isolate mages from the rest of the country, and he was not as concerned with the vampire threat as others might be. However, the projections the Engineer and Prince had provided were almost too good to say no to.With the Royal Engineers and Magus cooperating on a plan, the Prince finally presented the idea to the King, the only person standing in the way of the Paladin Project. While just as eager of the Project as the Prince was, the King wasn’t sure as to whether or not he could trust his brother with such a powerful tool in his arsenal, so he approved it under the condition that the Paladins who graduated the program operated under a separate wing of the military that his brother couldn’t touch. Begrudged, the Prince accepted, and the program continued.The basic premise of the program were that willing citizens of Alvastar, willing human citizens of Alvastar to be more specific, were to be transformed into the ultimate tools of war, the soldiers who would bring peace and authority to Alvastar. After a year long training program guided by a year long magical growth, the Paladins would emerge dramatically more powerful.Paladins, physically, are the strongest arsenal the Empire wields. The technological implants they are given at the beginning of the program are tiny pieces of obsidian turbocharged with a growth serum concocted by the Magi. This serum edits all physical flaws with humans, and removes them, allowing for increased muscle growth and dramatically higher potential at their peak, on par with the very top powers the vampires can respond with. The way these chips are inserted create slight interferences to the vocal cords, which give the Paladins a permanent voice filter, making them sound robotic and unable to shout.The growth serum was able to tamper with a few other things, even with a few mental things. The magi were sure to focus on specific parts of the brain, such as the nerves that influence reaction time and slight improvements to night vision.The Royal Engineers were sure to create a uniform to take advantage of the Paladin’s physical dominance. The armour they wear is similar in appearance to what the normal soldiers’ wear- silver and majestic, but it is powered completely differently. Taken the name ‘Power Armour’, it utilizes a delicate blend of basic hydraulics and advanced enchantments to provide increased agility compared to a standard soldier, but more importantly a powerful resistance to magic attacks, as well as the normal protection against sword and gun.---FaeriesFaeries have been parts of human mythology for unknown ages. This was no accident; Faeries are real. They live in a darker realm than that men know, and strike from that realm for reasons unguessable by man. Occasionally they simply murder for whatever reason, killing seemingly at random and sparing others just as often. Sometimes, a child simply goes missing from its crib altogether.To the Faeries themselves, their goals are far more clear; Faeries have no souls. Normally, a Faerie will, after a certain age, slowly lose their interests, minds, and motivations altogether, becoming an empty husk of a being. Only by murder of mortals do the Fae reclaim their minds, for souls are mutable, changeable things, and they change ownership as frequently as coins. To this end, for the first hundred years of their life, Faeries live with no merriment or diversion, merely training, so that they may kill with the most deadly of efficiency, becoming adept in all arts of murder, so that they may live out their lives. Once they have reached adulthood, they are taught to make their raids, harnessing the breaks in reality where the dark ones stalk the earth, learning to fear naught but the touch of iron and steel. So are born the legends of Faeries.Traits of a FaerieFaeries could, at a distance, pass for humans. They have two arms, two legs, one head, one body. Faeries have pale skin, in general, and their eye colors are an entirely different range: Orange eyes are by far the most common, with gold, gray, and white being seen as well, about as common as green, blue, and hazel in mortals. Red and silver are present, but mythically rare, as scarce as purple in human eyes. A Faerie's hair color is essentially random, ranging much of the spectrum.Faeries are predatory creatures; night prowlers, the shadows in the corner of your eye. Mistaken by humans for other creatures of the night, and sometimes blamed correctly, Fae do not hunt for sport, but for sustenance. A Faerie is a soulless creature; their own soul withers away in time, far faster than a man's, and so perhaps every month a Faerie must feed. The method of gathering the soul is simple; a man, woman, or child must be killed. Doing so restores the Faerie's strength and stamina for another moon. Ignoring their need will lead to the same dark fate as a man who ignores his thirst. A husk of a body, dead and useless. But freshly fed, a Faerie is more powerful, physically and magically, than most humans could hope to be. The act of feeding can give a short boost to a Fae's strength, agility, and magical prowess, as well as restoring all of these should they be drained, and healing all wounds not wrought by Cold Iron.In the mind, a Faerie is not so alien, but also not so human. They have motivations fathomable to man; greed, love, jealousy, and kindness. But a life of constant slaughter does not leave a mind unbroken, and many a Fae has given into despair at living an existence such as this. Those who are strong enough can live with their guilt over murder, and become accustomed to it. A few deranged Fae take delight in such murders. Unlike humans, such is encouraged; these Fae are often great and prosperous.A Faerie, so long as she is supplied with souls, is a difficult thing to kill. Their magics are strong, and while a Fae can be killed by mortal weapons, it is a superhuman endeavor to do so. The far more common solution is to use Cold Iron or Magic. Cold Iron, or Sky Iron, can make Faeries physically sick just looking at it, and wounds caused by Cold Iron are beyond anyone's touch to heal, only time and luck providing the healing.Magic is a blessing among men who fight the Fae; those who can use it are among the greatest threats to their hunters, for a Faeries' natural resistances do nothing against the eldritch powers of a magical soul and the powers or creatures at their command. This does not, of course, imply the Faeries are powerless against a bumbling sorcerer. Their swords are sharp, their minds strong. Never forget to fear the Fae.---Demigods: When a human wizard is born, their body possesses a great store of magical energy, allowing them to do wondrous feats. However, sometimes a wizard is born that cannot manipulate these energies as others can. Instead, the energy stores up and flows into their physical body. Such a wizard is referred to as a "demigod."A demigod possesses a tremendous amount of magical energy, more so than a wizard of comparable age. However, because of something or other, their ability to use this is obstructed. The welled-up energy flows into their physical body, making them stronger, faster, more agile, as well as healing much faster than an ordinary human. (Not wolverine, but little cuts will seal themselves off, bigger ones will clot fast, organs can repair themselves with bed rest. They'll get on their feet quicker than you. However, they can't resurrect.)While demigods vary in their levels of strength in one skill or another, most are around the level of a well-fed vampire. (However, there are stories of demigods ripping bears in half with their hands, or beating 100 soldiers with a club. Most likely, however, these are only stories).Now, while the enhancement of a demigod's body takes some of the magical every, there is still a massive well of it within them which they cannot utilize. To this end, they can lend their energy to another wizard, providing a boost to the type and number of spells such a wizard can accomplish. Having a demigod around can turn the tide in a duel of wizards. However, a demigod must choose to lend you their strength, it's not automatically given to you by proximity.---Werewolves:The hunters of the night. The children of the moon. Many names have been applied to lycanthropes throughout the ages, but the most common by far is "werewolf".Lycanthropes are not a species, per se- in fact, they can come from almost any species. They are more akin to those afflicted with a disease, though for most, little suffering is caused by this.The origin of lycanthropy is unknown, but the way it is transmitted is well documented. Upon being bitten by a werewolf on the night of a full moon(but not killed), the disease will be transmitted through the werewolf's saliva into the victim's bloodstream.The wound will heal quicker than normal, but nothing unexplainable. The victim may begin to notice changes, such as heightened senses, growth of hair, or eyes that glint upon reflecting light a certain way.A month from the bite, on the next full moon, the victim will become a werewolf, losing all control and slaughtering all within sight. The afflicted will become a werewolf every full moon from then on, or when sufficiently angered or scared, though moonlight works the best.However, those with the proper mental discipline can gain a measure of control over this, allowing them to become lycans(man-wolves) or giant wolves at will. These werewolves, or noble werewolves, like all lycanthropes, are affected by the moon, their strength waxing and waning as it does. On a new moon, they are little more than humans. Closer to the full moon, they're more than a match for vampires, and on a full moon, though they possess little control, they're killing machines.Noble werewolves have a tad bit less raw strength than lone werewolves, but they make up for it with their control and tendency to work in packs, through a mental link.Becoming a noble werewolf depends solely on the willpower of the individual, but they are quite rare.Any werewolf, in human form, is stronger, faster, more agile, and has better senses than a human, as well as healing faster. These wax and wane in proportion to the moon. While average werewolves can only unlock their full power during the nights of a full moon, noble werewolves can unlock a lesser degree of that power at any time, except a full moon. However, on a full moon, while they possess their most power, they have the least control, and are unable to regain human form when under the influence of the moon.Werewolves age slower than humans, but faster than vampires. Depending on when he was turned, a fifty year old werewolf is around 20 in human terms. Edited January 13, 2012 by ~JC~ Quote 3DS: 3711-9364-3152 PSN: AidecVoros Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Noxryn Posted January 4, 2012 Author Share Posted January 4, 2012 IC: - Vayrael, in Veils -A sky blue feather twirled its way down from the heavens, dancing as if free, despite the shackles of gravity. For many, it would be hard to conceive that something so minute, something so tiny and ordinary, could become a work of art if only looked upon by appreciative eyes. The feather’s dance worked slowly, tragically, as if it wished to be a tear borne of sadness, rather than a dancer wishing to enlighten. As it quietly fell to towards Veils, a hand gloved in black leather gently reached upwards, palm facing the sky, cushioning the delicate feather as its dance came to a timely end. The man who had caught the small ornament of life gently closed his fingers around the object, his one eye looking upon it as if it were a magnificent rose. “Such sadness in simply gliding, knowing that once the ground is reached, there won’t be another takeoff. For the earth to bind us all, after living in the wing of a bird, a sadness many a person won’t ever face,” he raised his hand higher into the air and flicked the feather upwards, giving it one last flight before it was bound to the earth, forevermore. With a waning smile, he continued on his way.Quietly he walked down the busy street of Veils, a triangular hat placed precariously upon his head, with the tip drawn down towards his eyes, casting them in shadow. Any passerby could see that a piece of black cloth covered his left eye, possibly from a bar fight, or even perhaps from serving in the military, or fighting the monsters of the night in order to help protect the mortal inhabitants of Veils. Regardless, no one asked their unvoiced questions of the strange man, wrapped in his long black coat, resembling something naval officers of old would wear, with the cuffs pronounced and folded back, brass buttons lined neatly and a collar that reached up to his cheekbones before folding over back to his shoulders. If anyone had seen images of romanticized pirates, the captain standing proudly upon the deck of his ship with only the wind as a challenger, they may have likened the young man to such characters locked within the canvases of only the most talented painters. On occasion, a soft, bone chilling breeze would wind down the streets, forcing many who wore but only threadbare coats to shiver uncontrollably, and would throw about the stranger’s sapphire hair, some strands gripping onto his collar, while others splayed themselves over his shoulders.It’s very cold, he quietly thought to himself, allowing his crimson eye to glance over towards some of the citizens who were busying themselves with setting up shops, bringing chopped wood back into their homes and the like. He let out a sigh, watching as his breath curled up into the air like smoke, his sensitive ears picking up the nuances of sound throughout the area he walked through. Unlike humans, he could hear the subtle breathing; he could hear the sounds of water boiling as food was cooked behind closed doors, even smell it. Part of him despised having such a high level of sense, but he could not help it any more than one could make the sky green. Slowly, his ears took in the soft sound of powdered snow being compacted under his leather boots, sounding something like a weak crunch.The strangest thing about the thin, tall, yet stately man was how long his blue hair was. Instead of being cut above the shoulders, as many men chose to do, he had allowed his to grow so that it draped just past his waist, his lengthy bangs brushed to the side, somewhat covering his patch covered eye. Many of the citizens believed him to be a dhampyr, and he accepted the accusations willingly – he dressed similarly to one, wearing darker colors and carrying weaponry about, and his pale skin, abnormally colored eye and even his noble-esque gait would make many associate such a creature with himself. Of course, he could not fault those accusers entirely – they were correct, he happened to be a dhampyr of all things, but he often preferred to not have it become the core aspect of himself.Contact said he’d be in here, suppose I may as well walk in, his thin lips quivered into a frown, as he knew why people contacted him and the organization he worked for, to kill another, a reprehensible sin for which I could never atone myself for in the eyes of the Mother. Pushing his own convictions to the back of his mind, he reached out towards the cold, frost encrusted handle to the Lovely Mirridan, a tavern located near the lower tier of Veils, where the bulk of citizens lived – where the ale was cheap, and good times even cheaper. Once his ebony glove wrapped around the handle and pulled, Vayrael braced himself for the onslaught of smell and stares. Dhampyrs aren’t welcome here, is what the expressions would say.The wooden door creaked open, snow falling from the cracks and icicles descending from the doorframe, falling onto the cold ground as Vayrael stepped into the small shanty. As he had predicted, eyes of every patron had fallen upon him with hostility – they hated dhampyrs, all of them. Seeing them around the city, Veils especially, was not all too uncommon, but it was not as if dhampyrs walked in patrols as the soldiers do and had become normalized within this society. We’re still seen as traitors, bloodthirsty murderers. Vayrael took the stares in stride, even ignoring the slurs many patrons threw his direction – dirty half-breed, abomination, and a skirk – originating from the sound traitors would make as their necks were slit in a public execution. Over the many years of his existence, Vayrael had become accustomed to such phrases and words, and he was glad that there were no “innocent” dhampyrs – such as children – who would be exposed to such a volatile atmosphere. To his knowledge, there hadn’t been any “new dhampyrs” in the sense that they were born within the last sixteen years or so, at least as far as Veils was concerned.Metal adornments Vayrael wore upon and under his coat dangled with each step he took, armor lightly bumping against armor, and the small ring tied to a chain around his neck would occasionally tap upon a breastplate that only covered the left side of his chest, made of thin metal primarily so that he would not be hindered while in combat with creatures such as vampires, werewolves, and apostate magi. No one would challenge him here, at least, not if they wished to see the morning and Vayrael knew that. They could call him whatever they wished, they could give him poor service, spit in his drink, even push and perhaps attempt to trip him now and again, but they would never fight him. As a dhampyr, he could easily tear apart each human in the room with his bare hands, but none of them knew that he wouldn’t do it even if he had been attacked. Vayrael, despite his profession, always felt a heavy weight in his heart after silencing a target. Perhaps, as he had often thought, he was simply more religious than others.“One please, make it your cheapest,” Vayrael said quietly to the bartender, his hands gently laying atop the brown, wooden counter, the tall dhampyr leaning forwards a bit. Even though the situation didn’t call for it, Vayrael had a fairly upbeat tone to his voice, his one eye seemed to smile in the dim lighting, as did his lips, which revealed the tips of the fangs peeking slightly over his lower lip.“A hundred pieces,” the man gruffly stated, ignoring the fact that his posted price was around five pieces – pieces, simply being, the name for currency and not referring to a particular type of piece. Vayrael didn’t complain, unlike many here in the tavern he was fairly well off, though his job demanded many to pay high prices to him; his prices for assassinating targets was much higher than most, if only because he had the best results.“Oh… well okay, take this,” Vayrael reached back and pulled out a small coin purse, handing it over to the bartender. “There should be a hundred and twenty pieces in there, the extra twenty just for the grand service,” Vayrael’s tone hinted not at sarcasm, but at genuine sincerity. Unlike many bartenders, this one had only raised it to one hundred pieces – too often Vayrael found himself stuck paying twice that on occasion. The bartender said nothing in response, just slamming down a tabard full of brown, murky liquid. The dhampyr just gave a small smile and took the drink to a spot near the back of the tavern, sitting in a dark corner, his back to a wall and his eyes watching the patrons. As if he had brought along an imaginary friend, he sat the tabard down at the empty seat across from him, leaning back and dragging the hat slightly more over his face, giving the impression that he had fallen asleep.Vayrael stayed like that for a good ten minutes, though no one bothered him and he simply faded out of the buzzed memories of those around him. He could never sleep in such a place, the noise was not only unbearable but the air was so thick with alcohol that he could literally taste it. Eventually he heard someone slide into the seat across from him, the individual’s finger lightly tapping upon the tabletop three times.“Dhampyr, take the note and the down payment. You will receive the payment described on the paper after the deed is done, understood?” The voice belonged to a man, likely in his mid twenties, and had the refined edge of an educated noble, though Vayrael supposed that this man was most likely a butler to one of the households. Vayrael did not care about who hired him, only that he received payment when the job was done and kept his reputation as is, along with the reputation of the organization he worked for.“I’ll take the note and payment, and you will kindly remember to not speak of this transaction. I would like to live without the Calvary on my rear, if that’s alright with you.”“I only expect you to do the same, dhampyr.”With that, the contact stood up and left, going to do whatever it was butlers did. Casually, Vayrael pocketed the money and the note, none of the nearby drunkards taking any notice of what just happened.I’ll spend a little while here before taking my leave so that I can get to the outskirts of Veils without needing to wait so blasted long for Gavin to bring the airship out. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archer Vonn Posted January 4, 2012 Share Posted January 4, 2012 (edited) or you can...just a friendly tip as i've noticed these are two enormous text walls, this post is applicable to all players in veils, it's recommended you read this one if you're feeling lazy.IC[Veils]The orange that reflected on the bleached marble buildings of Veils was discarded by a yawning sun. The short, stocky buildings were bathing in a drowning glow, but the radiant glowing orbs that the Magus produced for the civilians of Veils were mostly off. No person in Alvastar would be sitting in their homes tonight. For tonight was the night where all would be put right; so was the claim that the Empire’s might did make.The largest courtyard in Veils, the largest in all of Alvastar, was directly south of the Palace. The Palace itself was a glorious construction, complete with beige marble walls, high towers, long, stained glass windows, and beautiful gardens surrounding it on the east and west sides. It was the enormous diamond jutting out of the golden ring that was Veils, the enormous diamond that dozens of thousands of people were huddled around, either in the courtyard immediately south, or in the streets leading up to it. Most of the nobles were, naturally, escorted to the courtyard, eager to drink up the drops of meaningless drivel that their King was preparing to soak them with.Dozens upon hundreds of soldiers patrolled the streets, wearing full suits of gleaming metal armour, fully automatic weapons resting in their arms. Alvastarian protocol dictates that there be, at any point, at least two entire platoons of soldiers, about a hundred men, be patrolling the streets whenever the King makes a public appearance or announcement, and at least twelve Paladins escorting the King personally. The King was a god amongst men in Alvastar, the direct descendant of Amdusias Veils himself. This protocol was put in place by King Lucian Amdusias- the very King preparing his speech that night.“Your Highness,” The filtered voice of the Paladin leaning over his shoulder snapped the King out of his trance. The middle aged man was resting in front of a dully lit mirror in a dully lit room, the door pushed open just a crack before the Paladin had entered.Lines of stress had invaded the King’s brow, lines with roots stemming back from his childhood. A golden crown circled his head like the walls of his city, keeping fingers out of his hair like the walls kept out the poor. It was quite a majestic piece, tall and golden, and even in the dim light was shining brightly. He sighed, and nodded. Streaks of gray drifted along in the auburn river that was his beard, and understandably so. Things were not exactly going well for the Empire.“Yes, yes, let us be on our way.” He rose and the Paladin instinctively pulled his chair out of the way. The King was not a man to take lightly- even the super soldiers of the Empire blindly feared him as a child would fear a man with a big stick.The King didn’t wait for his soldier to follow him; he simply exited the room, taking enormous steps to isolate himself from his messenger. Half his request of Paladins stood at attention in the hall, a trio on each side, each one resting large, blocky rifles in their arms that had enough fire power in any rifle to blow the head clear off a vampire all the way in Sanctum. They instinctively peeled off the walls and followed their King.A golden boy capped in chocolate rounded the corner behind the King, and glanced at the Paladin who had alerted him of the time, still leaning in the doorway. A bead of sweat was rolling down the forehead of the iron warrior, one the Prince cocked an eyebrow at, one that made him slow his pace, but not stop it. He needed to get a word in before the word went out.He jaunted down the hall at a brisk pace, through the tapestry of hallways that constructed the Palace. It wasn’t long before he caught up with the brigade of Paladin’s marching towards the balcony.“Your Highness,” He started, and edged to push his way through, in between two of the knights. The two didn’t open up for him, completely unmoved by his impact, and mechanically rolled their shoulders back, shrugging him off like an insect. He scowled as he regained his footing, and charged again, this time giving his all. The two Paladins expected him this time, and broke shortly before he would’ve made contact, and he stumbled forwards, nearly slamming into his father.“Your Highness, I must speak to you. I just must.” He repeated. His voice sounded young and innocent. It couldn’t the voice of anybody much older than seventeen. The King scoffed, shrugging his fur coated shoulders. “Not now Romeo. The people grow restless.”“Please! It’ll only take a second!”The King stopped and turned sharply as a dagger, and his face was one of utter frustration. The Paladin’s behind him echoed his stop almost perfectly. “If it’ll only take a second you can say it now. If not, then by god’s it’ll take more than a second, which is time I just don’t have.”“Father-”“That is what I thought. Goodbye, Romeo.”Without another word, the King and his escort continued their march, leaving Prince Romeo Amdusias in the dust, discouraged and disgraced. Against all reasoning the Prince felt crushed by this, even though his father treated him as any other civilian. The news of his engagement was something that his father would not be able to enjoy just yet, it seems.He looked up a second later. The crowd’s roar swept over him and battered his consciousness down, and he winced as subtly as possible.Surveying the orange tinted crowd through green tinted windows, a gleam in his eye and a smile on his lips were case enough to convince the Paladins behind him that the King had forgotten what had transpired not thirty seconds ago. He turned, wrinkles beside his eyes as he addressed his escorts and said he could take it from there. The roar that greeted King Lucian Amdusias as he walked onto his continent of a balcony to the railing was enough to put a lion to shame.He cleared his throat, something he had been preventing all day. As he did this this, the magic implant that the magi doctor had given him this morning activated, making his vocal cords infinitely more powerful than normal, giving him his own personal megaphone to command the audience with, and one that would dissolve by morning.“Oh, Alvastar above himself has never seen a more magnificent site as than all my citizens.” He began, his voice silencing the crowd like a blow. “And never before has his glorious land been blessed by such a city that is Veils! He knows just as well as I how lucky I am to have such a strong nation…” Edited January 4, 2012 by ~JC~ Quote 3DS: 3711-9364-3152 PSN: AidecVoros Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Xomeron Posted January 4, 2012 Share Posted January 4, 2012 (edited) Despite what I said in the planning topic, here I am. Species and character profile, ICing to come later.Faeries have been parts of human mythology for unknown ages. This was no accident; Faeries are real. They live in a darker realm than that men know, and strike from that realm for reasons unguessable by man. Occasionally they simply murder for whatever reason, killing seemingly at random and sparing others just as often. Sometimes, a child simply goes missing from its crib altogether.To the Faeries themselves, their goals are far more clear; Faeries have no souls. Normally, a Faerie will, after a certain age, slowly lose their interests, minds, and motivations altogether, becoming an empty husk of a being. Only by murder of mortals do the Fae reclaim their minds, for souls are mutable, changeable things, and they change ownership as frequently as coins. To this end, for the first hundred years of their life, Faeries live with no merriment or diversion, merely training, so that they may kill with the most deadly of efficiency, becoming adept in all arts of murder, so that they may live out their lives. Once they have reached adulthood, they are taught to make their raids, harnessing the breaks in reality where the dark ones stalk the earth, learning to fear naught but the touch of iron and steel. So are born the legends of Faeries.Traits of a FaerieFaeries could, at a distance, pass for humans. They have two arms, two legs, one head, one body. Faeries have pale skin, in general, and their eye colors are an entirely different range: Orange eyes are by far the most common, with gold, gray, and white being seen as well, about as common as green, blue, and hazel in mortals. Red and silver are present, but mythically rare, as scarce as purple in human eyes. A Faerie's hair color is essentially random, ranging much of the spectrum.Faeries are predatory creatures; night prowlers, the shadows in the corner of your eye. Mistaken by humans for other creatures of the night, and sometimes blamed correctly, Fae do not hunt for sport, but for sustenance. A Faerie is a soulless creature; their own soul withers away in time, far faster than a man's, and so perhaps every month a Faerie must feed. The method of gathering the soul is simple; a man, woman, or child must be killed. Doing so restores the Faerie's strength and stamina for another moon. Ignoring their need will lead to the same dark fate as a man who ignores his thirst. A husk of a body, dead and useless. But freshly fed, a Faerie is more powerful, physically and magically, than most humans could hope to be. The act of feeding can give a short boost to a Fae's strength, agility, and magical prowess, as well as restoring all of these should they be drained, and healing all wounds not wrought by Cold Iron.In the mind, a Faerie is not so alien, but also not so human. They have motivations fathomable to man; greed, love, jealousy, and kindness. But a life of constant slaughter does not leave a mind unbroken, and many a Fae has given into despair at living an existence such as this. Those who are strong enough can live with their guilt over murder, and become accustomed to it. A few deranged Fae take delight in such murders. Unlike humans, such is encouraged; these Fae are often great and prosperous.A Faerie, so long as she is supplied with souls, is a difficult thing to kill. Their magics are strong, and while a Fae can be killed by mortal weapons, it is a superhuman endeavor to do so. The far more common solution is to use Cold Iron or Magic. Cold Iron, or Sky Iron, can make Faeries physically sick just looking at it, and wounds caused by Cold Iron are beyond anyone's touch to heal, only time and luck providing the healing.(Meteor rocks, to be perfectly clear)Magic is a blessing among men who fight the Fae; those who can use it are among the greatest threats to their hunters, for a Faeries' natural resistances do nothing against the eldritch powers of a magical soul and the powers or creatures at their command. This does not, of course, imply the Faeries are powerless against a bumbling sorcerer. Their swords are sharp, their minds strong. Never forget to fear the Fae.Player Name: King Of ShadowsCharacter Name: Evenstar Le FayAppearance: 5'9”, Orange eyes, black hair, pale skin. Has a stern face with a pointed chin and broad cheekbones, and a somewhat large nose. One couldn't consider him handsome in any conventional sense of the word.Age: 413Species: FaerieGender: MaleRank: ---Weapons: A longsword made from glass, magically altered to approach the strength of steel while being extremely sharp. Abilities/Powers/Specializations: Like all Fae, Evenstar is capable of magical flight. In addition, he shows several talents common to his species; he is a skilled illusionist, able to disappear entirely with a few minutes' preparation, and to create ghostly images at will, with the complexity of the illusion increasing the requisite concentration. With enough preparation, these images can be granted substance. Evenstar also has a talent for icy magics, able to channel frost and snow easily.Faction (If applicable): Evenstar is loyal to no one, but one could call him a member of the Kingdom of FaeBiography: Evenstar is by no means an old Faerie; both the monarchs are ten centuries older than he is. However, Evenstar is not a young fae either. Young Faeries are decadent creatures, consumed with lust and pleasure; Evenstar holds himself to higher standards. Evenstar's Sin, if he could be said to have only one, is Pride; he sees the King Of Shadows and The Queen of Air And Darkness as awful rulers and expects that he could do far better.Misc: Edited January 4, 2012 by King Of Shadows Quote That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.-Rover "A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat.""The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archer Vonn Posted January 4, 2012 Share Posted January 4, 2012 and i'll make you regret every second you've spent in that planning topic! Quote 3DS: 3711-9364-3152 PSN: AidecVoros Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Trevsky Posted January 4, 2012 Share Posted January 4, 2012 ICs shall commence when I feel like it Player Name: LeadaCharacter Name: Venetia Lo'DarAppearance: As a vampire tasked with the role of blending in with human society, Venetia's outright appearance is as inconspicuous as possible. As a result, her red eyes have been replaced a calm, satisfying blue contact lense, whilst her mouth no longer possesses the trademark fangs, instead boasting a beautiful, clean, white (however artificial) smile. Her complexion is easily the most telltale aspect of her true nature, as it an almost sickly pale hue. Despite this, she is far from unattractive, her height tall, her body nimble and flawless, her skin soft and pristine. The features of her face yet defined, with flowing crimson red hair that reaches shoulder length. As for attire, Venetia can typically been seen wearing both the dresses and corsets of the era, as well as leather armor and a shadowy cloak, depending on the scenario at which you find her. Age: 354Gender: FemaleWeapons: Venetia carries one hidden blade; a spring fired mechanism that causes a blade to protrude from its hidden position amongst a gauntlet. This is used primarily for stealth kills, but also can be used in combat (although it usefulness in such a scenario is limited) She also utilizes a set of six poisoned throwing knifes, and a dagger with a six inch blade, enchanted to put its a victims in a frenzy for the purpose of making a rather unclean clean getaway. Finally, Ventia possess three smoke bombs and an enchanted cloak designed to blend into the shadows of the night. Abilities/Powers/Specializations: Extremely agile, surprisingly (although not overwhelming) strong yet fast and nimble and skilled in the arts of stealth.Biography: Like the majority of the vampire race, Venetia grew up as a member of the lower class in the city of Vael. An only child, her parents were never able to make ends meet, and as such, Venetia never had any concrete formal education and was always hungry and bloodthirsty. However, the girl was far from unintelligent. Even at a young age, Venetia had a complex understanding of how people worked, and the best way to manipulate them. This fostered into a young woman who radiated sophistication, despite the fact that her adept comprehension of psychology and social dynamics had been shaped from experience. Seizing advantage of these skills, Venetia abandoned her old indenity and persona, moved to Sanctum and adopted the life of a noblewoman. For nearly half a century she played guise almost perfectly, working the black market and the stocks to her advantage, creating algorithms to pull as much money from the broken economic system as possible. However a business deal went wrong, creating a rivalry between Venetia and a powerful group of individuals. She was exposed to be a commoner and a thief, and she was left to rot in prison for the next century or so, until she was given a deal by a secretive government organization known as The Spectral. For all intents and purposes, The Spectral was completely removed from the public's eyes, and tasked with matters relating to espionage, reconnaissance, and assassination. They gave Venetia a choice; life in prison or life in service. So she took the obvious route and was thus trained in the art of being an assassin, her ability to adopt the life of a noblewoman proving her to be the perfect candiate such a task. Recently she was given her first real mission; find any information avaliable on the Alvastar Empire's war effort and assassinate the High General. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Xomeron Posted January 4, 2012 Share Posted January 4, 2012 IC: VidianVampires swarmed about him. Dull, rust-eyed half creatures who believed they were the true predators of this world. Perhaps they were. But if they were, this world was seriously lacking in proper predators. Vampires were half-creatures, born of a man and a disease. To him, they could never hold the true power and elegance of nature, as abhorrent as they were. Evenstar, on the other hand, was a Faerie. A true predator, he strode this world in defiance of its every natural law, but rather than born of sorcery and grim rituals, Evenstar was the child of a darker world. These Vampires were nothing to him. Quote That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.-Rover "A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat.""The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wyrd Bid Ful Araed Posted January 4, 2012 Share Posted January 4, 2012 (edited) OOC:Player Name: The Power that IsCharacter Name: Lady Gisabelle de MoahwrAppearance: A tall and stately woman of middle-age. She has an aquiline profile and high cheekbones, with a pebble-dashing of freckles just under her eyes. Her hair, which trails down to the small of her back, is a shade between auburn and regular brown, though greying around the temples, giving the impression of an ermine fringe to a royal cloak Her eyes are a shimmering shade of green. She is fairly thin, more a 'malnutrition' kind of thin than just naturally lithe, though her corded muscles, the result of a lifetime of labour, are clearly defined. Despite technically being of noble blood amongst her people, she wears plain clothes of linen or wool rather than fine silks, and if she uses dyes at all they are of earthy greens and brownsAge: 37Species: Human/Tywch an SibodhGender: FemaleRank: NAWeapons: Longbow, with a hip-borne quiver. Two carving knivesAbilities/Powers/Specializations: Can breathe underwater. Enhancement of existing senses plus addition of electroreception sense. Skin can become covered in mail-like denticle armour, enough to turn aside daggers and swords but no match against heavier weapons (axes or halberds) and useless against gunfire or magic. Years of hunting have made her a keen woodsman and trackerFaction: NeutralBiography: Gisabelle is the current high lady of the Tywch an Sibodh clan, a nomadic race of humans who have a reputation for sorcery and witchcraft. Truth be told, they do have magic, but only one real trick. They can leash the spirits of animal totems to their own, then draw upon the strengths and abilities of that animal. They have no choice in which animal becomes their totem, it is always the animal that suits their personality least, the idea being the individual learns from this and becomes a better all-round person. So a headstrong warrior prone to rushing into fights would receive a mouse to teach them the wisdom in retreating or using intelligence. In her youth, when she received her totem, Gisabelle was feckless and unfocused, letting her emotions rule her and constantly becoming distracted. So she ended up with a shark-spirit leashed to her, so she could learn to be focused and single-minded, to put her emotions to one side so she could think clearly and logically. As the heiress to the clan's high family this was a useful life lesson. The Tywch an Sibodh are often unwelcome around the small villages they travel between due to suspicious minds blaming them (not always undeservedly) for any unsolved wrongdoing. An ineffective high lady would only make the ill-will worse.Though she has become much more pragmatic and clear-headed now she has reached middle-age, some vestige of her old personality still remains. Her child, Scar, recently went missing, journeying off the seek independence, and rather than send some of her clansmen after the wayward teenager or simply let Scar's rebellious streak wear out by itself, she has elected to head out herself to find and bring back her errant offspringMisc:Player Name: The Power that IsCharacter Name: 'Red Masque'Appearance: Though in actuality a young woman with rather squashy features, plump cheeks, a round nose and slightly protruding front teeth, she doesn't allow her face to be seen. She keeps it hidden behind a red face mask, from which she derives her name. She used to just wrap her head in crimson bindings, but has recently upgraded to a proper mask, styled after a demon with pointed teeth and small horns. Only her blue eyes glare out from behind it. Her plain brown hair is around shoulder-length, usually tied back in a short ponytail and hidden away in a hoodMost of her attire is dregs and rags stolen from various shops. The only attempt at a theme or coordination is that all the clothing and equipment is dark (bar the eponymous mask), better suited for skulking around in shadows. If something was too small it has been cut apart to fit. If something was too large its been tightened with a belt. She has crude armour, formed simply by strapping bits of metal to herself. Her breastplate is the remains of two broken breastplates roughly tied together, her pauldron is an old panAge: Appears to be early twenties, maybe late teensSpecies: HumanGender: FemaleRank: NAWeapons: A pair of hammers. Not big warhammers, but plain ordinary hammers, probably pilfered from a carpenter or blacksmithAbilities/Powers/Specializations: Red Masque has incredible physical strength, around the levels of twenty men. She also has the physical durability to go with it so, while not invulnerable, she won't break her own arm punching something. Has some kind of affinity with the earth allowing her to sense vibrations through it (only works if she can actually feel earth). Also, oddly, her saliva is mildly anaesthetic. It creates a pins-and-needles feeling, and can actually paralyse if she bites you enoughFaction: NeutralBiography: Not much is known about Red Masque. She dwells in Orrheim, a small town on the edge of the Holy Empire of Alvastar that mines iron ore from the cliffs, where she just appeared one day. There was a disagreement between two patrons of a tavern which escalated into a full-on brawl, and then Red Masque was there to grab both participants by the ankles and smacks their heads on the ground until they stopped wriggling. From that day on she seems to have fallen into the role of unofficial sheriff of the town, stepping in when things get ugly to stop crimes and right wrongs. The concealment and mysterious habits mean the townsfolk know nothing about her, not even that she's female. However they have begun to see her as a nuisance just as much as a keeper of the peace. Her methods generally involve hitting things, and if that doesn't work hitting them harder. This leads to people and property being damaged unlawfully and sometimes unfairly when she'd judged a situation wrong. Who knows how long before they tire of her altogether...Misc:IC: The village was small and off the beaten track and the Lady de Moahwr had already forgotten its name. It existed primarily because it traded with Asona, sending up coal and the city's engines and food for the city's people. A small but profitable affair. She was here to try and seek passage to the floating city above as she hoped she might find a decent tracker there. Or possibly a bounty hunter, but those would be a last resort...IC: Red Masque dusted her gloved hands off as two men lay groaning in the dust. You got their type a lot in Orrheim, the mining town attracted burly fellows drowning in their own testosterone who'd fly off the handle when a little alcohol was added to the mix. These two had started fighting and she'd stopped them. It might take a while for the to heal but they'd never fight again. Probably. Maybe.She heard the angry whispers start up. That was never good news...Using her super-strong legs she leapt up onto the rooftops and started bounding away Edited January 4, 2012 by The Power that Is Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Noxryn Posted January 5, 2012 Author Share Posted January 5, 2012 IC: - Vayrael in Veils-He could hear the King's speech, but he cared not for what the man had to tell his people. As far as the dhampyr felt concerned, he was not a citizen of this Empire, nor any Empire, and he couldn't bear the thought of being forced under a banner belonging to a dolt. Of course, Vayrael didn't feel Alistair to be a true moron, but more a spineless coward, one who wouldn't do what needed to be done in order to preserve the people who needed preserving, or to help those who desparately needed help. All too often he found himself ranting on both emperors to any poor soul who happened to waltz into the room, though his issues between the two varied here and there. For the emperor of the mortals, Vayrael felt the man deluded in fantasy, marching his own subjects to a useless, premature death in the name of a god Vayrael had come to hate with a horrible malice.Mortals are ruled by a dolt, vampires are ruled by a coward. Slowly, Vayrael pushed his way down the streets, the brim of his hat casting a shadow over the top half of his face as he walked. To many, he would definitely seem out of place, what with wearing a charcoal naval officer coat and all, but no one felt confident enough to violently accost the dhampyr. There were many who could, successfully, but Vayrael had enough formal and informal training in the matter of fighting, along with weapon use and how to manipulate himself in the midst of battle in order to gain an upperhand, that many of the more inexperienced mortals living within the confines of Veils wouldn't prove much of a challenge. Either way, Vayrael knew he wouldn't defend himself if confronted, killing people in the middle of their own empire was a most distasteful idea, and he wished not to cause unnecessary pain to families who happened to have morons running around with their blood in their veins."Hm, up there, why not," he quietly mumbled to himself, glancing towards the top of a tower that rested fairly close to the palace, Vayrael thinking to climb to the top and wait for night, then bust into the place through a window. In many a case, the glass would cause lacerations and extreme agony, but Vayrael's coat was thick enough to protect him from the shrapnel, as was his hat and gloves. "It'd be dramatic," he added quietly to himself, resting his hands on the back of his head in a relaxed manner before continuing on down towards the tower, his gait as casual as ever.When night fell, Vayrael would kill the man who calls himself "King." Odds were, it'd make him a fugitive with quite a hefty reward on his head, but he had intentions to leave no witnesses, if possible. Even though murder was definitely not something that left a pleasant taste in Vayrael's mouth, he had to make exceptions in some cases in order to further his cause.Their cause. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archer Vonn Posted January 7, 2012 Share Posted January 7, 2012 (edited) i tried doing grammar i honest to god did but i couldnt;The PaladinsThe lovechild of magic and technology are the blade of the Empire, the things the citizens of Alvastar call the Paladins. They are zealous warriors, the product of a program initiated in secret before the events of the war. The Paladin Project was a collaboration effort between not the King, but his brother, the Prince of Alvastar and the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Military.The Prince went first to the people most likely to embrace his idea, the Royal Engineers. Their leader was fortunately one of the few people who were suspicious of the vampire threat, as most peasants and even nobles at the time were preoccupied. Because of this belief, he was almost immediately on board for the idea.The Grand Magi was a bit of a different story. While he was aware his mages would play less of a role, he was initially skeptical of the program as, even if it were successful, it would even further isolate mages from the rest of the country, and he was not as concerned with the vampire threat as others might be. However, the projections the Engineer and Prince had provided were almost too good to say no to.With the Royal Engineers and Magus cooperating on a plan, the Prince finally presented the idea to the King, the only person standing in the way of the Paladin Project. While just as eager of the Project as the Prince was, the King wasn’t sure as to whether or not he could trust his brother with such a powerful tool in his arsenal, so he approved it under the condition that the Paladins who graduated the program operated under a separate wing of the military that his brother couldn’t touch. Begrudged, the Prince accepted, and the program continued.The basic premise of the program were that willing citizens of Alvastar, willing human citizens of Alvastar to be more specific, were to be transformed into the ultimate tools of war, the soldiers who would bring peace and authority to Alvastar. After a year long training program guided by a year long magical growth, the Paladins would emerge dramatically more powerful.Paladins, physically, are the strongest arsenal the Empire wields. The technological implants they are given at the beginning of the program are tiny pieces of obsidian turbocharged with a growth serum concocted by the Magi. This serum edits all physical flaws with humans, and removes them, allowing for increased muscle growth and dramatically higher potential at their peak, on par with the very top powers the vampires can respond with. The way these chips are inserted create slight interferences to the vocal cords, which give the Paladins a permanent voice filter, making them sound robotic and unable to shout.The growth serum was able to tamper with a few other things, even with a few mental things. The magi were sure to focus on specific parts of the brain, such as the nerves that influence reaction time and slight improvements to night vision.The Royal Engineers were sure to create a uniform to take advantage of the Paladin’s physical dominance. The armour they wear is similar in appearance to what the normal soldiers’ wear- silver and majestic, but it is powered completely differently. Taken the name ‘Power Armour’, it utilizes a delicate blend of basic hydraulics and advanced enchantments to provide increased agility compared to a standard soldier, but more importantly a powerful resistance to magic attacks, as well as the normal protection against sword and gun.IC[??? - Sanctum]Sanctum, as a general rule, was not a place living animals wanted to be. Even its few human visitors doubted the vampires themselves wanted to live there- but, as those visitors were commonly brought there against their will, it is understandable if they have an unpleasant memory of the city. The architecture was a marvel. Sanctum was a blend of large and regal citadels, sprawling suburbs, and of course, the grandiose and egocentric Great Palace. The architecture doesn't make a city, however. What was done with those building could be seen as a crime in Alvastar- for all the beautifully done windows in the city, a good three quarters were completely boarded up, plastered with wood and nails. During the day, the city looked like a ghost town, like a plague had slaughtered the inhabitants. Arguably even worse than that was the temperature. Even during the day, wind chill alone sliced through robe and armour like a blade.All of these added up for a quite unusual sight when a man atop a horse rode along the central street in Sanctum. The horse seemed dead to the cold or the blood on the streets, and although the man's face was hidden by his hood, his posture was perfect and his hand steady.It stopped in front of the Palace. The man, without raising his head, removed his feet from the stirrups and swung his left leg over the horse, hopping off on the right side, and awaited the guards. No skin was visible on his entire person- his ebony hood connected to a cape that stopped at about his calves. His armour had a thin golden trim around a pure obsidian. No weapons were visible on his person but he radiated power regardless. Eventually, the doors to the Palace creaked open, and a pair of armed guards exited, and approached. The figure looked up just slightly, his face still covered by shadow. Good. Something to get me warmed up. Edited January 8, 2012 by ~JC~ Quote 3DS: 3711-9364-3152 PSN: AidecVoros Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Noxryn Posted January 8, 2012 Author Share Posted January 8, 2012 IC - Sanctum Guards -A trio of soldiers clad in black took up a formation, blades drawn and helmets on. Two stood as if statues, watching silently from the sides while the one standing in the center addressed the mystery-man. "State your name and business," he called out, voice tinged with metal as it reverberated throughout his helm. Odds were that they had sent a messenger to inform Alistair of the new arrival, likely in the event things should go sour. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Toast of Awesomeness Posted January 11, 2012 Share Posted January 11, 2012 (edited) OOCDemigods: When a human wizard is born, their body possesses a great store of magical energy, allowing them to do wondrous feats. However, sometimes a wizard is born that cannot manipulate these energies as others can. Instead, the energy stores up and flows into their physical body. Such a wizard is referred to as a "demigod."A demigod possesses a tremendous amount of magical energy, more so than a wizard of comparable age. However, because of something or other, their ability to use this is obstructed. The welled-up energy flows into their physical body, making them stronger, faster, more agile, as well as healing much faster than an ordinary human. (Not wolverine, but little cuts will seal themselves off, bigger ones will clot fast, organs can repair themselves with bed rest. They'll get on their feet quicker than you. However, they can't resurrect.)While demigods vary in their levels of strength in one skill or another, most are around the level of a well-fed vampire. (However, there are stories of demigods ripping bears in half with their hands, or beating 100 soldiers with a club. Most likely, however, these are only stories).Now, while the enhancement of a demigod's body takes some of the magical every, there is still a massive well of it within them which they cannot utilize. To this end, they can lend their energy to another wizard, providing a boost to the type and number of spells such a wizard can accomplish. Having a demigod around can turn the tide in a duel of wizards. However, a demigod must choose to lend you their strength, it's not automatically given to you by proximity.Werewolves:The hunters of the night. The children of the moon. Many names have been applied to lycanthropes throughout the ages, but the most common by far is "werewolf".Lycanthropes are not a species, per se- in fact, they can come from almost any species. They are more akin to those afflicted with a disease, though for most, little suffering is caused by this.The origin of lycanthropy is unknown, but the way it is transmitted is well documented. Upon being bitten by a werewolf on the night of a full moon(but not killed), the disease will be transmitted through the werewolf's saliva into the victim's bloodstream.The wound will heal quicker than normal, but nothing unexplainable. The victim may begin to notice changes, such as heightened senses, growth of hair, or eyes that glint upon reflecting light a certain way.A month from the bite, on the next full moon, the victim will become a werewolf, losing all control and slaughtering all within sight. The afflicted will become a werewolf every full moon from then on, or when sufficiently angered or scared, though moonlight works the best.However, those with the proper mental discipline can gain a measure of control over this, allowing them to become lycans(man-wolves) or giant wolves at will. These werewolves, or noble werewolves, like all lycanthropes, are affected by the moon, their strength waxing and waning as it does. On a new moon, they are little more than humans. Closer to the full moon, they're more than a match for vampires, and on a full moon, though they possess little control, they're killing machines.Noble werewolves have a tad bit less raw strength than lone werewolves, but they make up for it with their control and tendency to work in packs, through a mental link.Becoming a noble werewolf depends solely on the willpower of the individual, but they are quite rare.Any werewolf, in human form, is stronger, faster, more agile, and has better senses than a human, as well as healing faster. These wax and wane in proportion to the moon. While average werewolves can only unlock their full power during the nights of a full moon, noble werewolves can unlock a lesser degree of that power at any time, except a full moon. However, on a full moon, while they possess their most power, they have the least control, and are unable to regain human form when under the influence of the moon.Werewolves age slower than humans, but faster than vampires. Depending on when he was turned, a fifty year old werewolf is around 20 in human terms.ProfilesPlayer Name: ToACharacter Name: Aquilus CaesarAppearance: Aquilus would be considered attractive by most standards- he is tall, standing around 6'3", with short blond hair which hangs messily around his face and deep blue eyes. He usually wears red and gold, the colors of his house, though his armor is a burnished silver color.Age: 22Species: DemigodGender: GuyRank (If applicable): Do the mages have ranks?Weapons: A clockwork shield that can compact into a gauntlet, a one handed sword, and a spear, all enchanted to be quite durable.Abilities/Powers/Specializations: Can function as a magical "battery", superhuman physical abilities and healing factor.Faction (If applicable): The Empire of Alvastar's Mages.Biography: Aquilus was born to the house of Graeca, located on Alvastar's sunny souther coast, inhabited by a number of species, such as humans, centaurs, and satyrs.When he was discovered to not only be a wizard, but even rarer, a demigod, he was sent to the academy, though as a result of his noble heritage his family was granted access to see him, if not often, regularly.Today he is a proud fighter for Graeca and the empire, leading a group of demigods in battle who support and protect the human mages. He wishes nothing less than the destruction of every last vampire in the land.Player Name: ToACharacter Name: Lawrence TrutherAppearance: Lawrence is a large man, not in weight but in build. He stands 6'4" with a massive chest and shoulders, and messy black hair. His eyes are a silvery white color, and his arms are quite built and hairy.Age: 34Species: Human WerewolfGender: GuyRank (If applicable): Pack Leader?Weapons: A bow(with arrows) and sword, which are enchanted with moonlight, making them excellent for killing vampires.Abilities/Powers/Specializations: The abilities of a noble werewolf: strength, speed, agility, senses, and healing factor, all waxing and waning according to the moon, in addition to shifting between man, lycan, and wolf. He's also a pack leader, who can give orders to his pack of nine that they cannot disobey, but rarely uses that, relying on unforced obedience.Faction (If applicable): No factionBiography: Lawrence is a noble werewolf, turned when he was twenty. He struggled for five years to gain control of the monster within him, but finally did it, gaining enough control to be considered "noble", among werewolves. However, werewolves are a misunderstood and hated breed among both vampires and humans, and Lawrence wanted to change that. He set out to form a pack, helping other werewolves to gain control, and bringing them into his new pack. However, when a werewolf did not possess the strength of mind needed, Lawrence would destroy them- he's not content to let murderers run about.In this way, Lawrence's pack acts as both judge and jury among werewolves. If a werewolf cannot, or will not join the pack, they will kill him or her.Soon after he began, Lawrence encountered a fellow noble werewolf, Ezekiel. Ezekiel was a former wizard, and while his magic had been dampened, he had been able to gain control of himself. Ezekiel has enchanted the packs weapons to burn with flameless moonlight, more dangerous than flame to vampires. Lawrence sees vampires as parasites, and will not hesitate to kill them, though he takes a lighter stance to most humans.Lawrence and his pack, currently numbering nine, usually stay in the border zone between the nations, raiding vampire towns and finding new werewolves. However, he has come to find that most werewolves do not possess the strength of will to control themselves, and is beginning to realize why his race has never formed a successful nation. However, he still hopes that one day lycanthropes will be as respected as vampires or humans, and by culling the weak, he fights to make that happen.Misc: Being the pack leader, Lawrence can telepathically communicate with his nine comrades.Player Name: ToACharacter Name: Arian HuenAppearance: Arian is human, dressing in dark clothing and always having a cowl on his shirt. His skin beneath his clothes is covered with the black ceremonial tattoos(the largest a stylized vertical eye over his heart), while twelve circular stones, the runes on them glowing with golden-orange light are set into his right forearm. The one nearest to his elbow is cracked, and the rune no longer glows.His ears are slightly pointed, and his canines are wickedly sharp. His fingernails are pure black and pointed, though not by design.Age: 19Species: Human(mostly....)Gender: GuyRank (If applicable): N/AWeapons: Can summon a long, black sword, but usually relies on his abilities and skills.Abilities/Powers/Specializations: Can call upon the powers of Alizar for fire and darkness magic, heals quite quickly, is much more physically able than any mortal human, and can shapeshifting limitedly- usually growing sharp claws.Faction (If applicable): HimselfBiography: Deep beneath the earth, on another plane of existence live the demons. Magical creatures of darkness and fear, their forms constantly shift according to the fears of humans. There is a spell to summon such creatures, though it is forbidden. Few mages possess the strength necessary to control a demon once summoned, and a demon on earth is a bad thing indeed.When Arian was nearly five, a demon was summoned near his village. Called Alizar, the creature rampaged, destroying parts of the village and killing many.There is no spell to kill a demon or return it to the underworld, so the mages coming to the village decided on another course- to seal the demon to the soul of a child, presumably killing both, but saving many. Arian was chosen, the ceremonial runic tattoos placed on his body, the twelve stones which would serve as seals bonded to his arm. On the eve of his fifth birthday, Alizar was sealed to the boy's soul, and he was buried upon his apparent death.However, one week later he showed up as his home, dirty, his clothes in rags, but the seals burning brightly. The spell had not worked completely- Arian had become a witch-child. His mother, who couldn't bear to kill her son, took him to the great forest, and left him.Somehow, he crossed it, coming upon a farm, who saw only a little boy with strange tattoos, he keeping the seals covered. They raised him as their own, until a night one year ago, when a visiting wise man saw him for what he was, attempting to kill him. In a fit of rage and fear, Arian accidentally broke one of the twelve seals that kept the demon inside, and uncontrollable destroyed the farm. With Alizar's whispers now echoing in his brain, and his body beginning to change, he regained his suppressed memories, and recalled what he was- a witch child, with a monster locked within him.Though he only has access to a small amount of Alizar's abilities, as only one seal has been broken, they are more than adequate for his needs.However, being hated as a monster may necessitate the breaking of another- though Arian dreads the thought of what he may unleash upon the world if he breaks too many seals, and loses control of the demon within.Misc: In times of great peril, Arian can break a seal, giving him full access to Alizar's abilities at the cost of any control whatsoever. However, with every seal broken, his appearance corrupts further, and while his abilities increase, he's that much closer to releasing the demon.Player Name: ToACharacter Name: JimmyAppearance: An eight foot tall humanoid shape with black pits for eyes, composition varies.Age: 5Species: GolemGender: ItRank (If applicable): N/AWeapons: His body, which he can form spikes on and reshape slightly.Abilities/Powers/Specializations: Due to his molecules being constantly in flux, Jimmy can take on the properties of any substance he touches, provided there's enough of it. One sword won't make him metal, but a few sets of armor? That'll do.Faction (If applicable): No one really.Biography: Jimmy was created about five years ago by a wizard experimenting with alchemy. He attempted to create a golem that could become anything, but apparently something went wrong. Jimmy's molecules are constantly in flux, shaping themselves according to what's around them. He can control this to some extent, but he's still highly unpredictable.After the wizard realized what he had created, he couldn't bear to destroy a sentient creature. So, he instead sent Jimmy out with the instructions to "do good."Of course, being quite quite vague, and Jimmy so naive... good is relative.Misc: Jimmy cannot hold a form unless he's surrounded by it. If he turns metal, then walks through the desert, eventually he will be transmuted to sand, regardless of his intentions.Player Name: ToACharacter Name: Magnus TaolAppearance: A black, sealed suit of armor with a skull-like facemask with glowing green eyes.Age: 37Species: formerly Human WizardGender: MaleRank (If applicable): N/AWeapons: Nothing usually considered oneAbilities/Powers/Specializations: Magnus is very magically powerful, more so than most wizards. He specializes in pyrokinesis, telepathy, telekinesis, and portal creation.Faction (If applicable): Nominally AlvastarBiography: Magnus was a talented wizard, one of the brightest and most skilled- but naive. In his quest for more power, he discovered a way to draw extra energy from one's body- or do he thought. When he cast the incantation, his body was destroyed, transmuted into only an energized green gas. Luckily, he was able to flow into a nearby jar before he dispersed, but all attempts to undo his spell have proved fruitless. However, the spell did work somewhat, granting him a very large store of energy- think every atom of his body energy- and he has learned to speak by vibrating his molecules, as well as see and hear by magic. A sealed suit of armor was constructed to house his essence and protect it from dispersion.Though he's still a member of the empire's magi, he mostly serves his own ends, seeking a way to return to his past form- or perhaps gain the throne.Misc: While Magnus is a skilled mage and accomplished fighter, if you can get a hole in his armor, he'll have to focus on sealing it do he doesn't disperse and die.IC- Magi's TowerA repetitive clanking sound echoed thought the tower as the armored being strode through the hall.Perhaps, though Magnus, being wasn't exactly the word for what he was anymore.No matter. He continued on, stopping at an overhand. He stepped out, and looked over the rail at the magicians training below. They were each attempting to light a target on fire- of course, it couldn't be that easy. An obstacle course was set before them, requiring skill and ingenuity, both magical and physical to complete. Once they reached their target, a wet bag full of straw on a stick, they had to attempt to incinerate it from a distance to twenty feet- while a more experienced magician applied effort to stop them.Magnus saw a few flare up, as the initiatives' faces contorted with exertion. A wizard's duel was no place to get sloppy. One of the trainees collapsed, his bag barely smoking. Had Magnus still been human, he would have shaken his head.He did not teach the trainees- the council assumed he might be a bad example. After all, it was his mistaken spell that had resulted in his current form. So they had placed him as an elder magi, one who had little interaction with the initiates, but instead served as a warning to stay within your limits.His armor creaked slightly as he turned around to exit, but stopped suddenly. He looked at the row of older mages, who kept the bags from burning while the initiates struggled.All ten of these older mages suddenly found themselves flying backwards a few yards, landing on their rear ends as the bags instantly caught alight. The tension eased off the magicians' faces, followed by concern for their teacher.A deep, metallic chuckle sounded in Magnus' throat as he walked away.IC- Western EmpireThe bartender looked cautiously up at the hooded figure who entered the building, glancing at the knife under his bar. Svein's Tavern, on the edge of the empire's territory, had seen trouble before- but tonight he was packed, and these were loyal customers. If this stranger was to try anything, he'd pay for it.The young man walked up as Svein studied him. A navy blue scarf covered his face, while a black cowl his most of his hair. He wore a dark grey, long sleeved tunic with gloves and pants, hiding most of his body.The skin he could see on the face wasn't too pale, but there was something about him... Maybe the eyes.The stranger set a bag of money on the counter."I'd like food and a room for the night."Svein appraised him."You're a dhampyr?""No, just a traveler... Will this cover it?""Take the scarf off."With a sigh, the young man threw his hood back, revealing long black hair that covered his ears. He took off his scarf and smiled. The canines were somewhat pointed.... But hey, he'd seen stranger things. This boy didn't look too much like a Dhampyr, he looked to be unarmed(must've been crazy, out here), and he was only a boy."Alright. Food'll be out in a moment. I'll bring the key to your room then. Don't cause us any trouble."The boy gave a curt nod, and turned towards an empty booth in the corner.Svein felt a chill go down his spine as the boy walked away, but shook it off.Business was business.IC- Southern EmpireThe moon was half full in the sky- not perfect, but it was good enough for the pack. Three giant wolves, big as horses, slinked down the slope towards an old cottage.They'd been tracking this lycan for two weeks, having heard tell of him in the next town over. Apparently he'd been living in this area for a few years, and every month was the same- livestock destroyed and missing people- or bloody carcasses.That would end soon, one way or the other. They reached the door, and lifted up off their front legs as the wolves changed forms, back to black-clad men. The leader knocked, to no answer. Upon opening the door, a stench of old blood and rotted meat hit them, causing their noses to recoil as it hit their advanced senses. The werewolf on the left held up his hand, and a ball of silvery light formed, illuminating the room.Crouched in the corner, golden eyes glaring, was a man. He was dirty and unkempt, with ripped, stained clothes, matted hair, and smelling like last week's game.Lawrence stepped forward, and held out his hand."Greetings, brother. I'm Lawrence-"The man snarled, and leapt at the other werewolf from across the room, mouth open to reveal a set of wolf-like canines. Lawrence shifted position quickly, causing the man to land on the floor, where he stayed down thanks to the foot on his back."Ahem. A bit rude, that. So, you're the one that's been causing all thus trouble?"A muffled "Yes," came from underneath him."Well, my friend," began Lawrence as his companions assumed their wolf forms in view of the man."We're here to help."OOCI'm not sure where to stick Jimmy in, and I'm too tired to write a decent post for Aquilus right now. Well, I'm open if anyone wants interaction. Edited January 11, 2012 by Toast of Awesomeness Quote Well, would you just look at that? I'm a piece of toast. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Xomeron Posted January 11, 2012 Share Posted January 11, 2012 It'd be nice for my Faerie Boy in Vidian to have something to do. Quote That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.-Rover "A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat.""The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archer Vonn Posted January 11, 2012 Share Posted January 11, 2012 third time writing this IC and i'm oooooout.@maybe at best third prince twice removed of shadows: i'd suggest heading off to veils, my own story arc is looking for people soon as vayrael's done. that goes for anybody, actually.IC[??? - Sanctum]"Hark, good sirs, if you are wise. My words are far more important than any of your lives."Contrary to his poetic words, the figure's tone was dark and raspy, as if he were frying his voice. The stance he was locked in was a power stance, as he spoke he never moved from it. His feet were shoulder width apart, and his arms were similarly displaced. "Now, awaiting my prescence is Alistair Alverlain, be he aware or not, let me pass chamberlains."At this point he abandoned his persona as a statue and folded his arms, apparently not as immune to the cold as he had otherwise suggested. As his footsteps echoed, signalling his transecdance of the stairs, the lower ranking of the few guards each stepped aside, but standing at the top of the stairs was the high officer, who was clearly unimpressed with the figure's performance. The figure stopped, and smiled under his hood. "Now sir, I'd suggest not ending up like my horse."As the officer turned to look for the equestrian that had simply vanished into the air, the figure pushed open the doors to the Palace. Quote 3DS: 3711-9364-3152 PSN: AidecVoros Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Xomeron Posted January 11, 2012 Share Posted January 11, 2012 IC:Evenstar withdrew the glassy blade from his victim's body, and wiped it clean with a cloth he kept for such a purpose, crimson blood dripping off the smooth blade. Below him lay a young vampire girl; she looked around fourteen, though it was hard to tell, as Evenstar was still new to these Vampires. Did they maintain eternal youth through their feeding, as the Fair Folk did?The girl's soul was dull and bland, like the soul of every Vampire Evenstar had yet tasted. It was nowhere near the quality of a human soul-probably the result of the atrocious acts such creatures committed, if not for the disease itself."I've had enough of this wretched city"Evenstar thought. "Time to return to human realms and towns." Quote That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.-Rover "A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat.""The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wyrd Bid Ful Araed Posted January 11, 2012 Share Posted January 11, 2012 @maybe at best third prince twice removed of shadows: i'd suggest heading off to veils, my own story arc is looking for people soon as vayrael's done. that goes for anybody, actually.OOC: I'll sned Gisabelle along that way thenIC: Having received passage up to Asona, the Lady de Moahwr was now on a ship of steam and air. It was billowing its way through the skies of the empire, a carriage under a giant balloon, on its way to Veils, the great capital. It would be setting down about halfway through the journey to take on additional supplies and gasOOC: You could have one of your characters join her ToA. Arian would probably get on well given they share a few similar traits. Alternatively, go to Orrheim and seek the elusive Red Masque Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Noxryn Posted January 12, 2012 Author Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC:- Alistair Alverlain, Sanctum -When the doors were pushed open to the palace, Alistair happened to be standing only just down the hall, a complacent expression upon his pale visage. The vampyrian lord wore dark colored robes, his raven black hair flowing down to his shoulder-blades -- quite a stately appearance, if there ever was one; not a look of raw power, but instead of an elegance."Don't threaten my soldiers," Alistair stated quietly, a glass of red liquid held haphazardly in one hand as he looked at the individual. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archer Vonn Posted January 12, 2012 Share Posted January 12, 2012 you can probably also go ahead and post the finale of vayrael's time in the spotlight while your on.IC[??? - Sanctum]"Perhaps aware was an adjective appropriate; if that be your will, sir, then so be it." Was the raspy reply. Arms still folded, he pressed towards his mark. He made no threatening gestures, nothing to spook the Lord of Vampires, but simply calmly approached, face hidden all the while. When Alistair was within arms reach he made no motion to stop but instead kept walking past the leader of all that wasn't right, suggesting for Alistair to follow him. "We are similar, you and I. Far easier than most for us to touch the sky. Now take what I say with the utmost of seriousness, for I think that the two of us can work together, to do business." Quote 3DS: 3711-9364-3152 PSN: AidecVoros Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Xomeron Posted January 12, 2012 Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC:Leaving the city was trivial for Evenstar. No need to even use magic; he simply held himself with an air of authority, standing as tall as he could, and demanded he be allowed passage through the gate. The guard had let him through, of course; someone so assured of his authority had to be important. Once Evenstar was ought of the guard's sight, he took to the skies. Flight held no particular enjoyment for him; bouncing along on air currents was a challenge for him, and it required focus. But flight was the fastest, if the most conspicuous, way to travel. Quote That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.-Rover "A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat.""The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Noxryn Posted January 12, 2012 Author Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC:- Alistair Alverlain -"You seem to enjoy disregarding standard courtesy, but I'll listen. Whether or not I can do something, however; is not for me to say at this time, and if you make a request of something utterly obnoxious and won't back down, I can, and will, kill you if I must," Alistair replied quietly, turning about and following the individual. "I'm sure you know me by name, and so I wish to know yours," the question was much less that, more a statement -- a demand.IC:- Vayrael, The Assassination Plot -Night had fallen, obscuring the city in darkness with only the beggars, paupers and marauders out and about during the ungodly hours. Some lights happened to be on, a few streetlamps running off aetheric energy casting a warm glow over the streets.“Gavin, prepare Nameless to pick me up in ten minutes,” Vayrael’s smooth, casual voice easily resisted the buffeting wind as he spoke into a small device attached to the cuff of his sleeve, turning it so the wind would not cause any audio interference. The dhampyr waited not for a response, simply flicking his arm back down to his side, using his other hand to unbutton his jacket. The movements were slow, almost as if he was preparing himself for a funeral instead of an assassination, though; he knew that he would be seeing many soldiers at the nth of the consecration of their souls to the Aethereal, and even he gave a silent prayer to those whose blood he must spill.To end the reign of a tyrant, to end the first chapter of oppression and to, even in my position, further the salvation of this world, whether they know it or not. Forgive me, Mother, for the measures I must, and most likely will, take. Judge them mercifully, for they know not what they’ve done.Slowly his hands reached into the depths of his jacket, crossing in front of his chest and holding down his crimson cravat before letting the wind throw it once more into disarray, as he removed his hands. In each he held a sizeable weapon – unique and fearsome, designed for the hands of a powerful dhampyr and not that of the physically inferior human, nor the lowly vampire. One held the color of purity, a blinding white with the etchings of a name, fanciful lettering, stretching along the rectangular casing that held the barrel in place, and also acted as an exterior protection for the cylinder – this weapon read, “Alpha.” His other hand held an identical weapon the color of darkness, white lettering detailing it just as it did Alpha, though this weapon’s name supplemented the other’s as “Omega.” Even for a dhampyr like himself they were hefty beasts, easily dwarfing the common revolver circulated amongst many a human, the barrel alone 12 centimeters long with a cylinder that looked like it contained massive rounds, 13mm would be the expert gunsmith’s guess. More than enough firepower to tear through armor, as he expected to face, and more than enough firepower to end a fight in one shot. For a human, the massive kickback from just one of the weapons would shatter a wrist, the weapon likely taking a finger as it flung back and smashed its operator in the face, but for a dhampyr of Vayreal’s scale, it was as useable as the common day revolver. “Forgive me my Mother, for the carnage your Merciful Judgment shall wreak on this dreariest of days. Forgive me my Mother, for the pain I shall wrought upon the heads of my enemy’s subjects, and please my Mother, protect their families ‘till the day they die and allow any of their ill will and woe fall upon the head of your pawn, Vayrael.” The dhampyr fell silent, his eyes still closed to the wind that carelessly whipped his ebony jacket about his slender form; he paid no heed to how the wind would toss his sapphire hair so carelessly for his entire mind, heart and soul was focused on the words he had just spoken to an invisible listener.Then he jumped.A jump from a dhampyr like Vayrael held far more power than that of a human, and arguably that of a vampire – the sign of an accomplished dhampyr, with perhaps the blood of a powerful vampire lineage coursing through his veins. The force alone ripped shingles from the roof, shaking the tower to the core, and before anyone could ascertain the black streak across the nighttime sky, it was already gone. Crashed, Vayrael did, through a stained glass window – right into an empty temple to Alvastar, this particular room of worship located directly within the palace. The colored shards of glass glittered dimly in the beautiful silver light of the moon and her stars, as if tears shed from the heavens themselves.“What was that?”“I… I don’t know, get your weapons ready and comb the room for what caused that crash!”“It’s pitch black in there sir, shouldn’t we get a torch… or something?”“No time! We’re His Majesty’s guard! We can’t let a potential threat escape while we fiddle with light! Now, get in there!”“Yessir!”To kill a KingVayrael could hear the voices easily. There were at least four soldiers, judging from the amount of movement and readying of weapons he could hear. One was a novice, likely a new recruit, while the other held the voice of a seasoned sergeant. The other two he could not place such labels upon, and instead decided to figure them battle-hardened, for they had not so readily questioned the sergeant’s orders as the young lad had.Vayrael landed on one knee, fist to the floor, body bent forwards and eyes on the ground directly in front of the altar to Alvastar. The sword strapped to his back seemed to meld into the shadows with the rest of Vayrael’s black coat, and as he slowly stood up, eyes closed, he could hear the surprised movements of the soldiers, their quickened breathing, and he could hear their heart rate climb steadily. They had not expected someone to actually be in the room, nor had they expected that someone to simply stand up as if nothing had transpired.“O-On the ground! By the authority invested in His Majesty’s Royal Guard, I command you to yield!” The sergeant was the one calling out, the short stutter only evidence to Vayrael that he had not expected an actual intruder.“Forgive me good sir, but I cannot yield as I have been employed to dispatch the King. I cannot yield until my contract has been fulfilled, and while under the command of my employer, I will not show mercy. Please, surrender now and save your lives, or understand that while noble a stand would be, it would only be a fruitless delay in my schedule,” Vayrael quietly said, the brim of his hat coming down below his closed eye, the other still under a layer of his blue hair and under the black cloth. The sergeant took notice of the cloth covering Vayrael’s eye – his skin was so pale it stood out like a sore thumb, even in this darkness.He can be wounded, we have him outnumbered… this must be a bluff, nyerking dhampyrs…“Soldiers!” The sergeant raised his metal armored hand, his grizzled face barely visible in the dim lighting from the moon, “Open fire!” As the sergeant let his arm fall, the room filled with the sounds of rifles firing – fully automatic fire, such rounds difficult for even the most seasoned vampire warrior to dodge, let alone a dhampyr. The poignant stench of lead and smoke filled the air as the guns went off, and only after a solid minute of firing, the sergeant called for the soldiers to cease in order to survey the damage currently obscured by the blackness of the room and the weight of the smoke upon his seasoned, emerald eyes.Suddenly an explosion of light. And then another. And another. Deafening roars followed the brief flashes of light, forcing the sergeant to cover his ears lest the sound explode his ear drums, falling to his knees out of reflex. “The blazes was that!?” He shouted, looking frantically into the darkness. “Roy!? Ravenhart!? Jackson!? Report!”There were no responses, only a heavy silence to the frantic command. Then, suddenly, the sergeant looked up and nearly screamed, his throat going dry far too fast for such a function to be viable. A single, glowing red eye stared at him through the darkness, locking his gaze and peering into what, to him, felt like his very soul. If he had to describe it, he’d only refer to it as a stare befitting only the most fearsome of demons. The voice that accompanied the eye felt cold, chilling, and it made him want to cry – a seasoned veteran of war, who had watched his own comrades get ripped to pieces by vampires, eaten by werewolves, impaled by monsters, cry.“I gave you two options, sergeant,” the silence that followed sounded calculated, only serving to instill further fear, “I am sorry, but I cannot revert your actions, though do take solace in that I shan’t feast upon those I have killed here,” before the sergeant could respond, that familiar light overtook his eyesight, the deafening roar never met his ears. Vayrael’s voice took on a warmer, more human tone once again, “I hope beyond hope, that perhaps you can forgive me one day good sergeant. Your stance, while noble, would have most likely changed if you knew who I am,” Vayrael had kneeled over the corpse, choosing to close his eye to the horrific carnage – the sergeant’s head, it had simply been exploded after taking the round point blank. The room was a bloody mess; Vayrael could see it in all of its macabre glory despite the lack of light. “It pains me to use these bullets, if only because of this messy ending,” he spoke softly to himself, standing back up and straightening his jacket. “Mother, I request that you circumvent the further necessity for slaughter,” he added quietly, slowly walking out of the room, moving at a calm, casual pace. Even Vayrael’s expression held a look of disconnection, of emotional coldness despite what fluttered through his heart. He held his weapons down at his sides, the barrels pointed to the floor as if they too held a sorrowful heart.Choosing to take it upon himself to avoid further detection, Vayrael tapped into his vampyric power and walked up the wall and on the ceiling, even his clothes and hair seeming to defy gravity. Such an ability was incredibly hard for even the most adept nobles to achieve, due to the amount of concentration that was needed, as well as a knack for manipulating aether – an energy that many associated with the spirit world, also known as the Aethereal Plane. Magicians could call upon the powers that leaked in from the aether to take on mystical forms and shapes, such as fire, ice, water, explosions, even living deities – however; advanced uses of aether are rarely seen, due to what could be unleashed. Suffice to say, dhampyrs and vampires are rarely seen as able to manipulate aether. Even upon the ceiling Vayrael kept his slow, casual gait. He knew precisely where he was going, even though he never truly set foot into the palace before. Below him soldiers patrolled the hallways, a patrol would likely come upon the devastated room eventually, but Vayrael had shut the doors and doubted that going within the confines of the temple was part of the normal route, due to the lack of lights. He had time.After walking for what felt an eternity, Vayrael came upon a closed door, one that stretched to the heights of the ceiling.He could smell him. Hear his heart beating beneath those expensive robes. The musky scent of a man who had been working throughout the day, non-stop; of a man who had gone to the outdoors while dressed far too warmly. Most of all, Vayrael could taste the aetheric essence that dripped off the king, the dhampyr thinking it likely due to him being around his court mages for so long, though their presence was missing. A peculiar fact.Vayrael dropped down to the ground, landing on his feet as quietly and nimbly as a jungle cat. He still held his guns within his gloved hands, the golden light that filled the hallway from the top of the cavernous ceiling reflecting dully off his clothing, adding a strange glow to his face and hair. Gently, he placed his hands upon the wooden surface of the carved, massive doubledoors that lead into the king’s quarters. Normally, multiple men would have to open the heavy doors, but Vayrael pushed them open with hardly any effort, walking in as if an invited guest.“So, you’re the dhampyr assassin hired to kill me, eh?” The voice of the king was weary, it sounded as if it belonged to a man of extraordinary age and not your simple human. “Didn’t take you too long to get here, though I have a feeling you walked. Please know, I won’t go down without a fight, dhampyr,” he chuckled as a jubilant grandfather would at the antics of an eight year old, all while spitting the word “dhampyr” as if it were inherently an insult of the worst kind.A bullet tore through his back mercilessly, exploding inside of the man’s chest and blasting its contents upon the beautiful chestnut desk. For a long few moments, only the sound of slick blood dripping to the floor in puddles filled the air, then a clacking of soles upon the marble floor as Vayrael took a few tentative steps forwards, Omega raised, smoke curling up from the barrel. The man had fallen face first to his desk, his arms hanging limply to his sides, a quill slowly floating down, the white feather forever stained in blood.“So, the King is dead,” Vayrael muttered to himself, sliding his weapons back into his coat and doing a pinpoint about face, heading for the door without a second thought.A sharp pain tore through his chest, his back felt as if it had been set ablaze, and he immediately knew why. A wickedly sharp blade protruded from where his heart was, piercing the delicate organ. With surprise in his crimson eye, he stared at the pale blade as his rose-red blood slowly dripped to the floor, coating the immaculate silver blade. He yelled as he felt more blades impale him, a force far more powerful than what the best of vampires could offer, throwing him straight at the wall, his body smashing into the stone, shattering the rock to the ground, his bloody body falling to the floor in a messy heap of liquid crimson, cloth and rock.“I sayeth to thee: face to the floor and so you shall serve me, forevermore,” the man who called himself Lucian looked absolutely immaculate, no trace of blood ever having touched his desk, his clothes – no hole in his chest, no sign that any of that had ever transpired. An inhuman smile graced the human’s once kingly face, the entire form slowly morphing and changing before Vayrael’s shocked, wide open eye. “And so I, the Six Pointed Star, Valkyrian Archon of Alvastar, hath saith on the day of Consecration at the dawn of my Creation,” a young man stood where the king had once been, raven black hair falling to his shoulders delicately. His skin seemed to radiate light, his face more beautiful than the legends could have ever prepared for someone. Vayrael’s eye felt lost in a trance, staring into those immaculate chestnut brown eyes, to that defined jaw and to those red, full lips. To any mortal, the image of a valkyr was incapacitating in beauty, just as the image of a Fallen was incapacitating in terror. For Vayrael, it had effectively distracted him, even the fire of pain welling in his chest could be mistaken as a sensation of pleasure.Vayrael coughed, blood dribbling out from between his lips, pooling onto the ground by his head as it lay upon the floor, thrusting his brain back into reality. “Pain… I almost forgot… what it felt like, good job… valkyr,” he stated quietly, “but… a dog… cannot kill me,” one of Vayrael’s hands reached for the cloth that bound his left eye, a bloody, intoxicated smile falling upon his lips as he ripped the cloth away and let it fall. He opened his right eye for the first time in centuries, and the valkyr’s expression of triumph fell to one of shock, of surprise.“That seal…” his handsome, smooth voice wavered, his body frozen in a stupor of what slowly became horror. “You… you’re…”The seal within Vayrael’s eye depicted an ouroboros wrapped around the inverted pentacle, a reference of Illidian’s assertion that perfection will never exist upon the mortal world, for such a thing is impossible to achieve. In many respects, Illidian had also asserted that the opposite be true, and the valkyr recognized this immediately.“The snake that eats its own tail… the bird that must devour its own wings, if it wishes to fly once more… you’re… that… that monster,”Vayrael gently put a hand over his left eye, closing his right one as he began to speak in a mechanical monotone. “Requesting release of restriction level three first sequence, limited removal of restrictions for limited use for Situation Alpha, until the designated target – the Six Pointed Star of Alvastar – is forever silenced,” as Vayrael spoke, a strange aura developed around his body, made up of a red and black aether that belonged to a species believed myth. The valkyr had expected an accomplished dhampyr, but to face one of those monsters … one with the seal of Illidian herself, one whose abilities needed such an intricate, such a powerful seal to be contained, he had never thought this day possible.“My request has been approved, commencing the Vladimir Invocation,” the aura grew more powerful, more fierce. Slowly it sucked itself into Vayrael’s body: an endless stream of red and black aether energy – directly absorbed by anything, no mortal knew what would happen. In Vayrael’s case, however, his mortal body had been granted immortality, it had been brought to a different level of existence only valkyr and the Gods could know of, not even the previous Vampyrian Lord could comprehend this aetheric event.His eyes shot open so violently the valkyr involuntarily stepped back, they were blazing red and full of malice, full of hate and yet love, full of pain and joy, full of so many contradictions that he simply looked psychotic. The seal in his right eye had receded slightly, the tail of the snake only passing the first point of the five-pointed star in his eye. Without any effort whatsoever, Vayrael pulled himself to his feet, his jacket dragging its bloody self across the messy floor and as he stood, Vayrael had caught himself chuckling so darkly that even a werewolf would think twice before attacking.“Perfection is Imperfection, hate manifests from love, pain from joy – everything held in balance, yet perfection can never be known, for there is no balance,” Vayrael spoke as if reciting something he had been taught as a child, “the words of Illidian’s Archon,” he said gently. The aetheric energy lanced about his form, his eyes glowing a pure red, holding an almost beastial quality to them, while all of his teeth lengthened into razors, his lips turning a black color. Vayrael even removed his gloves, allowing his black nails to grow into sharpened points – as hard as talons, as sharp as the grandest sword. A similar seal glowed upon the back of his hands, a fierce red. The blades that had once been embedded into his body had simply dissolved into aether energy, which then flowed into his slightly altered and healed body. His ears had also gone into points, similar to that of an elf, but they flowed like the wings of a bat. Slowly, what remained of the aether energy shifted into two identical shapes, eventually solidifying into a pair of midnight black wings, absolutely beautiful, the ebony feathers contrasting with the valkyr’s white ones.“So… this… is the real Vayrael, is it?” The valkyr quietly asked, his expression becoming more serious, more determined than it had before.“Heh, no… no, this is just a shadow of what I used to be… if you saw the real me… well, I’ll tell you that even Alvastar seemed pretty shaken up,” Vayrael’s demonic smile felt forever implanted into the mind of the valkyr. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you Archliel?” Vayrael stabbed one of his fingers into his pale hand, tearing open a wound that bled a black and red substance. As the liquefied aether dripped, the drops stopped mid-air and dragged themselves together, forming a beautiful sword, a blade of a violent, fierce beauty.The valkyr drew his own blade, a purely white construct that reverberated with a power the magi would only dream of handling. Both blades were divine in nature, Vayrael’s being a blade granted to the archons of Illidian, while Archliel’s had been blessed for the archons of Alvastar. The only weapons known that could kill something truly immortal, something truly not of this world.They moved faster than any eye could hope to follow, leaving static afterimages in their wake to any mortal observer – even vampyrian onlookers. Each time their blades met a thunderous roar ripped throughout the room, shaking the walls, shaking the books and papers, yet no one seemed alerted by the duel. As Archliel struck downwards, Vayrael used a wing to shield his body, the blade bouncing off the hardened feathers, Vayrael counterstriking, earning a yell of pain from the valkyr as his blade cleaved through the valkyr’s lower abdomen.“It’s sad that I must destroy something so beautiful,” he said as they crossed blades, faces inches from one another. Archliel’s expression held disbelief and rage, while Vayrael’s held malevolent joy. They pushed away from each other for what seemed like the millionth time, though Vayrael seemed as if he was toying with the valkyr, instead of putting forth any true effort to kill it.“How can someone like you… someone so disgraced, hated by his own peers, even have the will to fight anymore? You lost everything! Your wings, while a replacement is here, are not what they were – they’re ugly compared to the old pair, as hideous as your kin has become since the Great Betrayal, since the schism – and you, how do live as a sub-par dhampyr… everyone even hates you as a dhampyr, let alone if they knew you for what you really are!” The valkyr yelled, floating in the air, Vayrael at the same altitude and across from him. To any mortal, this would have been an iconic battle for the books, where the chained Demon fought against the magnificent Angel. To the two, it was only as natural as what would happen if a human crossed a vampire.Vayrael’s face seemed to contort back into an expression that truly showed the real Vayrael, the one buried beneath the aetheric influence, “I can live the way I can, for I am the most free when shackled. Day to day, I am surrounded by those who love me like a brother, and vice-versa. I have created my own family – the betrayals of my past no longer haunt me, the punishments of the present empower me. Unlike you, valkyr, I know what it is like to be mortal… and even though you and the Gods may think different, mortals have it so much better than we, they have something to live for,” Vayrael’s lips contorted back into that cruel smile as he launched himself once more at the valkyr.Back and forth they went, their bodies moving with the grace of master swordsmen, weapons smashing against each other in a shower of sparks, their forms moving in sync with one another. It was a beautiful dance, a breathtaking dance, one that could never be rivaled by their mortal counterparts. Feathers would fall, floating to the earth every now and again, black mixing with white, white with black. Both fought for their own ideals and wishes, bringing out the best that this valkyr, and this monster, had to offer.With a powerful attack from Vayrael, the dhampyric being wrenched Archliel’s sword away from him, the white weapon flying through the air before it embedded itself into the stone wall. With a flick of the wrist, Vayrael pointed his blade at Archliel’s neck, slowly letting it fall to his chest.“Goodnight, Six Pointed Star, Archon Archliel,” he said quietly, thrusting the wicked blade all the way through Archliel’s chest. The valkyr gasped in shock and horror, body curving around the blow, his head resting involuntarily on Vayrael’s shoulder, in both pain and awe. “I am sorry that you are as you are, it was not your fault,” Vayrael finished, wrenching his blade free and watching as the archon’s body fell to the earth, aether bleeding out of the wound as if blood. A harsh pain shot through Vayrael’s left eye, causing the manifested weapon to disappear and his hand to grip his head as his wings once more vanished, as his body reverted back to normal – indistinguishable from any dhampyr.He picked up the cloth he had wrapped around his eye and did so once again, also picking up his hat and placing it firmly back onto his head. “A valkyr… masquerading as King… just what is going on,” he thought aloud to himself as he looked back at the corpse, knowing that there would be a patrol in the room soon enough. “Gavin, I hope you’re in position, or what I’m about to do will seem really stupid,” he quietly spoke into the device on his collar.“Don’t worry about Vay, we’re here, just do your thing,”Vayrael smiled, “thanks,” and without second guessing his actions, he ran directly at the window that lead out onto the balcony , smashing right through it, the shards of glass unable to pierce through his clothing, gloves, or hat. He landed upon the top of the Nameless, the vessel of the Sky Raiders. “Let’s head out towards one of the settlements that borders the vampyrian empire, we are now fugitives of the highest caliber here. And Gavin, you collected payment, right?”“Course sir, and out we go,” Gavin replied through the device, the massive ship blending in neatly with the sky, heading towards the border of the two empires.As the airship turned about, heading towards the Alverlainian Empire, soldiers, guards, even paladins began to take to the streets in hopes of readying defense systems in time to shoot down the airship. None would be successful, and even as all of this went on signs were being posted for the head of the Sky Raider's leader -- no image, no name, just a description of the airship as well as the description of the crime. The reward for capture, or murder, was currently listed at one million, with promises of other opulent lavishings to be added to any who could bring the Captain to justice for his crimes against the empire. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Toast of Awesomeness Posted January 12, 2012 Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC It was still dark outside the tavern when Arian left.He made his way to the stables, where he "borrowed" a horse, leaving the one he had taken from the last tavern. It ought to make up for the theft- he simply needed a fresh mount. After changing saddles, he mounted the beast and began to ride heading towards the nearest town.And so it was, a few days later, that he found himself on an airship bound for Veils. He had heard of the city, and always wanted to visit, but never had the chance. The guards would be tougher there, and if he found himself in a fight...No matter. He'd been running for long enough. It was time to relax a little.OOCHe's with you, TPTI.Slink, what level of technology are we at? ICAs Even star flew near the edge of the unholy empire, he would notice a shuffling figure made of stone, we're he to look down. The golem looked up, unblinking stone eyes seeing the fae, and waved. Quote Well, would you just look at that? I'm a piece of toast. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Noxryn Posted January 12, 2012 Author Share Posted January 12, 2012 Slink, what level of technology are we at? Roughly technology that would exist during the late 1880's, though things like radio systems are viable if there's a suitable source of power (ie: on an airship), though such devices run off aetheric energy (which is also what magic users manipulate to create spells, though I never made too much of a note of it as it's currently not an important detail and I'm working out a section for it), and not electricity. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archer Vonn Posted January 12, 2012 Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC: - Alistair Alverlain -"You seem to enjoy disregarding standard courtesy, but I'll listen. Whether or not I can do something, however; is not for me to say at this time, and if you make a request of something utterly obnoxious and won't back down, I can, and will, kill you if I must," Alistair replied quietly, turning about and following the individual. "I'm sure you know me by name, and so I wish to know yours," the question was much less that, more a statement -- a demand.it's been quite an apt analogy to say this RPG is essentially skyrim with guns, airships, and trains. transportation is more advanced, and quite literally the only steampunk element of this rpg, but otherwise it's still a sword and spell rpg, even if rifle and spell is more accurate.spink, god, that IC was terrifying.IC[??? - Sanctum]"Alistair makes both a poor point and a best, but I'm afraid that, were you to attack, even you're skills would be put to the test. But as you also asked me upon the subject of my name; I go by few but one, and that one is Bane."He paused at this point, continuing his stride, allowing Alistair's reaction to gauge where he'd go next in the conversation. After accepting that no response was coming and he was just as unknown as he'd wanted to be, he cleared his throat. "Now, I propose we activate a domino. I ask for a small sample of what will end in chaos that I already know. It'll push what we both hate into a fire. What would you say, if I said that five of your soldiers could destroy the entire Alvastarian Empire?" Quote 3DS: 3711-9364-3152 PSN: AidecVoros Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Noxryn Posted January 12, 2012 Author Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC:- Alistair Alverlain -"Under normal circumstances, I would refer to you as a moron for saying something that comes off as so arrogant. But you haven't relayed a plan for me to hear, so I'm not accepting until I know what sort of risk those lives would be in, and whether or not it'd be a foolish venture that would end in their deaths," Alistair responded, his tone sprinkled with a feeling of drudgery at the exchange. "So, what is your plan, Bane? How do you intend to, essentially, destroy an entire empire with but a handful of soldiers? Especially an empire that plays host to some... particularly dangerous individuals, on all sides of this messy spectrum of war," Alistair added, his crimson eyes boring holes into Bane, his expression having gone from one of a bored ruler, to a serious man. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Xomeron Posted January 12, 2012 Share Posted January 12, 2012 OOC: Evenstar is one word. :PIC:Evenstar's landing was graceful, barely leaving a mark on the grass as his slim, small form touched down on the ground. His glassy blade hung at his waist, but a thin film of frost covered his left hand."Are you alive?" He asked bluntly. He was measuring the golem with his eyes; he figured he could outrun it, and it didn't seem to be flight capable. Quote That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.-Rover "A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat.""The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archer Vonn Posted January 12, 2012 Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC[bane - Sanctum]"Your attention I seem to have grasped, as I figured wouldn't be a difficult task. You ask for a plan which I'm afraid I cannot disclose, but your soldiers lives would be safe and that you can know." Unmoved or just unaware of Alistair baring a hole in his head, Bane continued his lackadaisical stride, as if this were just a nonchalant conversation between two poker buddies. "As you can imagine this would not be a head on assault. Veils alone is a bloody military cult. I have a domino effect set into place, I cannot disclose much, but I can assure you it has a royal face." Quote 3DS: 3711-9364-3152 PSN: AidecVoros Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Noxryn Posted January 12, 2012 Author Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC:- Alistair Alverlain -"If they do not return alive, Bane, I'll have your head. And, I'll lop it off myself. Unless you end up dead in the struggle," Alistair responded, "is there a particular set of soldiers you need?" Alistair asked his question, feeling as if he was working against his better judgment, but he would have felt graced with the empire in some sort of disarray for a time. "I have other business to tend to, so if you make your reply quick and to the point, it would be appreciated." Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archer Vonn Posted January 12, 2012 Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC[bane - Sanctum]"Progress, good, it's best if I wasn't here long. And no, to say I need specifics would be wrong. I assure you, there will be no blood on my hands." At this point, he stopped. "In one weeks time, your men will be mine. There is a city in Alvastar, called Cyrodill's Red. It is a town of mining, yet its economics are dead. On the sunset seven days from now, I shall meet your soldiers at the southernmost bow."Then, like his horse, he was gone. Quote 3DS: 3711-9364-3152 PSN: AidecVoros Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Toast of Awesomeness Posted January 12, 2012 Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC: The golem shrugged, and waved again."I'm Jimmy," it said in a deep, but oddly childlike voice. Quote Well, would you just look at that? I'm a piece of toast. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wyrd Bid Ful Araed Posted January 12, 2012 Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC: The airship's lowest deck was an observation room. The floor was reinforced glass, allowing passengers to look at the ground sliding away beneath them. This is where Gisabelle de Moahwr now stood, watching rolling hills pass underneath the airship like pebbles beneath her feet.She was trying not to look at one of the other passengers in the observation deck. The slight glow coming from his right arm rendered his shirt-sleeve partially transparent, and she could see the runes beneath it. She recognised them, variations of the spellcraft the Sibodh used. But this fellow was no Sibodh. She knew them all, and she did not recognise him. She wasn't entirely sure what he was... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Toast of Awesomeness Posted January 12, 2012 Share Posted January 12, 2012 IC: Arian saw the woman staring at him, and glanced at her, raising an eyebrow questioningly. He then looked down, noticing the glow, and pulled his glove up higher as he wrapped a strip of cloth around his sleeve, hiding the glow.He glanced back to the woman, a worried look flitting across his face, though it passed almost instantaneously. Quote Well, would you just look at that? I'm a piece of toast. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wyrd Bid Ful Araed Posted January 13, 2012 Share Posted January 13, 2012 OOC: Look again ToA, she's not looking at you :PIC: Lady de Moahwr shot a quick glance back at the passenger. He'd covered the runes up. Good. She could do without a sudden witch-hunt on the journey. People had such odd beliefs about demons and such when there were wizards living in their capital city. How very hypocritical Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Xomeron Posted January 13, 2012 Share Posted January 13, 2012 IC:"Jimmy." Evenstar repeated flatly. He'd expected something more from a golem. Weren't their names supposed to always start with G, like Garlack or Grogen or Gregory? Maybe it was Gimmy..."Well, then. I am Evenstar Le Fay." Quote That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.-Rover "A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat.""The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Toast of Awesomeness Posted January 13, 2012 Share Posted January 13, 2012 ICJimmy waved again, his heavy stone arms creaking."Hi, Evenstar!"If Evenstar was somewhat intelligent, the golem's naïveté would become apparent. From his behavior so far, the golem's mind was that of a child.An eight-foot tall stone child who could crush men to a pulp, but still.OOCOh. My mistake. ICArian glanced at the woman.Who is she? he thought. He closed his eyes, feeling the power radiating from the broken seal. He did not let the picture form in his mind, the image of a chained creature behind a sealed door. He merely reached out for touch of the leaking power, letting his body become a conduit for it as he had done before.He extended his mind outward, a tendril of thought probing into the woman's mind. Most people would think nothing of it, not even notice it, but if she was particularly perceptive....Well, it was a risk. Quote Well, would you just look at that? I'm a piece of toast. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Xomeron Posted January 13, 2012 Share Posted January 13, 2012 IC:"Are you...alone?" Evenstar asked, looking around. The childishness creature-if it could be called that-was obvious. Evenstar figured that perhaps there was a twenty-foot tall parent Golem running about somewhere... Quote That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.-Rover "A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat.""The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Toast of Awesomeness Posted January 13, 2012 Share Posted January 13, 2012 ICThe golem looked around for a moment, then shook it's great head."No," it rumbled.It then pointed one large stone finger at Evenstar. Quote Well, would you just look at that? I'm a piece of toast. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Xomeron Posted January 13, 2012 Share Posted January 13, 2012 IC:Evenstar chuckled. "Very funny. But are you and me the only ones here?" Evenstar realized talking to the construct might not be too fun. Quote That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.-Rover "A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat.""The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archer Vonn Posted January 13, 2012 Share Posted January 13, 2012 IC[Romeo Amdusias – Veils]The Prince of Mortality awoke in a sweat, eyes snapping open as fast as the jaws of a hungry ogre snapped close. The armoured helmet of a Paladin stared back at him. “Milord, I have some bad news.”---He didn’t spend much time dressing. If a Paladin was in his room in the middle of the night, it wasn’t to inform him that Alistair Alverlain was here for tea. Ninety seconds later, he was following his armed and armoured awakener down the hallway. Moonlight spilled in through the enormous windows. They kept a brisk pace, just fast enough for Romeo to notice the teary faces of the maids and nobles that lived in the Palace. Enough mascara was running for it to be called a marathon.After his heart had sufficiently bullied his ribcage, the Paladin stopped at a cross. The Prince slowed to a stop. Lying bloody and broken in the center of the hall were four armed guards. They each wore the tattered gunmetal gray and scarlet armour. None were wearing the mandatory helmet, however. None of them had any heads.One has slumped against the wall, his brains splattered behind him, his cheekbones still relatively intact albeit bent at an inhumane angle. Another lay in a pool of his own blood. Another was dashed up against the wall, as if he were thrown hard enough for his skull to shatter. The final one was slightly more dismembered. Romeo didn’t look at him much.Priests scuttled in and out of the hallway, blessing the dead, taking blood samples, preparing to move the bodies. Sobbing nobles occupied this hall as well, stricken by the loss of their defenders. Romeo felt an iron grasp on his arm, and his eyes shot towards the Paladin seizing him. “This is all very hard to take in, I imagine, sir, but there’s something else you need to see.”It was only a short walk, but this one was a walk. Straight down one hallway, then around one corner, and Romeo found he was standing beside the Paladin in front of an all too familiar sight- the looming doors of his father’s study. Many times had these been slammed in his face; many times had he felt his heart sink when his father denied him. Never had he burst in uninvited, but he knew that was exactly what he was to do now. Quote 3DS: 3711-9364-3152 PSN: AidecVoros Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Toast of Awesomeness Posted January 13, 2012 Share Posted January 13, 2012 (edited) ICThe golem looked around once more to be sure."Yes, I think so. I don't see any others."OOCNo idea how to intro Aquilus.... JC, mind if there's a few wizards there in the palace? Edited January 13, 2012 by Toast of Awesomeness Quote Well, would you just look at that? I'm a piece of toast. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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