thomas.berubeg
Wandering the World
MY mind is telling me "laughing man" is something I know, but it's drawing a blank, as is wikipedia... frustrating.
Mazera Mega Story Thread
- Thread starter cypher132
- Start date
Dean_the_Young
King
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- Aug 2, 2009
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I don't think so, but this is a completely different type of Laughing Man. The quote Mouar gave was a huge tip off.
Also, there's a pun involved which was why I was so annoyed when Cabal got killed off.
Also, there's a pun involved which was why I was so annoyed when Cabal got killed off.
thomas.berubeg
Wandering the World
The light danced off the pinnacles of ice, rippling around and over the small group. For days, now, they had been climbing harsh mountains, skirting razor edge points of ice, and gradually, the white had changed into an everchanging multitudes of color. Purples and Greens and Reds and Yellows rippled into each other and into pillars of ice, where the colors were split and merged and refracted into arcs of light that skiped over the ground and into the sky, where they danced over Mazera.
Finally, as they reached the crest of a large ridge, they could see, in the distance, the source of the light. a ring of great fire leapt and flickered around a prone form on the ice. The form was in the direct center of a great crater, the lip of which was part of the ledge the party were standing on.
“At last” Ericai whispered, echoing Jonas’s and Lengdu’s feelings, and even Messa stared in wonder at the divine beauty of the Dancing light.
Carefully, despite the urge to run towards the light, they picked their way down to floor of the crater and began the walk towards the center, over the smooth ground which, when ever the wind blew clear some of the loose snow, proved to be made of glass, evidence of a great heat here long ago. As they neared, the fire roiled and gathered in front of them, as if it felt their presence. Tentacles of flame reached out and grasped at them, sending spirals of color into the sky.
They reached the base of the ring, and looked up at the expanse of Flame. What had seemed, from far away, nothing more than a simple ring of flame surrounding a bound figure was an expanse of flame containing an infinite void.
“How are we going to get in?” Lengdu asked Jonas, while Messa walked short distance towards the side. The Flames seemed to recoil from his presence, and he tentatively reached a hand towards the flame. It rippled, and seemed to give, then lashed out in full force, forcing him to pull his hand in.
Then, from afar, came the shrieking Cackle of a Frostling.
Lendu pointed his nose into the air and sniffed “They’re at the lip of the crater, coming this way. They have our sent. “
“How much time?” Jonas asked.
“a half hour, at most.”
“That’s enough. We have some time.”
Quickly, he explained his plan, and within minutes, all were working quickly, carving the pinnacles of ice that gathered around the ring into long bricks, with which a defensive bunker was constructed.
Lengdu again sniffed the air “We still have a few minutes,” he said, and threw back his head into a wordless howl into the sky, a howl in which the primal urges of nature grew and writhed with life. “heh. Didn’t expect that to work, so far from my home lands… though this is a place of power.” In the distance a howl responded, and Lengdu looked at the bewildered Messa.
“I’m a War Kha, and with that comes an innate sense of the green sea, of nature. My Cry is not just a moral support, but gives a fighting Gnoll a true power, a communion with the wild side of himself, enough to combine the Sharpness of the Gnoll mind with the wild of a wolf… and, also as a War Kha, Nature will head our call and send help, should I require it. “
“Places!” Jonas called and they each took up a position at top of their barricade. From the wall, the scampering forms of the frostlings approaching became quickly obvious, and each prepared thier defences. Messa strung a Grigori long bow and fingered the raven feathered arrows given to him by Cabal Tenhare, Ericai a blow gun from the distant jungles of his birth, and Jonas channeled the power of flame into his hands, While Lengdu Sang to give them strength and courage. Messa loosed an arrow and Jonas threw a deadly handful of fire at the frostlings, and all of a sudden, the frostlings were on them, scampering up the ice wall, finding minute crevices into which their spindly fingers would fit. Jonas Endain spun and twirled, fire spiraling around him, striking frostling after frostling, while Lengdu struke again and again with his Gnollish long sword, singing all the while, but still the frostlings came, seemingly springing from the ice. The Wind gathered strength, pulling snow from the ground to join that which began to fall from the heavens. Shrieking in delight, the frostlings redoubled their attacks, leaping into the strong wind. Messa’s Bow twanged again and again, sending arrows into the writhing horde. One such arrow was picked up by a particularly strong gust of wind, and taken over the frostlings and towards the figure at the back.
She glanced up at it, and picked it out of the air with two long fingers. Examining it, she looked in surprise at the fletching of the arrow, recognizing it. “Messa?” she whispered, and glancing back at the battle, she whistled into the wind, calling back the tribe of frostlings she had acquired in her time in the north.
On the barricade, the defenders looked perplexedly into the swirling snow.
“Where did they go?” Ericai asked
“I don’t like it” Messa Answered.
Then, from the Blizzard came, unmistakeably, a female voice calling out “Messa! Is that you?”
“Bakabushi? What are you doing here?” Messa called into the Snow, as a slender, masked form emerged, walking towards them. Jonas reared back, as the flames in his hand roared with a renewed intensity, and Lengdu angled his sword forwards, ready to strike. “Stop!” Messa yelled. “She’s a friend!”
“Your Friend, here, just tried to kill us.” Jonas growled, but the flames in his hands died down.
“Bakabushi!” Messa yelled again, Jumping down to run and hug the woman, who he dwarfed by nearly three heads. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to stop whatever these people are doing. Why are you with them?”
“They saved me. They’re good people.”
“That they may be. But what they are attempting is against the Grigori way. It is an attempt to bring a Divine power into Creation, something which they cannot be permitted to do.”
Finally, as they reached the crest of a large ridge, they could see, in the distance, the source of the light. a ring of great fire leapt and flickered around a prone form on the ice. The form was in the direct center of a great crater, the lip of which was part of the ledge the party were standing on.
“At last” Ericai whispered, echoing Jonas’s and Lengdu’s feelings, and even Messa stared in wonder at the divine beauty of the Dancing light.
Carefully, despite the urge to run towards the light, they picked their way down to floor of the crater and began the walk towards the center, over the smooth ground which, when ever the wind blew clear some of the loose snow, proved to be made of glass, evidence of a great heat here long ago. As they neared, the fire roiled and gathered in front of them, as if it felt their presence. Tentacles of flame reached out and grasped at them, sending spirals of color into the sky.
They reached the base of the ring, and looked up at the expanse of Flame. What had seemed, from far away, nothing more than a simple ring of flame surrounding a bound figure was an expanse of flame containing an infinite void.
“How are we going to get in?” Lengdu asked Jonas, while Messa walked short distance towards the side. The Flames seemed to recoil from his presence, and he tentatively reached a hand towards the flame. It rippled, and seemed to give, then lashed out in full force, forcing him to pull his hand in.
Then, from afar, came the shrieking Cackle of a Frostling.
Lendu pointed his nose into the air and sniffed “They’re at the lip of the crater, coming this way. They have our sent. “
“How much time?” Jonas asked.
“a half hour, at most.”
“That’s enough. We have some time.”
Quickly, he explained his plan, and within minutes, all were working quickly, carving the pinnacles of ice that gathered around the ring into long bricks, with which a defensive bunker was constructed.
Lengdu again sniffed the air “We still have a few minutes,” he said, and threw back his head into a wordless howl into the sky, a howl in which the primal urges of nature grew and writhed with life. “heh. Didn’t expect that to work, so far from my home lands… though this is a place of power.” In the distance a howl responded, and Lengdu looked at the bewildered Messa.
“I’m a War Kha, and with that comes an innate sense of the green sea, of nature. My Cry is not just a moral support, but gives a fighting Gnoll a true power, a communion with the wild side of himself, enough to combine the Sharpness of the Gnoll mind with the wild of a wolf… and, also as a War Kha, Nature will head our call and send help, should I require it. “
“Places!” Jonas called and they each took up a position at top of their barricade. From the wall, the scampering forms of the frostlings approaching became quickly obvious, and each prepared thier defences. Messa strung a Grigori long bow and fingered the raven feathered arrows given to him by Cabal Tenhare, Ericai a blow gun from the distant jungles of his birth, and Jonas channeled the power of flame into his hands, While Lengdu Sang to give them strength and courage. Messa loosed an arrow and Jonas threw a deadly handful of fire at the frostlings, and all of a sudden, the frostlings were on them, scampering up the ice wall, finding minute crevices into which their spindly fingers would fit. Jonas Endain spun and twirled, fire spiraling around him, striking frostling after frostling, while Lengdu struke again and again with his Gnollish long sword, singing all the while, but still the frostlings came, seemingly springing from the ice. The Wind gathered strength, pulling snow from the ground to join that which began to fall from the heavens. Shrieking in delight, the frostlings redoubled their attacks, leaping into the strong wind. Messa’s Bow twanged again and again, sending arrows into the writhing horde. One such arrow was picked up by a particularly strong gust of wind, and taken over the frostlings and towards the figure at the back.
She glanced up at it, and picked it out of the air with two long fingers. Examining it, she looked in surprise at the fletching of the arrow, recognizing it. “Messa?” she whispered, and glancing back at the battle, she whistled into the wind, calling back the tribe of frostlings she had acquired in her time in the north.
On the barricade, the defenders looked perplexedly into the swirling snow.
“Where did they go?” Ericai asked
“I don’t like it” Messa Answered.
Then, from the Blizzard came, unmistakeably, a female voice calling out “Messa! Is that you?”
“Bakabushi? What are you doing here?” Messa called into the Snow, as a slender, masked form emerged, walking towards them. Jonas reared back, as the flames in his hand roared with a renewed intensity, and Lengdu angled his sword forwards, ready to strike. “Stop!” Messa yelled. “She’s a friend!”
“Your Friend, here, just tried to kill us.” Jonas growled, but the flames in his hands died down.
“Bakabushi!” Messa yelled again, Jumping down to run and hug the woman, who he dwarfed by nearly three heads. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to stop whatever these people are doing. Why are you with them?”
“They saved me. They’re good people.”
“That they may be. But what they are attempting is against the Grigori way. It is an attempt to bring a Divine power into Creation, something which they cannot be permitted to do.”
The sound of lyres and harps filled the wide palace halls of Tariss. Noone at the banquet table dared to speak a word that would disturb this majestic calm.
But Faeryl knew that it wasn't the respect for the music, but the distrust she and her sisters had entertained within living memory. Having destroyed Evermore together didn't mean that they owed each other any allegiance or friendship.
The Svartalfar certainly could have extended their control about Mazera far beyond their current borders if the last years hadn't been all about looking after the assassins of the others. But that was alright. The Svartalfar were no sentimental fools like the Bannor or the Malakim that cared much about loyalty and honor. Those 'virtues' are a sign of weakness that virtually invite you to cut their throats. Assassins are our way to earn the respect we deserve.
And in fact she had earned it. Day after day she had executed every single assassin that Volanna and Rivanna had sent to hold power in the Winter court. Having hired so many of them in her life she knew one once she saw him. The hidden fear in the eyes of her sisters spoke volumes. I still don't trust them. I still will look with both eyes on my back. But now the Winter Court can start to subjugate the lesser beasts. With or without the gift of our new "friend".
But Faeryl knew that it wasn't the respect for the music, but the distrust she and her sisters had entertained within living memory. Having destroyed Evermore together didn't mean that they owed each other any allegiance or friendship.
The Svartalfar certainly could have extended their control about Mazera far beyond their current borders if the last years hadn't been all about looking after the assassins of the others. But that was alright. The Svartalfar were no sentimental fools like the Bannor or the Malakim that cared much about loyalty and honor. Those 'virtues' are a sign of weakness that virtually invite you to cut their throats. Assassins are our way to earn the respect we deserve.
And in fact she had earned it. Day after day she had executed every single assassin that Volanna and Rivanna had sent to hold power in the Winter court. Having hired so many of them in her life she knew one once she saw him. The hidden fear in the eyes of her sisters spoke volumes. I still don't trust them. I still will look with both eyes on my back. But now the Winter Court can start to subjugate the lesser beasts. With or without the gift of our new "friend".
Diamondeye
So Happy I Could Die
Spoiler The Actions of a Madman, pt. XI :
Dean_the_Young
King
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2009
- Messages
- 811
Meskwaki dreams dreams of powders and magics, and sees only what he has already seen. He can remember the Orcs, remember the battles against the Greenskins. With a little more effort, he can link that to his memories of the true snake skins, the Yokaido serpents whom they fought in the dark swamps. He can remember them, and call back the fury.
But he can only look back. When he remembers the Grigori, it is much harder. Few of them are green, but even those greenskins do not resemble those of his memory. They too wear the mail and armor of the Serpentine and otherwise, they wield swords and not clubs, and in manner and thought they were a breed apart from the Clan which had grand-fathered them. It is much harder to bring back the fury.
And so Meskwaki is attempting something else, anything to bring increase their chances against the Grigori and Bannor. He is not dreaming to recreate the past, but dreaming visions to create a future. It would normally be a hopeless quest. He has been on it for weeks, barely sustaining himself on spirit magic alone, and he vaguely knows that his comrades think him lost. He has already been struck by the plague, and they think he is as close to dead as to make no difference.
But at last, now, he has finally succeeded. His dreams have encountered, mixed, interacted, with another another's. Sentience, great, terrible, terrifying, and yet innocent and victimized like himself, has been touched.
'Show me the way!' he screams into the deep blackness. 'Give me the means to defeat my foes! Destroy this Plague, kill our foes, return our anger!'
They speak, and he immediately wishes They hadn't. They are so un-human as to make the Greenskins his brothers, and they do not care about anything but their own designs. The speak, caress with words, violate his sense of self with their demands, until a soft and gentle voice breaks through the nightmare he has created and wakes him up.
"You have spoken to Them," a woman three quarters his size but equal his presence says, and he wonders if she is really in the tent, of if she is something he, or They, or someone else entirely dreamed into existence. "Are they not beautiful?" she asked.
He, painfully, considered, but could not deny it.
"As beautiful as a Rock Raven striking the face," he said.
She laughed, a charming and bewitching sound. "Yes, I suppose that would be your analogy, as one who has never seen the ocean."
"How do you know-" he began, but that was pointless to ask. "Why are you here?" he asked.
She laughed again and gently stroked his face, wiping sweat from his brow. "I am here to help you, like you asked," she said. "I offer yours an escape from the Plague, to revive your anger, to offer you a way. Obey the Overlords, and you will be the first of the Kraken of the Fields."
The title meant nothing to him, but he knew the context. Power. Victory. A might unmatched by any in a way not even the Infernals or Veil could offer. Not a power bought by sacrifice of blood, but of sacrifice of sanity.
The Chislev had long ago cast aside their reserve and pacifism in interest of revenge.
"You can truly do it?" Meskawaki asked. "Make our armies safe from the plague, give us hope? Just who are you?"
She knelt down, and he was reminded very much that she was a woman and he was a man who had gone without for far too long, but she did not mind.
"I am the Speaker Deneb," she introduced herself. "Follow and Obey the Overlords, and I will be yours and you will have the means to victory."
But he can only look back. When he remembers the Grigori, it is much harder. Few of them are green, but even those greenskins do not resemble those of his memory. They too wear the mail and armor of the Serpentine and otherwise, they wield swords and not clubs, and in manner and thought they were a breed apart from the Clan which had grand-fathered them. It is much harder to bring back the fury.
And so Meskwaki is attempting something else, anything to bring increase their chances against the Grigori and Bannor. He is not dreaming to recreate the past, but dreaming visions to create a future. It would normally be a hopeless quest. He has been on it for weeks, barely sustaining himself on spirit magic alone, and he vaguely knows that his comrades think him lost. He has already been struck by the plague, and they think he is as close to dead as to make no difference.
But at last, now, he has finally succeeded. His dreams have encountered, mixed, interacted, with another another's. Sentience, great, terrible, terrifying, and yet innocent and victimized like himself, has been touched.
'Show me the way!' he screams into the deep blackness. 'Give me the means to defeat my foes! Destroy this Plague, kill our foes, return our anger!'
They speak, and he immediately wishes They hadn't. They are so un-human as to make the Greenskins his brothers, and they do not care about anything but their own designs. The speak, caress with words, violate his sense of self with their demands, until a soft and gentle voice breaks through the nightmare he has created and wakes him up.
"You have spoken to Them," a woman three quarters his size but equal his presence says, and he wonders if she is really in the tent, of if she is something he, or They, or someone else entirely dreamed into existence. "Are they not beautiful?" she asked.
He, painfully, considered, but could not deny it.
"As beautiful as a Rock Raven striking the face," he said.
She laughed, a charming and bewitching sound. "Yes, I suppose that would be your analogy, as one who has never seen the ocean."
"How do you know-" he began, but that was pointless to ask. "Why are you here?" he asked.
She laughed again and gently stroked his face, wiping sweat from his brow. "I am here to help you, like you asked," she said. "I offer yours an escape from the Plague, to revive your anger, to offer you a way. Obey the Overlords, and you will be the first of the Kraken of the Fields."
The title meant nothing to him, but he knew the context. Power. Victory. A might unmatched by any in a way not even the Infernals or Veil could offer. Not a power bought by sacrifice of blood, but of sacrifice of sanity.
The Chislev had long ago cast aside their reserve and pacifism in interest of revenge.
"You can truly do it?" Meskawaki asked. "Make our armies safe from the plague, give us hope? Just who are you?"
She knelt down, and he was reminded very much that she was a woman and he was a man who had gone without for far too long, but she did not mind.
"I am the Speaker Deneb," she introduced herself. "Follow and Obey the Overlords, and I will be yours and you will have the means to victory."
Diamondeye
So Happy I Could Die
Nice story, Dean! The Overlords are on the move 
Dean_the_Young
King
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2009
- Messages
- 811
Thanks. Cypher and I made the decision last night.
Got a question to ask you: could you get to the erebushchat soon?
Got a question to ask you: could you get to the erebushchat soon?
It was late night. The moonlight tried to break through the leafy canopies of the woods around Thariss. Faeryl loved this sight more than anything else as it felt like a content grin of Esus, her only real friend in her world of distrust and fear.
As beautiful it was to look into the horrified eyes of her "sisters" after a short time the atmosphere between them became intolerable. Thus it happened very often that she left their banquets just to walk through the corridors of her palace again and again. Sometimes her lonely walks did not end until the morning and she had to command a servant to share her bed as this way she could at least get a bit sleep. But the remedy did not work for long and soon Faeryl walked through the corridors again. Something was missing, she did not know what.
Perhaps it had something to do with the window Arendel and her had met the last time. Perhaps she only had to hold her head in her hand and soon she could sleep again. But what if she really missed her? Using her simple-minded sentimentality to her gain always had been a great pleasure. Like taking a lolly from a baby that had bond his arms on the back. Her new 'sisters' were snakes in the grass that would betray her immediately if they could. She knew that for sure. Thanks to them she had accommodated to the taste of poison in her whine. Arendel would never try something like this. Never. Faeryl knew that. But was it really contempt for her weakness she felt? Or was it a slight sign of respect for her detested archenemy?
As beautiful it was to look into the horrified eyes of her "sisters" after a short time the atmosphere between them became intolerable. Thus it happened very often that she left their banquets just to walk through the corridors of her palace again and again. Sometimes her lonely walks did not end until the morning and she had to command a servant to share her bed as this way she could at least get a bit sleep. But the remedy did not work for long and soon Faeryl walked through the corridors again. Something was missing, she did not know what.
Perhaps it had something to do with the window Arendel and her had met the last time. Perhaps she only had to hold her head in her hand and soon she could sleep again. But what if she really missed her? Using her simple-minded sentimentality to her gain always had been a great pleasure. Like taking a lolly from a baby that had bond his arms on the back. Her new 'sisters' were snakes in the grass that would betray her immediately if they could. She knew that for sure. Thanks to them she had accommodated to the taste of poison in her whine. Arendel would never try something like this. Never. Faeryl knew that. But was it really contempt for her weakness she felt? Or was it a slight sign of respect for her detested archenemy?
Diamondeye
So Happy I Could Die
Spoiler The actions of a madman, pt. XII :
cypher132
Emperor
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2008
- Messages
- 1,009
Open letter from: Onstad Hastil
To: All nations of Mazera
Greetings,
I write this letter on the behalf of Alessea of the Ljosalfar. I have met with her and we have spoken at length and she feels it is time to tell a secret she has kept. The Battle of Bayamo was a bloody one, many lives were lost. The Sheaim had secretly constructed gates in their district to bring in demonic beasts and began to slaughter the other districts. Among the lives lost that day was that of Arendel Phaedra. Alessea had seen her fall, but knew that not many of the other Ljosalfar knew Phaedra had fallen. So she kept it a secret to give her people faith and was able to rebuild the Ljosalfar nation by claiming to be speaking for Arendel. Alessea was unable to write these letters herself as she is afraid of what the consequences may be, especially from her own people. I ask you to look kindly upon her as she has rallied her people and rebuilt a nation without us even knowing.
Sincerely,
Onstad Hastil
To: All nations of Mazera
Greetings,
I write this letter on the behalf of Alessea of the Ljosalfar. I have met with her and we have spoken at length and she feels it is time to tell a secret she has kept. The Battle of Bayamo was a bloody one, many lives were lost. The Sheaim had secretly constructed gates in their district to bring in demonic beasts and began to slaughter the other districts. Among the lives lost that day was that of Arendel Phaedra. Alessea had seen her fall, but knew that not many of the other Ljosalfar knew Phaedra had fallen. So she kept it a secret to give her people faith and was able to rebuild the Ljosalfar nation by claiming to be speaking for Arendel. Alessea was unable to write these letters herself as she is afraid of what the consequences may be, especially from her own people. I ask you to look kindly upon her as she has rallied her people and rebuilt a nation without us even knowing.
Sincerely,
Onstad Hastil
Dean_the_Young
King
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2009
- Messages
- 811
Kuriotates Finally Build Ordine Citadel.
After long and unseemly delays in licensing and Medicos qualifications, the Kuriotates have at last completed the Ordine Citadel. Perhaps the only genuine purpose-built citadel provided to date, the Ordine Draconis is built in honor and tribute to the Golden Dragon. Lavish and expansive, and more than capable of handling all the Medicos needs, this is truly what the Ordine had in mind for their expansion.
Embarrassingly, the biggest delay in completion was the expansion of knowledge needed to treat the non-humanoid members of Kuriotate society: many Ordine Medicos had to learn from veterinarians and Kuriotate healers before they could properly care for the centaurs and minotaurs and similar of the Kuriotate lands.
After long and unseemly delays in licensing and Medicos qualifications, the Kuriotates have at last completed the Ordine Citadel. Perhaps the only genuine purpose-built citadel provided to date, the Ordine Draconis is built in honor and tribute to the Golden Dragon. Lavish and expansive, and more than capable of handling all the Medicos needs, this is truly what the Ordine had in mind for their expansion.
Embarrassingly, the biggest delay in completion was the expansion of knowledge needed to treat the non-humanoid members of Kuriotate society: many Ordine Medicos had to learn from veterinarians and Kuriotate healers before they could properly care for the centaurs and minotaurs and similar of the Kuriotate lands.
cypher132
Emperor
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2008
- Messages
- 1,009
NIGHTWATCH ANNOUNCEMENT
The Nightwatch have been investigating the disappearance of Bannor villages on the Grigori border and have discovered something for more terrifying than expected. In the uninhabited area between the Grigori and Bannor nations is another Great Spider, the kind of spider that Aranox is. This Great Spider is apparently named Ungator and is the reason these villages disappeared, directing the hundreds of spiders crawling along its body to attack and devour. These spiders secrete an acidic venom from their fangs, accounting for the missing buildings and the unreleased information of scorched areas. The Grigori and Bannor should be on the lookout for this dangerous spider and its horde.
The Nightwatch have been investigating the disappearance of Bannor villages on the Grigori border and have discovered something for more terrifying than expected. In the uninhabited area between the Grigori and Bannor nations is another Great Spider, the kind of spider that Aranox is. This Great Spider is apparently named Ungator and is the reason these villages disappeared, directing the hundreds of spiders crawling along its body to attack and devour. These spiders secrete an acidic venom from their fangs, accounting for the missing buildings and the unreleased information of scorched areas. The Grigori and Bannor should be on the lookout for this dangerous spider and its horde.
The night around Thariss was silent. No crackling and rustling in the shrubbery. No owl's screech. Not even the cool north wind blowing through the leaves. Only feet stepping again and again through the palace corridor. Faeryl did not even know how long she had done this and her aimless itinerancy surely could have endured until the dawn again if something in the shadows of the night had not drawn her attention.
A raven sat on the windowsill starring at her perpetuously. How it had gotten into the palace was a riddle to her. The windows were all magically closed at night since an assassin of one of her rivals had managed to reach her chamber before Faeryl stabbed her herself. Even stranger now that Faeryl looked at him too it flew closer to her and landed on her hand. Its feathers were even darker than the feathers of other ravens. Its beak was long and sharp as a dagger thirsting for blood. Its eyes looked at her with a sinister intelligence.
Faeryl was so fascinated by this beautiful animal that she first did not recognize the message that was wrapped around its leg. Then after some time - were it seconds, minutes or hours - she took it and read it thinking about the offer it contained extensively. Then it was clear to her. She looked into the eyes of the raven, put her mouth to his ears and whispered: "I accept your offer, 'Caqui'. Rivanna will be yours tonight. Do what you want to do with her. I don't miss her poison in my whine." Faeryl hesitated some seconds "Now fly my lovely, deliver my message, but return to my side. You must be an envoy of Esus. It is his aura that warms and cools my skin." With these words the raven took into the skies and disapeared into the shadows as soon as he had left her hand.
Faeryl searched after the raven regretting that she had send it away so quickly. But then she knew what she had to do. She went into Rivanna's chamber, enchanted her to extend the grip of sleep to a week. Then she called her most loyal shadows. They tied and gagged her 'sister' and brought her out of the palace to the place Esus envoy had told her.
After all that was over Faeryl sank down on Rivanna's bed and finally fell into a dreamless sleep.
A raven sat on the windowsill starring at her perpetuously. How it had gotten into the palace was a riddle to her. The windows were all magically closed at night since an assassin of one of her rivals had managed to reach her chamber before Faeryl stabbed her herself. Even stranger now that Faeryl looked at him too it flew closer to her and landed on her hand. Its feathers were even darker than the feathers of other ravens. Its beak was long and sharp as a dagger thirsting for blood. Its eyes looked at her with a sinister intelligence.
Faeryl was so fascinated by this beautiful animal that she first did not recognize the message that was wrapped around its leg. Then after some time - were it seconds, minutes or hours - she took it and read it thinking about the offer it contained extensively. Then it was clear to her. She looked into the eyes of the raven, put her mouth to his ears and whispered: "I accept your offer, 'Caqui'. Rivanna will be yours tonight. Do what you want to do with her. I don't miss her poison in my whine." Faeryl hesitated some seconds "Now fly my lovely, deliver my message, but return to my side. You must be an envoy of Esus. It is his aura that warms and cools my skin." With these words the raven took into the skies and disapeared into the shadows as soon as he had left her hand.
Faeryl searched after the raven regretting that she had send it away so quickly. But then she knew what she had to do. She went into Rivanna's chamber, enchanted her to extend the grip of sleep to a week. Then she called her most loyal shadows. They tied and gagged her 'sister' and brought her out of the palace to the place Esus envoy had told her.
After all that was over Faeryl sank down on Rivanna's bed and finally fell into a dreamless sleep.
Dean_the_Young
King
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2009
- Messages
- 811
OOC: First, I'd like to say that Cypher had the final word in this, not me. You know who you are...
Lanun Ordine Citadel Founded
More properly a small fleet in its own right, the Sweet Mercy and a number of its sister ships, master-galleons all, have been given to the Ordine to service the Lanun nation. Invited to every port on the continent of Mazera and Lunan, the Sweet Mercy is a grand hospital ship in its own right, and is even better at sailing to the latest point of concern. Among it's regular Lanun escort are a constant escort of small clippers, used these days to warn other ships of the Leviathan.
Plague Devastates More Nations
In the latest spread, the Plague has spread into new nations with unbelievable intensity. The Medicos are shocked and alarmed at the extent of the latest spread, widespread and seemingly implausible.
That the Plague has finally spread to the Lanun is not surprising. What is surprising, however, is to what depth: the Plague has infected a number of the ships closest to Falamar, including his own. Though he was off his ship during the voyage and has remained safe, a number of the most important captains and administrators of the Lanun fleet have been struck. Many are not expected to make it, even with prompt Medicos attention, but it will likely take some time for the sickness to pass and the Lunan to readjust to the loss of some of their best and most effective leaders.
Far more alarming was the spread of the Plague to the Hippus, despite their extensive preparations and trade isolation. Frighteningly, much of the Hippus government, the movers and shakers, have come down with the Plague. Even King Alexander is sick, though the local Medicos expect for at least him to pull through quickly. But at a time of war, with Drafia only days away from engagement, the Hippus government and some of their most veteran troops have fallen under the sword of plague.
Two marginal success stories exist, however. Both Tebyrn of the Deadlands and the Amurites have come through the Plague with remarkably few cases to their high councils. Tebryn has insinuated that the Sheaim can control the Plague, rallying many refugees to their cities despite the lack of Medicos, while the Amurites have stressed that strong fundamentals of healthiness and restraint of magic have spared their leadership, advice which the Ordine heartily approves of.
In other plague-related news, reports suggest that the Plague is being rapidly curtailed in the Chislev lands. Soldiers and civilians who show signs have been taken away, and little else heard of them.
Chislev Submit to the Overlords
In a surprise move, the Chislev have adopted the religion of the Octopus Overlords. Many are curios as to why and how they hope for this to end: the Overlords, though formidable and terrible at sea, are far less known for their reach into the continent. However, many influential and important Chislev have openly converted, and few of the original government have declined.
Rivanna the Wraith Lord Vanishes
The general, beauty, and important figure of the Svartalfar has vanished into the night. Queen Faeryl has announced a public search for the Svartalfar general, and is said to have fallen asleep weeping at her close companion's bed.
More properly a small fleet in its own right, the Sweet Mercy and a number of its sister ships, master-galleons all, have been given to the Ordine to service the Lanun nation. Invited to every port on the continent of Mazera and Lunan, the Sweet Mercy is a grand hospital ship in its own right, and is even better at sailing to the latest point of concern. Among it's regular Lanun escort are a constant escort of small clippers, used these days to warn other ships of the Leviathan.
Plague Devastates More Nations
In the latest spread, the Plague has spread into new nations with unbelievable intensity. The Medicos are shocked and alarmed at the extent of the latest spread, widespread and seemingly implausible.
That the Plague has finally spread to the Lanun is not surprising. What is surprising, however, is to what depth: the Plague has infected a number of the ships closest to Falamar, including his own. Though he was off his ship during the voyage and has remained safe, a number of the most important captains and administrators of the Lanun fleet have been struck. Many are not expected to make it, even with prompt Medicos attention, but it will likely take some time for the sickness to pass and the Lunan to readjust to the loss of some of their best and most effective leaders.
Far more alarming was the spread of the Plague to the Hippus, despite their extensive preparations and trade isolation. Frighteningly, much of the Hippus government, the movers and shakers, have come down with the Plague. Even King Alexander is sick, though the local Medicos expect for at least him to pull through quickly. But at a time of war, with Drafia only days away from engagement, the Hippus government and some of their most veteran troops have fallen under the sword of plague.
Two marginal success stories exist, however. Both Tebyrn of the Deadlands and the Amurites have come through the Plague with remarkably few cases to their high councils. Tebryn has insinuated that the Sheaim can control the Plague, rallying many refugees to their cities despite the lack of Medicos, while the Amurites have stressed that strong fundamentals of healthiness and restraint of magic have spared their leadership, advice which the Ordine heartily approves of.
In other plague-related news, reports suggest that the Plague is being rapidly curtailed in the Chislev lands. Soldiers and civilians who show signs have been taken away, and little else heard of them.
Chislev Submit to the Overlords
In a surprise move, the Chislev have adopted the religion of the Octopus Overlords. Many are curios as to why and how they hope for this to end: the Overlords, though formidable and terrible at sea, are far less known for their reach into the continent. However, many influential and important Chislev have openly converted, and few of the original government have declined.
Rivanna the Wraith Lord Vanishes
The general, beauty, and important figure of the Svartalfar has vanished into the night. Queen Faeryl has announced a public search for the Svartalfar general, and is said to have fallen asleep weeping at her close companion's bed.
Due to this surprising turn of events, which has taken the hippus nation by storm, special potions are to be distributed to the strongest fighter's of the hippus nation. As well as the most cunning of King Alexander's staff. Whether the potion would help the king recover from the disease has yet to be seen, although small doses are being administered.
meanwhile, Drifa has been spotted leading a Doviello attack into Luchuirp territory. Every-time she shows up on the front lines' however, the mass numbers of fireballs aligned against her often prove too much for the beast. Still, there are no signs of her weakening her advance. Hippus forces are gathering in force at the borders.
meanwhile, Drifa has been spotted leading a Doviello attack into Luchuirp territory. Every-time she shows up on the front lines' however, the mass numbers of fireballs aligned against her often prove too much for the beast. Still, there are no signs of her weakening her advance. Hippus forces are gathering in force at the borders.
Dean_the_Young
King
- Joined
- Aug 2, 2009
- Messages
- 811
(Tasunke, it was already assumed you had drunken the potion. By Cypher's roll of the dice, you've been screwed. Bad. Doubly, now.)
cypher132
Emperor
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2008
- Messages
- 1,009
It's being administered in small doses. It'll have no effect.
