Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Imythess, the border between dreams and reality. We hope you enjoy your visit.

Imythess is a creative writing board where you narrate the story of a character in the medieval land of Imythess, on the planet Chaon. Each topic is an opportunity for your character to interact with the world and its peoples by cooperatively writing pieces of a story with other members, one post at a time. We call this role-playing, because you assume the identity of your character as if it were your own.

In order to play, you must register an account for each character you would like to write about, and begin their tale by filling out their basic profile information: Race (human, elf, demon, etc.), class (warrior, mage, etc.), physical appearance, and any other personal details you would like to describe. You are also encouraged to come up with some background history information for what your character's life has been like up to the point at which their story in Imythess begins.

There is no approval process or application required to join, so long as you follow the rules then you are free to write whatever character details you choose. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Create a character now!


If you're already a member, you can log into your account below:


Username:   Password:
Reply
Cairns on the Wine River [FIN]; [ST05][Signups Closed]
Topic Started: Sat Sep 17, 2016 1:22 pm (8,262 Views)
Tanya
Member Avatar


The dark outside had been replaced by a blinding white light. The roof of the church provided Tanya with some shelter, but after spending so long in darkness the light that passed through the open doorway made her eyes burn.

On the upside, the arrival of the Dalca brothers had upset Rijinders enough to trigger the trap. Tanya stepped up to the Sheriff and slashed at his gut with the claws on her right hand. She followed her attack with a kick to his shin, then jumped back out of his reach. Caelum covered her retreat, swinging his axe into Rijinder's side.

When next she got an opening, Tanya ducked forward and grabbed at Rijinder's trapped leg. Her claws dug into his skin, preventing him from pulling himself free while she muttered an incantation. As she reached the end, a tiny planar rift opened, letting dozens of Abyssal parasites pass into his arm, wriggling through his flesh and wrestling him for control over his own body. The effect would be extraordinarily painful, and she hoped the competition for control over his limbs would extend the time it took him to get free of the trap.

She compensated for the mana drain by muttering another incantation, one which, unusually, would fill rather than diminish her mana pool. It had the added benefit of draining Rijinders' - she was in no mood to deal with any of his light spells.

By the time her seconds spell had been cast, so many of the Pariahs had joined the fight that there was no longer any point in trying to keep her distance. She threw herself into the melee, punching, scratching, and gouging with all four limbs.

OOC
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Storyteller[ST]
Member Avatar


Manor Crew

The chaos you've wrought is absolutely unmitigated, in spite of every best effort on Rijnders' part. There's simply so much brutality happening in a short span of time. Glug's arrows, Yurim's knives, Anci's summons and Rasaki, Mira's gutting, Tanya's blows, Caelum's chopping. Keter, when you see an opening, you say your piece and come in with a blow that sends a shockwave through the intense melee. Rijnders' head, barely recognizable, rolls across the ground. His body crumples, and yet you all don't stop attacking.

How can a mess of flesh and blood still retain some semblance of identity as Sheriff Jakob Rijnders? The daylight hasn't stopped. Perhaps it just has a duration. But Tanya drained his mana, didn't she? Perhaps the mana for the ability was already expended.

Lorica, you succeed in delaying Group Two -- and it's much-needed.

Because the body of the Sheriff is still moving.

A dead twitch in his once-fingers. The occasional shudder. Beams of semi-solid light mana pierce the existing light in a latticework across your ambush point. He's already torn apart, but you continue. The lights begin to ebb. Unholy parasites eat away at the pieces. Flickering wisps, gold-tinged air, are visible for split-seconds. Liquid light seeps into the ground, forming spiderweb-shaped cracks. Your vision flickers in strange colors.

You keep attacking. You attack anything that looks like it can be attacked. You rip tendrils of congealing light from the ground and break them apart. And finally, very slowly, Keter's admonition comes true. Sheriff Jakob Rijnders' body blackens, dessicates, and is carried away by the wind. A few lights remain, but they too are dimming. Shadows regrow. The daylight around Nine Angels is consumed once again by swirling blackness. The sky is swallowed by encroaching tendrils of star and void.

For a long moment, the ambush site quietly burns, and the only noise is the crackling of wood and the heavy breathing of you and your comrades. Viktor's the first to ruin the silence: "What a goddamned freak." He pops his severed arm back in place, causing flesh at the edges to gruesomely knit itself back together while leaving the occasional rip behind.

Yurim and Keter, you notice that the pieces cut out of your soul are slowly healing. You'll be back to normal in a week or so, able to use your full repertoire of abilities again.

Neriah comes riding in, accompanied by Paladins and Dalca Gang members, some of which are wounded. Her shortsword is bloody and arcing lightning. "Out! Away! Now! <There's a big group of fresh Sheriffs coming straight this way! We tried our best to harry them with the illusion army, but they kept bypassing us!>" She makes wide, urgent hand gestures to communicate her ideas with the non-Bridgetongue speakers.

There's movement. You're too late.

It's not Sheriffs. A lone figure walks down a side passageway toward the manor. They're imposing: taller than the average human and covered in thick, scratched, pitch-black plates that add even more to their bulk. The white mantle and half-cloak they're wearing over the super-heavy armor is stained bright red with fresh blood. What might be giving you pause about instantly attacking them is the fact they're carrying six severed heads, three in each hand, gripped by the hair.

The black knight comes to a lumbering stop and drops the heads at your feet, shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. Hands now free, they reach for their helm and unfasten the quick-release. Half the helm unhinges, allowing your ally Cinzia Zuraw to reveal her face.

She's been gone a while. Deep, furrowed scars now run almost parallel across most of her forehead and upper cheek, leaving her left eye cloudier than the other. She rolls her shoulders back, standing up straight and looking right at you for the first time -- even if she can't maintain it for more than a few seconds. Smiling warmly in your direction, she places a fist to her heart in a gesture of respect and greeting. [See Discussion for more information on Sir Zuraw's improvements.]


Riot Crew

The Burning Hatred is more than a tremendous spectacle: it's deadly. The Sheriffs, struggling to make sense of what's going on, waste valuable seconds gaping and processing. You notice the werewolves, and any remaining civilians, getting the hell out of there like their lives depended on it. Due to the importance of capturing the Wine River Pariahs, the Sheriffs push through the intimidating turnaround of the situation and put in their best effort to take you on. Alexandra, your spells send fire screaming across the battlefield. The strikers from the Hatred come in for daring low-elevation sweeps, shooting their harpoons. One of them hits a Sheriff clean through in a deadeye shot.

Czajka, after some hesitation, joins the counterattack against the Sheriffs. Her fast-slinging unholy shots hit shoulders, legs. She rushes to the nearest rope ladder, only sparing a brief glance at Amitiel. The golem's hull is ruined beyond repair, not even moving anymore, although her halo is still gently pulsating above her once-shining mane. You've beaten the odds and defeated that riot golem handily. She won't be a threat in the future.

Inferna, Alex and Czajka, you all make it onto the Burning Hatred. Sheriffs who have taken flight on bird or bat wings continue to doggedly chase you, but only for a little while. You've won; most of the deputies are wounded and need tending. Even though they're capable of staying on your trail, they opt to help their comrades instead. Looks like not all of them are complete monsters after all -- or maybe they just know not to press a fight they can't win.



Everyone

"I have a feeling that Rijnders is well and truly dead." Of all people, it's Aufdein who's confidently stating that. Ithuen Bearkiller is sitting in what has become her normal spot in the Castle's common room, her chair pushed back on its rear two legs and arms folded, flatbrim tipped down to cover her eyes.

"Czajka?" Ithuen says. "Alexandra?"

"Why're you asking me?" Czajka says, taking off her hat and shaking off the snow. A snowstorm rolled in during your escape, and it's forcing all of you to huddle inside around a few portable mieysces scattered on tables throughout.

"Y'all're spooky people. Should have spooky senses."

"Trust me, Sheriff Bearkiller--" You notice the atmosphere between Aufdein and the Sheriff is a bit frosty, and not in the literal way -- "My gut feeling has never let me down. That man is dead, dead, dead."

"If he's not, you'll have hell to pay." Ithuen pats the small wooden container she's set on the table. Inside is your promised payment: 6 money. "Fine. Have this. It's the least I can do. Seriously. Y'all did a good job. No witnesses, definitely dead, and I got no connection at all to what happened. You should be proud."

Viktor and Yevhen slip inside, apparently done checking out the wounded among the silver-wielding Dalcas. "What a bunch of deja vu. A meeting with all the Pariahs, and Ithuen," Viktor says. "Now let me guess: you'll all ask me random questions while we float on a barge down the Wine River?"

"The air is different from all the past times," Yevhen says, wringing his hands. He pulls up a seat next to Czajka and they both awkwardly greet each other while trying to look ruggedly disinterested. "This is the beginning of the end."

"Can't help but agree," the bounty hunter adds. "Me and him talked in private about--"

"In private?" Viktor rumbles, quirking an eyebrow.

"Shut up, Viktor. We talked about the details of Yevhen's vision a while back, and one of the steps to it was Nine Angels having day for the first time. I mean, in his dream the sun was rising, but I think Rijnders' power fits too."

"What's the next step?" Aufdein says. "In the vision."

"Another big freezing rainstorm. That'll start tomorrow. Then lots of blood. Lots," Yevhen croaks. "Blood mixed with water, flowing down the road. Beady eyes in the dark."

Ithuen sinks in her chair, her shoulders drawing up closer to her neck. "Wow, blood in the water. That never happens here." She's trying to be sarcastic, but her heart isn't in it. "How's Ansgar?"

"Fine." The distinctive baritone is coming from a short distance. That hulking man in tattered robes is inching down the main hallway toward the common room. Ansgar holds himself up by putting his palm against the walls, feeling around in front of him with one hand while the other is hobbling on a crutch. He's blindfolded. Ugly burn scars peek out from the bandages' edge. His robes are spotted with blood where the bandages beneath have bled through. "Just got a bit scratched up, is all."

Czajka snorts, turns to Yevhen. Mutters, "he must be army."

With all your close allies now banded together, the elephant in the room cannot be ignored any longer. You need to make a decision. Will you go to Starek to free the Scribe, or stay here and delegate the job?

The process of deciding takes almost twenty-four hours, mixed in with other pressing matters like self-care and tending to the wounded. In that night you also had another vision and gained some more observational insight about the growing tensions in Nine Angels and beyond. There was much deliberation that had to be done. Some of you asked your friends for advice on the vote, and sometimes your friends offered opinions of their own. After some long, heated debates that even prompt another gathering of allies to vote, you decide to stay in Nine Angels and delegate the Bacek job.

Ithuen, having been the last to speak on the matter, looks like she hasn't slept in nights. She hasn't left the Castle much, either. All of your other companions are available to speak with, if you'd like. They aren't going anywhere, especially with the freezing rain pummeling the outside world.

"Well. We need a plan," Aufdein counts off ideas by pressing on his fingers, "and we need to strengthen ourselves. And we need to protect ourselves. I agree that it's likely the Castle will be attacked, so we need to anticipate that as well. Then, of course, there's the job delegating. Lots for us to be doing. We'll have to start somewhere."

After some more basic deliberation along these lines, everyone breaks off to attend to their own business. You may now approach individual allies in private or in groups.


OOC
 
Final Breather Round

In this breather round, you have 6 days to post as many times as you want within reason. The next posting cutoff is Sunday, December 4 at 2:00pm Mountain. If instead of RPing you'd like to take a break, especially if you're feeling raw about the outcome of the vote, you are highly encouraged to do so. Participating in the breather round can help, but not participating doesn't hurt you at all.

Your most important goals during the breather round are the following:

  • Spend all of the money units that the Pariahs have and that you have in pocket. The Pariah faction has 18 money (10 from business income, 6 from completing the job, 2 left over from before), and all of you who remain now have +3 money in your pocket that you can use to purchase needed gear. You will not have time to spend money after the breather round is over, so try to spend it all. If you're curious about what money can be spent on, ask your fellow players before asking ST because ST's just going to say "anything you need that can be bought." ST just gives prices.

  • Agree on a plan for your delegated job. The Pariah ringleaders voted, with the help of their allies, to stay in Nine Angels and stop the town from falling apart while delegating the Bacek freeing job to either all of your allies or a subset of them. Here's the bare minimum of what you need to answer:
    • Who is your team, and who leads them?
    • Are they going to shoulder added risk by going for the Pariahs' gear?
    • Who is going to manipulate luck to counteract the "luck-sink" that Aufdein theorized existed?
    • How will they break in: loudly or quietly?

  • Agree on a plan for stopping Nine Angels from "going to shit," as Ithuen said. What do you care most about protecting? How will you operate? If you find yourselves unable to come to an agreement, split and figure out how each individual Pariah will contribute to protecting the city.




A Brief Word on NPC Death

Going into the future, I'd like to remind you of some things:

  • The death of an NPC is not the fault of any individual player.
  • The death of an NPC should not be blamed on those who voted for Pariah Ringleaders Stay.
  • If an NPC dies, do not lose hope.
  • Going for the Pariah gear does not necessarily guarantee an NPC death.

Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Glug Photall
Member Avatar


It was over…blessedly, silently over. The body of the seemingly undead Rjinders was no more, its blackened remains carried away like so much salt upon the sea. The light was fading. The goblin slowly stepped toward the edge, his next-to-last Lightning Rod leveled at the spot where he had just been. He was panting slightly, the harried flight from one nest to another now at an end. Viktor’s words broke the long silence, and Glug’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“Heh,” he breathed, his single-word response likely unheard by most at this distance.

He put one arrow away and was just grabbing the other one, his eyes examining the bloodless and bare skin where once his right short-finger had been, when his lone ear caught the sound of hooves. He looked up, and words were quickly spoken. So that’s what had become of the Ethereal’s aid. He issued a silent prayer of thanks to the Ethereal and was about to leave when the black knight showed up. His arrow was nocked and drawn back at once, its deadly tip leveled at the black knight. There were very few suits of armour that would not be ignored by his Lightning Rods, but the knight simply stopped and dropped some heads upon the ground…and then removed her helm.

He blinked in surprise. It was…Zuraw. It was the silent werewolf. How…? Where…? She was as deeply scarred as she was heavily armoured, and from the scarring, that eye had to be blind now. He released the tension upon his arrow and slowly put it away, though he kept his bow in hand. Making his way quickly to the ground, he trotted over to where the rest of the Pariahs now stood just as Zuraw was apparently saluting them. Glug nodded curtly, not knowing quite what to expect. She’d somehow gone from unnerving rogue to some kind of blackguard in the elongated period of time during which she’d been conspicuously absent. But he wasn’t displeased; even if she was a little more visible in that armour (black or not), she would be more than capable of handling herself when the Pariahs got around to doing whatever it was that came next.
Saul was secured, fed, and as warm as he could be made to be, considering the white-out Glug found himself staring at through the Castle’s window. A cigar was burning between his lips as usual, his flatbrim as low as it ever was, his cloak wrapped about him...but the arrival of Czajka brought is attention back to the present. Now that they were all here, they could begin to discuss their next move.

It wasn’t as quick or as simple as that, however. It took time…hours…Glug was present for only part of the conversation. Though others were worse off, he was no immortal; he had to sleep at some point - and sleep he did. He also dreamt…

He made his choice long ago, and now he finally emerged from the trees. His final steps disturbed the tendrils of mist still clinging at knee-height. Flowers bloomed around the rusting wreckage of the Hangman Spider's hull, long abandoned. The goblin saw that Pureblood Point had crumbled, damming the waters and leaving the city's lowlands flooded so high that not even rooftops were visible. The lake was free of even the slightest wave or ripple, allowing it to offer a perfect reflection of Nine Angels. This quaint but affluent town was characterized by its new, eclectic architecture - not unlike Balefire City's clock-tower district. The scorchline station, the economic and social centerpiece of town, was accepting new passengers.

But that was all on the other side of the lake. Here, where Glug stood, the senka were building cairns on the Wine River.

"What does success look like to you? What does failure look like to you?"

The voice belonged to a strikingly beautiful stranger. Approaching Glug from behind, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He admired her lovely green skin, that darkened goblin shade that was so alluring to his eyes. The woman’s once-yellow eyes were now voids surrounded by deep, black furrows. Glug could feel her ice-cold breath feathering against his cheek, and that old familiar chill was dancing once more upon his spine.

There were so many answers to those two simple questions…failure was relative. He had failed before. He had also succeeded before. Nine Angels was doomed…he was certain of it. Rjinders was just one piece of the whole puzzle; Lantos was another, albeit a much larger piece. He had already made his opinion known: they should go to Starek themselves and wrench Bacek from the prison’s foul clutches. But what he really wanted was just to get out of Nine Angels. He was tired of this place…he wanted to go back to Balefire, and yet…he didn’t, really. No…he wanted to go back into the woods, where it was safe…where he didn’t have to deal with other peoples’ tangled webs…

"Are you certain you know the answers to these questions?"

…no. He most definitely was NOT certain.


The dream or vision or whatever-it-was…it was unsettling at best, and it left him with more confusion and irritation than it did answers. So to clear his mind, while the others were taking their sweet time determining the fate of the group by a vote, he was studying the final spell scroll he had picked up: Globe of Darkness. It was a spell he had seen others wield in the Dark Lands often enough, and he was glad to know it himself. It would come in handy eventually. He memorized the scroll’s contents and practiced the spell until he was called in for the final decision: the job would be delegated. He scowled deeply. While he could leave, he doubted he would make it very far on his own - not at first, anyway. There was too much trouble right now. So it looked like he was stuck here, at least for now, after all.

OOC
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Lorica
Member Avatar


Lorica eventually tracked down Zuraw to speak with her. The half-werewolf must not have been trying to avoid her, because if so she'd never be able to find her, even with her shiny new armor. The Keeper nodded in greeting to the knight, smiling. "Hey there Sparky."

She kept talking, sharing what she had to say before Zuraw could manage to scribble a reply. "It would be hypocritical of me to tell you to look after yourself and then expect you to not think for yourself. I'm not your master. You are. Yeah, I wanted to go to the prison in person, but I don't blame you for wanting us to stay here. It makes sense, in some ways. So I don't hate you for disagreeing with me. Hell, I'm kind of proud of you for standing up to me." She reached a hand out to clasp the knight on the shoulder (if she didn't flinch away). "Good job, Zuraw."

"How have you been? Have you been getting enough to eat?"

"Do... do you mind if I ask you some questions? About your... old pack?" (if Zuraw says no, skip the next two questions)
"When I got back from the mines, you... well, you looked like you wanted to run in the opposite direction. How bad is silver for werewolves? Is it like poison, or does it just keep you from healing?"
"Your lycanthropy itself... Well. I don't know much about it, but Korso mentioned something about different packs being more... virulent, I guess? Is Lantos the only member of your pack that can turn others?"
"When all this madness is over, what do you think you'll do? It's important to plan for the future, after all."
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Carmen
Member Avatar


Carmen sat on the end of her bed, alone, her hands folded in her lap, and stared into the fire as it danced in her hearth. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. Her violin lay beside her, wrapped in supple leather.

"Are you sure you are doing the right thing?" she could hear her father ask, as if he were right there in the room.

"This city is rife with filth, degenerates, murderers, ill-repute and lawlessness. Wine River Transport can make into something worthy of admiration; a golden city, bristling with business and commerce. People will have jobs and wealth, education and medicine. A lump of coal made into a glittering diamond. All you have to do is let it happen."

Carmen shivered despite the heat from her fire. She wrapped a blanket over her shoulders and pulled it tight around herself.

"And this city's funeral pyre will make a glorious sight." Inferna added.

"You're agreeing with him?" she asked aloud to the flames. "They're killing people. Innocents. Pulling them into the street and butchering them. Women. Children!"

"To make an omelet, you have to break some eggs," Count Angelo's voice replied.

"And the best ones come after you've burnt the grease into the iron of the skillet." Carmen could see Inferna's grinning face in the fires of her hearth.

"And how many people does it take before it becomes wrong?" she shot back, standing, shouting at her fireplace. "What would your accountant say, father? How many lives is it worth?! And you, Inferna? Are you so bent on setting the world aflame that you'd burn the innocent and guilty alike?!"

She collapsed back on her bed, swallowed hard, and with horror realized that Ansgar was standing in the threshold of her door. Carmen hid her face in shame, even though he couldn't see.

"Come in," she whispered.

"I owe you a debt, Ansgar," she said after he'd closed the door, her face still in her palms. "I don't know how I will replay it, but I will find a way. You voted with me. You said I was of sound mind. But. . . I am not. My mind is far from sound. It is a broken thing, like a mirror dropped one time too many. Voices speak to me in what should be quiet moments. And I speak back to them. Sometimes I think I am going mad. Please. . . don't tell the others."
Edited by Carmen, Tue Nov 29, 2016 6:31 pm.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Glug Photall
Member Avatar


Glug spent some time after the meeting tending first to his horse and then to his quiver. He wasn’t particularly fond of this storm, although he usually liked the rain. He liked the way it smelled, the way it felt upon his skin, the refreshment and nourishment of it not only to himself but to the natural world around him as well…yeah, he was a very odd goblin. In fact, while most of his fellow goblins just thought he was especially smart as well as clever, nobody realized just how different from the rest of them he really was. He couldn’t say he was anything like an elf or a dwarf, and he was certainly no gnome; he definitely wasn’t a creature of the woods. But he was usually a denizen of the wild places in the world, and he’d learned to survive in some very harsh climates. But mostly, he just enjoyed being among nature.

Well, it wasn’t so much that he enjoyed it as he felt at home there.

He practiced his archery for a while but finally grew restless and decided to find Ithuen. While the two weren’t exactly friends, she had helped him out before. When he found her, he offered her a cigar - might as well make friendly if he was going to possibly die alongside her, after all. Either way, he lit up a cigar of his own. He was silent for a moment, thinking.

“Thoughts, Bearkiller?” he asked her, using her nickname. “This town is going down the drain fast. We seem to agree on that. The others think this place has a chance; I don’t see it. You really think we have a chance to accomplish anything here?”

He knew she had been in favour of sticking around only because she was already screwed and wanted to do something right for a change. But that didn’t mean she had to like it. Glug would have been surprised if she did. He was ready to let the city drown and go back “home”, himself. But until the Pariahs could carve a path out of this city that he could follow just long enough to avoid losing too many more appendages - including his head - he seemed to be stuck here. So the real question, he supposed, was:

“You think anything we do is gonna be worth it?”

OOC
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Tanya
Member Avatar


The Sheriff went down--not easily, and not quickly, but the fine mulch left of his body had finally stopped glowing. The other Pariahs had dealt with his remaining forces, and they were all finally free to return to the Castle.

After a rest and a heated debate about who was going to go to the prison, Madame Tanya decided to head down to Howling Dogs to speak with Prentum the Prick. The Pariahs had had vey little contact with him up to this point, but that might be for the best, considering the destruction that had followed them through Nine Angels. She rapped on the bar counter and waited for him to arrive. "Prentum? I'm not here for a drink. Is there somewhere we can go to talk in private?"

If he accepted, she'd follow him into the backroom and begin her proposition. "I'm Madame Tanya, of the Wine River Pariahs. I'm sure you've seen what's been going on in Nine Angels. Kir Lantos is purging the city. He's planning to build a scorchline here that connects to the ethereal plane. He's not going to ignore this place, which makes it look to me like you've got two options: give in, let him take over, and gentrify Howling Dogs until it's acceptable to all his shareholders, or fight to keep the saloon - and Nine Angels - independent." She paused. "If you're willing to fight, for Howling Dogs and for the people of Nine Angels, we'll help you defend the saloon."
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Mobster Man
Member Avatar


Yurim growled out, "What is this asshole made of!?" He took arrows, bolts, knives, and all kinds of other attacks and still. Wouldn't. Die.

He figured they would win... the amount of wounds would assure it, but would they win before reinforcements? With a new figure appearing Yurim felt like something gripped his heart, had they failed already? The answer came a few moments later when Zuraw came in and finished the job.

Yurim grinned as he walked to her, slapping her on the back before retrieving his daggers, "Good job Zuraw, good to have you back." With that said it was time to leave, to go back to Castle. Yurim got on his horse and made his way back home.

______________________________________________________________________

What was discussed next was what to do with the job, with their allies casting the deciding vote for the Pariahs to stay in town. When all was said and done, Yurim spoke up, "We need Shadowdancers. Without Riji we can literally have a marauding group of knife and bow wielding shadowdancers that can appear for a second, attack, and then disappear into the nearest shadow. I've got my own crew of Footpads, I can teach them how to jump through shadows, shoot a bow, and fight. I'll focus on that, if you need my help to plan shit out, communiquill me. Also I'm going to send out a Shadowdancer recruitment call, with Riji dead every Shadowdancer in Nine Angels is gonna be hitting the streets. I'll try rounding them up and getting them to join us once this rain stops."

_______________________________________________________________________

Yurim approached Czajka, "I might need some help gathering the Shadowdancers that are still alive. You're really popular, a lot of people willing to help you out. If you can help me spread the word that the One Shadow is looking for Shadow Dancers, they'll find my specific Shadow Dancer marks scattered around the city for quick jaunting. Shadowdancers may not be the best folks, but with how few of us there are they'll hopefully be smart enough to join us rather than fight us. In return I'll help you learn to read once this shit storm is over. Fair deal?"
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Carmen
Member Avatar


A courier runs up to Carmen while she circuits the streets surrounding the Pariah territory. He's a young man, human-mutt of some kind, definitely no wolf eyes.

"Ma'am, you the Princess of the Wine River Pariahs? This's for you, ma'am." The little guy's got a backswamp drawl real bad, and he hands you a missive.


Carmen,

You will find me in my office at the Nine Angels Scorchline Station. You may bring only one companion. Try to bring any more and I will kill you all. Attempt violence and I will kill you all.

Sincerely,

Supervisor Alfha Kir Lantos
Balefire Clerks, Wine River Transport Company
18th Block, Far West Main Street
Nine Angels, Marble County, Balefire Dominion





Carmen was about to protest the use of the epithet she'd been branded with, but the messenger was already gone. She frowns, folds the note carefully, and slips it into a hidden pocket of her riding skirt. Then she travels straight back to the castle, brushed past the guards, and searched the common areas and rooms until she finds Ansgar.

"Ansgar, I need your help," she said, taking his hand and leading him outside.

She turned when they reached the stable and looked up at his face. Carmen had paid for his eyes to be healed, and when she looked into the grafts she could hardly tell them apart from those he'd lost. She wondered if the world looked any different through them. She wondered too if he was angry at her for what had happened to him. The riot at the apothecary was, for better or worse, her brainchild.

"Kir Lantos has invited me to speak to him. He said only that I could bring a single companion."

She took out the note and showed it to him.

Carmen looked around, making sure no one else was nearby, and then stared back up at Ansgar. "You know more about me than any of the other Pariahs. I trust you, Ansgar. Some of the others have betrayed us in the past. Some may yet. I do not know their motives, but I know yours, and while some may think them peculiar, they are pure and honest. I cannot ignore this summons, but it will be dangerous. More so than anything either of us have faced before. If Lantos chooses to fight, we will surely die. Whoever comes with me will have to believe that once we step inside that room, I can talk us back out of it"

She swallowed hard. "Do you trust me that much?"

Later, dressed in all her finery, Carmen rode her golden steed to the 18th block of Far West Main Street. At her side was either Ansgar or empty space; what she learned in this meeting she would share as openly as she could, but she trusted no Pariah enough, other than Ansgar, to bring them here.

Carmen wasn't using any of her magical charms or disguises to mask herself. Lantos knew who he had beckoned; there was no reason to pretend she was anyone else. She could feel every nearby pair of eyes swing upon her as she pushed open the door and asked where Supervisor Lantos' office was located. She then walked past the assistant with all the aristocratic self-entitled confidence she'd been born into. Carmen waved his sputtered protests away with a dismissive flick of her wrist, acting as though it was her time being taxed here, not Lantos'. She held the act until she came to his room, where her gentry gave way to something meeker, acknowledging to herself that letting Lantos see himself as the Alfha for as long as possible was in her best interest.

She cast her eyes slightly downward and knocked on his door with two quiet taps. "Supervisor Alfha Lantos? It is Carmen. You asked to see me."

Then she waited to be called inside.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Storyteller[ST]
Member Avatar


Lorica

You find Sir Zuraw sitting in her room in the Castle, performing maintenance on her gear. The apologetic look on her face is replaced by exhaustion as you go through your initial words.

You ask how she's been and if she's been eating enough. She shrugs and shakes her head, but is smiling a little. At least she seems like she's in good spirits. From there you ask if it's alright to ask about her old pack. She doesn't mind, so you go ahead.

You ask how bad silver is for werewolves.

There are many different subspecies, each with different reactions. The Darkest Gloomwood subspecies has silver vulnerability connected to their regeneration. It also inflicts mild burns on contact, but not as bad as other subspecies who are badly burned or poisoned just by being near silver. Night hunters have to be insanely over-prepared...

You ask how virulent the Wolves of Lantos are.

He alone is extremely virulent in the teeth. Most of the Wolves of Lantos were his friends or enemies converted with something as simple as a tooth-scratch. The bigger the bite, the faster they turn. I never had to be turned, so I was always his favorite.

You ask what Zuraw will do when all of this is over. She looks thoughtful into the distance.

I want to see the world and help people. There is a place south of here called the Ivory League which wants to help people across the world and protect them. I think I will see if they will have me.


Carmen

Ansgar sits next to you and turns his blindfolded face in your general direction. "'Sound of mind' can mean many things. Hell, a curse can even be a boon if you change how you think about it. Regardless, your secret is safe with me." He tilts his head. "You were the woman on fire, weren't you? Or at least she was one of those fragments of you."


Glug

You approach Ithuen, who's sitting on her usual chair with one side leaned weakly against the wall. Dark circles frame her eyes. She blinks blearily at you, appearing to perk up some when you hand her a cigar. "Thanks, my man. Just what I needed." As she puffs away, she listens to your questions. You ask if the Pariahs have a chance in hell of succeeding here. You wonder if any of your efforts will be worth it.

"I don't know, Glug. I don't. I just want to leave some mark on something. Anything. Something good. If one good person from Nine Angels benefits because of something I did, that'll be a new record." She chuckles, spilling smoke from her lips. "I've never been able to do anything of real value. This is my first and last good chance. So yeah, it's worth it to me, but you might feel different. That's alright, I guess."


Tanya

The distinctive sign for the Howling Dogs Saloon is broken, the two halves dangling on their chains. You enter and see that the once-lively business is almost empty. Prentum has his back to you, using a rag to polish some already clean-looking glasses. Conspicuous spaces are left where his alcohol bottles haven't been restocked, although his kegs are still in the same place. Prentum the Prick, the owner and bartender, turns to face you. He looks human besides the tri-pupils crowded into each eye. He's dressed as nice as he can be. Prentum's jagged reddish-green irises narrow in on you while you introduce yourself and make your offer.

"You're gonna fight, huh?" he says, partly to himself. His eyes pass over the paltry visitation. "What kind of shitty offer is that? I don't need help defending this place. I'll fight the Old Wolf Karstoff myself if I have to in order to keep my livelihood. But actually going out and fighting back against all this crap that's been coming to a head..." The man makes a thinking noise. He looks like he's decided something. Putting down the rag, he offers a hand to shake yours. "Prentumael, the Tenth Contemplator Who Watches Chance Unfold. But just call me Prentum the Prick. That's what everyone else does." He smiles lopsidedly. "Just let me know when you need me most, partner, and I'll unfold those rusty old wings of mine."

You've gained the Howling Dogs Saloon's support in efforts against the Wolves of Lantos. After this success, you wonder if other locations would also be willing to lend a hand.


Yurim

You ask Czajka for help gathering Shadowdancers. "Yeah, of course. I'll do what I can." You offer to teach her how to read as a reward. She looks away, tilting her hat down. "Hey, I'm learning. Slowly. My mom said just because I'm bad at words don't mean I'm stupid. Not sure if I ever believed her. Well, whatever. If you got any pointers for reading quick and without a letter-guide, that'd be good. And maybe writing. I can't write for crap."


Carmen

Ansgar is still recovering from surgery, laying in his bed. His room is pitch dark and he's got a rag over his eyes. When you enter, he takes the cloth off and blinks blearily at you. His eyes look more human than reptilian, giving his face a more unnerving quality. The sockets are marred by permanent burn scars. Still, he's able to focus on you and see you.

You ask him for help. He listens carefully to your explanation. You ask him if he trusts you that much. "Yes. I do."

Off you go.

Ansgar follows your lead, both in movement and in demeanor. He's washed, antlers waxed and buffed, and he's dressed as well as he can be. You make your way into the Wine River Transport Company headquarters and blow past the main desk to reach Lantos' office. The door is open but the room is dark except for a few ornate glow-worm lanterns basking the area in dullest blue.

Kir Lantos is sitting behind a polished blackwood desk, upon which a small mountain of paperwork is carefully organized. "How sad. Antonio Krupin was fired by Oxbow Wrightworks and is now doomed to fall into obscurity. He might even be dead. I suppose he shouldn't have hired a bunch of random people from across Imythess, all doomed to failure." He's talking to you, but at the same time treating you like you aren't there. Hasn't even lifted his gaze. After a few seconds, he holds up a hand and motions with a couple clawed fingers for you both to come in. "Close the door behind you. Sit."

There are two cushioned chairs in front of the imposing desk. Ansgar takes a seat, looking uneasy. Kir finishes signing something and sets it aside, clearing the space immediately in front of him so he can steeple his claws there.

"Your choice of companion confirms my suspicions. You don't trust the other Pariahs, do you?" Kir looks at Ansgar. "I heard Jakob fried your eyes out. Surprised none of you else got it as bad. Never let him focus on you, I guess. So you must have gotten new eyes -- those are grafts. Good to know." After a pause, he clears his throat. "I'd like to congratulate your group on eliminating the late Sheriff Rijnders. I'm sure it was a difficult task, especially with your friend Sheriff Bearkiller conspicuously missing in action. Killing him shows that your mob of roving dogs is capable of some modicum of cooperation. More than I ever imagined, in fact."

"I've called you here because I believe you are the only Pariah capable of reasonable conversation. And I wonder: why do you, or any of the others for that matter, give a damn about this backswamp town? Why have you stayed here and tried to scratch a living from the filth? It's reached the point that your efforts almost fascinate me. Almost."
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Alexandra
Member Avatar


Alex took quite a lot of bedrest before she was up to moving. She limped down the hall to where she had left Mira's deactivated hull. With a few muttered words she called the elemental back in. "Help me look for Apple." The golem nodded.

"If she's dead, you could just load her into a golem." Alex glared at Mira before limping out of the castle and onto the streets. She would check the dark district stables and veterinarians first. She could have ended up at either.




Later, Alex made her way to the Dalca brothers hideout with Mira in tow. The golem paused in the anteroom and adjusted her heavy, ragged disguise. Alex sat down in front of the two brothers, whether or not the chair was offered, and pointed a bandaged hand at Viktor's cigar. "If you don't mind, I need something to take the edge off getting flayed alive." Alex paused and lit the cigar if it was offered. "I admit. I [removed]ed with chance to get you two to Rijinders. A lot was at stake. Ithuen's life, the eyesight of my friends and allies, the health of Nine Angels with that asshole burning the world." Alex looked down. "I prefer not to muck with such things. I can take you gambling after to repay you. I promise we'll win." Alex gave a fox's grin. Behind the Dalcas was a horde of burned corpses. She tried to ignore them. Her missing arm hurt in an entirely different spot than where she held her golem arm. She tried to ignore that as well. A half-living Maksym was resting on a nearby counter.

"But I've got an itch for the last piece of the Nine Angels story. Who was Pureblood Torsten? Why the hell was Rijinders a demigod? My elemental pal told me she literally beat him to bits of gore before she felt safe enough to burn that house to the ground. I know you two are at the heart of it. I know I haven't said much to you, I admit I was faintly uncomfortable around you." A nervous giggle that nearly peeled into manic laughter, but she caught herself. "I kinda hope you don't mind telling a bit of a tale, you two. I want to know why so many of your people, the Pariahs and the Silent Road are about to die to change the fate of Nine Angels."
Edited by Alexandra, Thu Dec 1, 2016 2:37 am.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Glug Photall
Member Avatar


Glug grunted, but he didn’t say anything for a few more moments. Finally…

“Nobody ever gave me much of a chance,” he said. “Did what I had to survive, and at least half of it was luck. What I am…”

He hesitated, and then he shrugged. He filled the air with smoke before speaking again.

“What I am isn’t something you wanna see coming at you in the dark,” he continued. “So I get it. Just never had a reason to give a rat’s tail. Guess that’s what happens when your whole life is decided on the colour of your skin and the shape of your ears alone.”

He stood there for a few moments, smoking, not saying a word. He wasn’t making excuses. He knew his life had been written in the stars before he’d ever set foot in a human city. He’d been completely and utterly trumped since the moment he was popped out. He didn’t know exactly why he was sharing his take on things, exactly. All he knew was that this town was not going to survive - not as it was - and all because some people wanted to make a name for themselves as they cut a path into the future of magical transportation in Imythess.

“Ain’t my decision, though,” he said after a while. “Got out-voted. Stayed alive for years by staying out of people’s affairs. I take one wrong job, and suddenly I’m right smack-dab in the middle of a pan, cooking with the rest of the bacon. Fine mess we’re both caught in, isn’t it?”

He shook his head.

OOC
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Carmen
Member Avatar


"I was. I am. She is a part of me that split free. She was born from my hate of. . . of who does not matter. She is the living embodiment of that emotion. She terrifies me, Ansgar. But sometimes she is the only one who can keep me safe. Were it not for her, you and I would both be dead."




Carmen sat, crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap, doing what she could to look much more relaxed than she truly felt. She listened to Lantos actively, not letting her gaze shift off him, even at his prodding commentary about her companion, and her lack of trust in anyone else.

He was right, though. At least one of the Pariahs had betrayed all the others in the past. Why the group had not reacted and murdered Keter was a question that Carmen had not been able to answer. Inferna wanted to kill the monkey herself, but she had not yet been presented with a clear opportunity to do so. Keter was not the only problem among the Pariahs. Glug, the goblin, had tried to kill Carmen back in the holding cell; a fact she'd learned some time later. The fact that the rest of the group allowed these two to remain among them told Carmen one of those things; either many, or even all of the others were in league with Keter or Glug's despicable intents, or they did not care enough to retaliate. She did not hold enough sway to see the monkey and goblin ejected from The Castle, so all she could do was protect herself by trusting no one, or rather, no one but Ansgar.

"The Pariahs explore many avenues simultaneously," she said. "We are an industrious group, and we take heed to assign tasks to those most suitable. Whatever you may feel you have gleaned regarding my companion, it perhaps fails to consider the multiple facets of our current situation."

Knowledge is power. Knowledge about you is the most powerful of all. Let none slip past your lips. Another of her father's lessons echoed in her thoughts.

Lantos went on, touching on the untimely demise of Sheriff Rjinders. "I am afraid you have caught me at a disadvantage," she replied. "I do not know a Sheriff Rjinders, but if one of your fellow lawmen has passed into the next life, then you have my condolences. I am sorry for your loss."

Finally the werewolf got to the point, and the question he'd brought Carmen in to answer. She paused, considering her answer before she spoke again.

"I am but one Pariah of many, and the motivations among us are as diverse as one might imagine. I will not claim to know each individual's reasons for following this path. My own reasons are not as simplistic as revenge, and I suspect the same is true of most of my fellows. What I can tell you, however, is that we chose this as a group, unanimous, which should not be taken lightly."

OOC
Edited by Carmen, Thu Dec 1, 2016 4:56 pm.
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Lorica
Member Avatar


OOC
 
To keep this from being gross and long, I split it up into spoilers depending on who I'm interacting with. Sorry for being so longwinded.

Zuraw is waifu


We offer dental


Why did she have to be blonde?
Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
Storyteller[ST]
Member Avatar


Alexandra

You reactivate Mira and go looking for Apple with her. You don't find her at any of the likely locations, so you swing by the Bokor Silver Pit to chat with the Dalca brothers.

You hear Viktor's voice in the entrance building.

"I'm telling you, it's not my horse!"

"Then whose is it? It's clearly not right. And it's following you everywhere."

"I don't know for sure! Everything all happened at once, it's hard to explain--"

You enter to the unusual sight of Apple sticking her head into the opposite window, nibbling on Viktor Dalca's hat. Apple's different, though. Any superficial changes?

The people in the room finally notice you. Viktor's the one to talk. "Oy Scorch! Is this your half-draft? Sorry, friend. It got caught up in some weird twist of fate before it died, so it ended up a bit, uh..."

Your horse trots around to the door. Her wounds are now rips in the skin similar to those on Viktor's face.

"It was partly why we ended up stumbling across the place where y'all were killing that guy."

You explain yourself along those lines and apologize for manipulating fate. The brothers both have to take a seat, processing the information. "Things are getting pretty desperate, huh?"

You also ask more about Torsten and various other things that they can't keep track of all at once. "I dunno why that guy was so hard to kill. Yevhen remembers him."

"Barely," the younger Dalca says. "He was just a guy Torsten kept alive back when we were killing Sheriffs during the Halasz crisis. That was way back when, even before the asylum. I don't know why, but Torsten said he was hard to kill like he knew what he was talking about."

Viktor leans back. "Torsten was smart. He could tell someone's species at a glance. No Ethereal bullshit, either. He was just that learn'd and keen. You have to be when you hunt things in a place like this, where you're a human and you're low on the food chain."

"Did you have specific questions about Torsten?" Yevhen says. "We wouldn't know where to start, to be honest. He was such a larger-than-life guy. He practically put Nine Angels on the map. He was a hero and a scoundrel at the same time."


Glug

"The world is cruel on its own. Then you add the Shadow Plane to it, and it's no wonder some people think it's got intelligence," Ithuen says, smoking.


Carmen

You're very observant, and spending so much time in this region has honed your ability to see in low light despite being half-human. The paperwork Lantos signed was an invoice issued to the Wine River Transport Company. It's not an order for construction material, but rather from some individual arcano-specialist. Probably something to do with the way the ripped scorchline has to pass into the Ethereal.

You tell Lantos that the Pariahs' motivations are varied and more than petty revenge. "I'll believe that. From the way Antonio Krupin picked each person, it's almost like he was trying to make them so uncooperative they'd fail." His thin grin isn't matching what he's saying, so it's clear from his tone that he knows you know his secret and is just talking in those terms to cover his ass in case of anyone eavesdropping.

"But that's a bit problematic, isn't it? Sure, you might have a common cause, but what might happen to that cause if it hits resistance?" he wonders out loud. "Why do you stay here? In fact, you strike me as quite out of place indeed. Highborn, definitely. The way you speak, the way you hold yourself, it's all very proper in the kind of instinctive way that comes from years of practice. I'm curious why you wouldn't want the changes happening to the city. You seem like the kind of person capable of thinking about the bigger picture."

"By the way," he adds at a fitting time after your response, "how is my daughter Zuraw doing?"


Lorica

What is a waifu?


Possums don't need dental


Because blondes are people too

Offline Profile Quote To Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Free Forums. Reliable service with over 8 years of experience.
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Balefire, the City of Lanterns · Next Topic »
Reply

Top RP SitesVote for Imythess at Top Site List Planet
Top Site Lists
Misty Woods created by Helena & Cory of ZNR