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  1. #1
    The World of Emporium: The Hunt of Light and Dark

    The World of Emporium: The Hunt of Light and Dark

    The Kingdom of Rekōdo
    Attachment 686

    On the planet called Emproium is a country called Rekōdo. Rekōdo is a world where the people live and dress similarly to that of late 1800s Western Europe. The clothing ranges from victorian to a mechanical steampunk and their abilities to wield magika re just as varied and creative. Within Rekōdo City, the heart of the united provinces, any style is accepted because in Rekōdo, almost anything is possible. For one who is not from Rekōdo, visiting for the first time can be quite the experience. There are pegasus-drawn carriages to flying automobiles, flying umbrellas to gargoyle pulls, giant tethered balloons and moons in the sky, and singing fountains. If you can imagine it, and if you cannot, it will be in Rekōdo City.

    It is also a world of magik and mystery, boasting what some may find eerie, strange or mystical in origin. It is a place of magik that thoroughly encourages its children to study and delve deeply into its magikal use and history just as they do with all their studies. As the people of Rekōdo dedicate their lives to their academics and magikal practices, it's only natural that they have public libraries. Chronicling is particularly important in the hearts of people from Rekōdo. The name of their United Provinces, after all, means "to record."

    Attachment 668

    The Central Library of Rekōdo boasts over one million books, both written and magikal. Every person is born with the ability to use magik and is encouraged to develop their abilities as much as they are encouraged to further themselves academically. There are tiers and levels of the Library. The most common area within the vast dome is a many-shelves-high area filled with floating scribe parchments and quills, scrying imps, floating book carts and chairs in which to read. There are wings that branch off from the main rotunda and each wing houses a more specified selection of books. Each Province has its own dedicated wing with books of great renown and importance to their study and history.



    The Central Library

    Attachment 669

    The library is opened at all hours, except for two hours in the early morning hours where the highest level of staff take time to re-strengthen the wards and spells surrounding the Library and more restricted sections. It hosts books containing ever subject imagined and all will need protection in the interests of preserving their vastly faceted history. There are Haunted Sections where ghosts of history are bound to their tomes and will speak directly with you if you choose their book from its shelf. There are even books of prophecy that spills their secrets to those who turn their pages. There are books that will shelf themselves when they are done. Whatever can be imagined exists within the Central Library. One has but to go inside to see.



    The Most Sacred Texts

    Attachment 670

    The most sacred text of the people of Rekōdo is the Book of Memories (sometimes referred to with more scorn as the Book of Secrets). Tel' Parma en' Rinarim, as it is called in the ancient tongue of magik, contains the recordings of past rulers dating back to the beginning of Rekōdo's founding and with it the life-account of every king or queen since. No one is allowed to lay their hands upon the Book of Memories except the current ruler. Anyone who touches it will have their life recorded onto its pages from their birth unto their death. Only the rulers are allowed to view the chapters of the rulers before them. Otherwise all the secrets of the country would be laid bare, possibly with catastrophic consequence.

    There are other, more minor books that have restricted access. There are Books of Prophecy that, when opened will have words appear on their pages of the next major prophecy to come true, prophecies that, once set into motion, cannot be stopped. There are other prophecy books inclined to write specific futuristic predictions of those who open their pages. There are tomes on how to Quiet (cut a person off from their magikal power), how to indenture into the servitude of genie lamps, of ancient rituals that are forbidden in the modern world. These cannot be checked out and can only be viewed with the highest levels of permission. They are held in the same tier of secretive chambers in the library as the Book of Memories. They are guarded by two house-sized stone lions. One of fire and one of ice. When awakened by an intrusion into the restricted section, they will defend the priceless tomes with magikal fire (enchanted to not burn the cargo of the shelves), or ice.



    Those Who Rule in Rekōdo

    The Children of Liar'Adon and Deanna of the Stars

    Those who are to rule a world containing magik as this one does must be able to control and manipulate magiks to a great extent. The heirs to the throne are descended from a line that, according to history, flows directly from the God-Creator of their world, Liar'Adon, and the lady mortal who won his heart, Deanna the Favored. When the current ruler has children, those children are tested to see if they inherited their predecessors ability to control and create magik. If they are, it is the second child who is to rule unless that child shows an underwhelming deficit of magikal ability over the older sibling. None have faltered so far.

    Traditionally, it is the younger child who will rule and the older who will be their life-guardian. If there is no second sibling, the first will rule and a cousin (or other relative) will be their Life Guardian or one will be appointed of a person with remarkable magik abilities (usually from a prominent family). If they are seriously committed to their cause, an older sibling to the heir may chose to take the Oath of Protection, which bonds them magikally, spiritually, and mentally to the heir so that they may better serve them. They forsake companionship with any other and dedicate themselves fully and completely to protecting the ruler-to-be. They are released from their bond only by the ruler or by death- either theirs of their charge.


    The Founding Spirits of Rekōdo

    In the beginning, the warring peoples were united under the leadership of the First King. His power and magik marked him as a Child of Liar'Adon and Deanna and it was he who convinced the leaders of the factioned peoples to unite under one banner, yet retain their individualism. For the sake of peace and those they lead, Clow of Taroc, Siochana of Shamaa, Dayena of Astral, J'Adonai of Da'Jinn, Arxus of Maginus and the First King became the Founders of Rekōdo. It was during this time that the Book of Memories was created, so that the wisdom of the First King could be passed on to each succeeding ruler of his line. It was in his example that the Founders of Rekōdo decided to create and bind themselves in the Oath of Masters. Upon their deaths, their Spirits would seek out and bond with a Vessel of their choosing. This new Vessel would become the next Guild Master of their Province. As that Guild Master passed, so the Ancestral Spirit of their land would pass itself on to the next deserving Host. The Five Founding Guild Masters ritually ended their lives before they grew too old or infirm to lead and began the cycle that lasts in Rekōdo to this day.


    The Guild Masters of Rekōdo

    There is a High Council of Rekōdo, whom are direct advisors to the ruler. They are a group of five of the highest magik wielders in the Five Provinces of Rekōdo, chosen by the Ancestral Spirits of their Guilds.

    They serve as both law makers and peace keepers, judges in the highest courts and solvers of all problems related to the inheritance of the leadership of Rekōdo. Their leadership is both given and elected. They contain the Spirit and possess the history and knowledge of their people since the beginning of Rekōdo. The Vessel that is the High Council member to the Ruler and Guild Master of their Province is chosen completely by the Ancestral Spirit. Some provinces have an under council of sorts who attempt to train and watches the growth of the youth in the province for a potential successor. If one is not chosen, they may be elected by the people of that province, though such a case has not happened in Rekōdo's history.


    The Seconds of Rekōdo

    Each Guild Master has the privilege of choosing a Second, their right hand and most trusted advisor. In the event of an emergency or incompetence of a Guild Master, the Second of each province can be instated as the Acting Guild Master of their province, giving them full power, authority and political strength of an actual Guild Master. The Second of the province is one greatly considered to be next to receive the Ancestral Spirit upon the passing of the Guild Master, though that is not always the case. Traditionally, the Second is one born within the boundaries of the province they assist and is fluent in their ways, magiks and traditions. A Second can act as a diplomat, an ambassador, and a figurehead. They are treated with utmost respect and adhered to with only the Guild Master and the ruler of Rekōdo above them to veto their words.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 10-14-2017 at 07:41 PM.
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  2. #2
    The Six Provinces of Rekōdo

    Rekodo City is at the heart of the Country of Rekōdo and is the epicenter of its magik. On all sides it is surrounded by the 6 Provinces. Rekōdo City itself does not cater or favor one specific province, but like any big city with a vast network of cultures, it has sections that are "Little Provinces" and sport the colors, fashion, foods, educational advancement and practices of a particular province.

    Below are the Five Provinces and their current Council Members:


    The Province of Taroc
    Guild Master: Alain LeCavalier
    Founding Spirit: Clow
    Colors: Red & Gold
    Tradition of Magik: Divination


    The Taroc are a very serious people for their art and do not take the magik they do as lightly as the other provinces do. They came from the West originally, navigating by the stars and guided by them to what would be Rekōdo. Their destiny brought them to this land. Their primary practice is in predictions, fortune, and prophesy: the Arts of Divination. Many from this province are the "authors" of the predictive texts. They are a people constantly trying to advance their magik and sight through harnessing the magik of foresight with tarot cards, star-reading, reading tea leaves, prophetic writing and vision-seeing. Initially, they were the gypsies and fortune-tellers of the land, but have since grown into a powerful province of sophistication, might and dedication. There are orders and temples dedicated to the specialization of each of the areas of Divination. The land of Taroc ranges from ocean cliffside in the north to rolling hills where wild horses roam, long stretches of grassland for farming and ranching and warm southern beaches. It was a woman called Deanna of the Hills, born of the first people of Taroc, who was said to have captured the heart of Liar'Adon the Creator and as favor her people were gifted with the Stars in the night's sky. It is said that the Taroc are an arrogant people, but who could not be proud of such a rich, strong history?

    The capital city is Clow. It is the largest city and boats a wealth of fruition from hundreds of years of hard work. Taroc boasts the most developed cities of all the Provinces. It also has the most extensive coastline and strongest fleet of ships, both air and naval. The island of Faraking is home to the floating Heli'Dom, the largest telescope in Rekōdo. The people of Taroc are everything from sailors to farmers, to visionaries, to seers, and businessmen, ranchers and traditional gypsies. Their strength of unity and organization rivals all other provinces and is one of their greatest assets. They are varied, but they are extremely loyal. Taroc is located on the Western most border of Rekōdo City.


    The Province of Shamaa
    Guid Master: Mindoka
    Founding Spirit: Siochana
    Colors: Brown & Blue
    Tradition of Magik: Earthen/Spirit Magik


    Natural Magik is one of the oldest magiks known to man. It dictates that everything (people, animals, plants, rivers, mountains, etc.), everything natural, not man-made, has a Spirit that can be called upon to guide, help or give information etc. This is known as Animism. The Shamaa are the only ones who can naturally call upon these Spirits. The Shamaa can see into the 'Spirit World' (sometimes thought to be the Dream World) where these spirits dwell. The Shamaa are very traditional and many remain in their tribal formations and lodgings. Some have adapted to city life, but adhere to traditions during sacred times. Many think them barbaric when more sophisticated living is available to their world. Though the Shamaa are among the native peoples of Rekōdo, it is they who have the most people who have talents for Dream Walking, waking or sleeping freely in the World of Dreams with control and without the use of a Totem. The Shamman also have a master of herbology and potions, making them among the best naturalists and makers of old potions and medicine. Each person born a Shamaa as an Animal Spirit to guide them. In essence, it is like a Familiar or patronus, personifying the person's soul in animal form. A Shamaa man or woman can undergo a Rite of Passage by venturing into the Tiarna Wood, the oldest place in Rekōdo, where old, wild magik still reigns. There, they drink the waters there- water that nullifies all magik ability- and have visions. By this, they can become honored members of their tribes. The Shamaan are among the greatest animorphs, taking on the appearance of their spirit guide or projecting them.

    The people of Shamaa often dress naturally, using natural things such as animals, bones, furs, skins etc. over man-made fabrics. Their land is rich in unspoiled beauty. The edge of the Hundred Year Plains skirts across their northwestern border with Taroc and to the south and east are lush, ancient forests steeped in lore and Old Magik. Shamaa hosts two great lake-riverways. One flows to the north and out along the Taroc-Maginus border, the other South into the Sea of Sul. Tradisi shelters a deep trench called Echo Deep where ancient creatures are rumored to lurk. The forests melt into moist marshlands on its southern-most hook where is borders the Wilderlands. The capital, Siochana is nestled directly in the middle of the lakes at the heart of the Province. Shamaa is located on the Southern most border of Rekōdo City.


    The Province of Astral
    Guild Master: Herotus
    Founding Spirit: Dayena
    Colors: Purple & Yellow
    Tradition of Magik: Illusionary & Creative


    To the Southeast of Rekōdo City is the luxurious and lush Province of Astral. Its western border is lined with border forests that mirror Shamaa's. Its center is rich in the lush southern grasslands of the edge of the Hundred Year Plains. A river and lake near the capital city of Dayena divide the Province into its wealthy upper half and naturally beautiful and peaceful lower half. The eastern portion of the province is tropical and a tourist hot-spot. While it touches no oceans, Siadharri and all of Lake Doras make up for that. the Zhido Canal, which divides Lake Doras from the Da'Jinn-controlled Lake Anaya, is rich in trade. Adaya's Temple upon the lake is a mecca for those craving the wilds of night life. The mysterious Six Stones of Past lie in the southern heart of the Province and the infamous White Towers of Dayena are where all, regardless of their province of birth, who have talent in the White Light of Healing go to pursue their training.

    It is a beautiful province and it is filled with beautiful people. Astral puts a lot of value in the created as much as the real. The Arts are honed and perfected in Astral and it boasts the best artists, dancers, musician, sculptors, painters, singers and healers. They are also the most crafty, employing some of the best illusionists, magician and inventors. They are expert mathematicians and have found ways to bend geometrics and physics to the will of their magik. Astral spends a vast amount of time trying to create a world where anything and everything is accepted and possible. It is a province wealthy with talent and beauty, both in their terrain and people. The Astrals are chiseled pieces of human perfection, more self-centered than their naturally-centered neighbors to the west. The people of Astralian are a semi-self centered people, feeding their ego with the images they project and maintain. Their bodies are flaunted in their tropical climate and exotic, sometimes seen as scandalous, garb. Much stock is put into their physical appearances. Astralians are among the most beautiful and exotic-looking people of Rekōdo.


    The Province of Da'Jinn
    Guild Mistress: Jinai
    Founding Spirit: J'Adonai
    Colors: Orange & Green
    Tradition of Magik: Elemental & Wish/Fate[/B]

    To the East of Rekōdo City lies the dry Province of Da'Jinn. Opposite of Taroc, the people of Da'Jinn are ancient nomads that came to Rekōdo from the Far East, across the Shifting Sands and Desert Eternal Sun. They are a skeptical people, a self-isolated people steeped in ancient, undying tradition. Its fully desert-like climate makes for little change in a vastly nomadic people who travel to great cities and out again as quickly as they entered. Some use portals, traveling long, magikal routes from the Ancestral Ruins, mapped out eons ago by their ancestors, to doorways in the desert- though the old ways have long fallen into abandon and disrepair with the inescapable influence of modern magik. Most of its population prefer a more physical movement among the desert with tents and beasts of burden. Their harsh, strict lifestyles are opposite to much of the other provinces in Rekōdo. Because of its unwavering glue to tradition and nomadism, Da'Jinn has the least amount and least-populated cities in all of Rekōdo. The only exceptions are J'Adonai, its capital and the most western of cities where the hub of trade and western politics mingle with eastern goods and fares and Mararat, the city farthest east and richest in merchants and their wares from across the desert. Mararat's population shifts seasonally with the occasional nomadic tribe stopping in for supplies before moving out again. Lake Anaya and the Sea of Serpens provide water of food, but little else in the ways of income and tourism due to their arid and fluctuation in supremely hot and bitter cold climates.

    The magikal forte of the Da'Jinn are wishes and fate. Their Provincial name literally means 'masters of Jinn.' A Jinn is an elemental force of nature birthed from the elements. The two main types are the Jinn (spirits of air) and the Efreet (spirits of fire). Earthen and Water-based Jinn exist, but those elements are scarce among the hot, airy desert landscape. Both are incredibly powerful and difficult to deal with if you are not a Da'Jinn. To better master them, the Da'Jinn have Totems hidden on their person to help control their Jinn of Efreet. These Totems can be anything from a necklace to a nose-ring to a gold cap on a tooth, but are traditionally something precious. Some Jinn are confined to lamps and sold into the markets of Rekōdo as genies- spirits who grant wishes. It is an archaic practice, but still used especially among the nomads, to sell people into the bonds of such or other types of servitude. The bands on their wrists and legs mark them as bound servants to pay off a magikal debt by bringing wishes and fortune to those who possess their prison (lamp). The Da'Jinn dress in long garb and wear turban or wrap-styled hats to avoid the desert heat, wind and sand. Women, especially those married into or daughter of great wealth, often wear a shawl over their hair and faces and vast amounts of sculpted jewelry to show off such wealth. it is a highly partiarchal society where women have little sway.


    The Province of Maginus
    Guild Master: Darmon
    Founding Spirit: Arxus
    Color: Black & Dark Blue
    Tradition of Magik: The Dark Arts


    The Northern-most Province is set in a colder, more hilly and mountainous climate and it's reflected in their wardrobe. The Magini wear long, layered robes, high-necked sweaters and everything wrapped in additional shawls and cloaks. Maginus has a strict caste system with little upward movement for those who are not so fortunate to be in their upper crust. Theirs is the power based from witchcraft and warlockery, of ancient runes and dark rituals centuries old. The Dark Arts often involves blood rites and rituals of the oldest kind, from the age when people were primal and sacrificed or worshipped in exchange for power. Many of the modern Magini specialize in the Soul, ancient runes and creatures of lore. Controversially, there is still much in the way of Necromancy, especially among the High Priesthood. Ancient, family power is revived through ritual surrounding the deceased. While considered taboo and against nature, re-animation of the dead or the re-use of Souls is a practice that has not fully been extinguished in Maginus.

    The Province of Maginus is a place that has know warfare for much of its life, and it is reflected in the reflected cities it has populated along its borders with other provinces. The cities of Windf'rte, Elve and Krig all stand across the border from another province's major city in a defensive gesture. The northern-most province of Rekōdo sees the Hills of Deanna swell into steep hillsides of the Northern Hills along the entirety of it's western and northwestern half. It boasts it's own cliffside shorelines along the throat of the Bay of Rekōdo that it shares with Taroc. The southern, eastern and northeastern entirety of the province is the drier, alee portion of the grasslands of the Hundred Year Plains. the mountains, the vast Great Swells eat up the entire northern portion of the province. The city of Arx, its capital, it protected from its greatest rivals in Taroc, by the southern-most tip of the mountains. Well forged trails and roadways lead into the Great Hold, the stronghold and mightiest fortress of Maginus. It is home to the Guild Master, the High Priests and the greatest Maginus has to offer. In the Dragon Range, along the border with the Unsettled Lands, Maginus has station Lesser Holds in defense against their never-ending disagreement with the Dragons that live beyond. The Hydros islands in the Sea of Serpens by its border with Da'Jinn are, scornfully, the only islands Maginus can lay claim to in either of it's watery borders.


    The Islands of Enchantry
    Guild Mistress: Nalia
    Founding Spirit: None
    Color: Green & Black
    Tradition of Magik: Totem Discovery & Creation


    Enchantry is located in a scattered grouping of islands called the Aile Bones between Taroc's Faraking Island and the western coastline of Maginus. The closest island to the mainland boasts the city of Capios, the single city and capital of the newest and smallest province in Rekōdo. The Guild was founded recently by Nalia al'Vatar, whose exiled birthright is Astral. the purpose of Enchantry stems from Nalia's passion: the discovery, unearthing and education of old artifacts on the islands called Totems. Totems are anything magikal in origin from the early eras of Rekōdo that heighten a specific magikal ability. Stone rings on a necklace are Totems often found on people who wish to Dreamwalk, though such artifacts are not handed out lightly. Totems are most prevalent in two places in Rekōdo: The Aile Bones and the Tiarna Woods. The only other place to still have Old Magik is in the territories around Rekōdo: The Unsettled Lands and the Wilderlands. The Ailes are terribly old and riddled with ruins and artifacts. Some have potentially dangerous power. Enchantry has made it its mission to find, catalogue and distribute as necessary to the Guilds where they would best fit any Totems that are uncovered within the boundaries of Rekōdo. They are stored and studied by the people of Enchantry. Some artifacts have unknown abilities and women who tried their power have died using them. They are the keepers of all great artifacts found in the Provinces of Rekōdo.

    Nalia's talents are not something that stem from her birthright and, though she was exiled and trained in both Maginus and Taroc, she created Enchantry so that any who felt out-of-place in their own homeland had a haven where they could potentially employ their talents. Unfortunately, men are shown to have a harder time adjusting to the constant hum of the Old magik that permeates the Ailes. To prevent a civil war within the city-guild, and to prevent any permanent damage from the madness brought on by the Old Magik, the men were expelled from the Ailes. The province of Enchantry is the only Guild that is open exclusively and entirely to women. The term for the women is Enchantresses. The name usually refers to the magik of coercion and control, but such things are illegal.

    The Aile Bones are a small smattering of land within the cold, northern waters of the Ocean of Liar'Adon. The islands range from beautiful hillsides to rough, craggy outcroppings of rock jutting from the water. The climate is moist, receiving much rain that makes the hillsides a rich emerald green. The summers are cool and the winters cold and snowy. Trade with the mainland if prevalent to the function of the Enchantry Guild, though extended stay is not recommended for many who are not accustomed to the constant feel of Old Magik. The City of Capios is the only developed city on the Ailes, though the Enchantresses and their Novices often make excursion out into the other islands through the use of old Totems that were fashioned as teleportal stones linked to the larger of the Ailes. Though small, Enchantry's influence on Rekōdo if great. It is a link to the past and a gateway to the future for many who do not fit the provincial norms of their world.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 10-14-2017 at 07:35 PM.

  3. #3
    Index of the First Thread for Emporium

    _+CHAPTER 1: In The Beginning+_
    Pages 1 - ?

    ((Descriptions of the chapters and information on what happens in them is forthcoming. It will take time, so please be patient as this part of the new thread will be undergoing constant construction.))


    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 10-14-2017 at 07:48 PM.

  4. #4
    Currently on Emporium...

    At the Heart of Rekōdo City...

    Rekōdo is beginning to be consumed by the chaos and turmoil left in the wake of the missing Princess, who was taken at the height of her Coronation by the High Chronicler of Magik after the Guild Masters were attacked and rendered Unconscious. It was unclear what motivations the man, Emit Shornoc, who held the third highest station in all of Rekōdo would have that would lead him to kidnap the heir to the golden throne. It had been weeks and they had not been found. With their Princess gone and the Prince in hiding for his own protection, the people of Rekōdo looked to their Guild Masters, the leaders of their Provinces and seats on the Royal High Council for guidance, for answers, for anything. Since the coronation where they were attacked, all six Guild Masters had been eerily absent. In a time when their people were afraid and needed them most, their presence, their voice, their reason was gone. Rumors have begun to spread and have seized the frightened hearts of the masses like wildfire, rumors that the Guild Masters were powerless, captured, enslaved, dead. There were reports of fighting in Astral, of Taroc and Shamaa troops slaughtered and Da'Jinn's betrayal. There is even a new rumor steamrolling over all others that has instilled panic upon a near-leaderless people: The Ancestral Spirits had been lost.

    Each Guild Master is chosen upon the death of their predecessor by the Founding Spirit of their Province, the admirably-called Ancestral Spirit of their land who passes on the knowledge and history of every Guild Master before them and the province which they lead. Those Spirits, the light and memory of their world had been taken or had left the Guild Masters. It is unclear which, if either, are the truth behind the lack-of-presence of the Six Guild Masters of Rekōdo. The hearts of the Six Provinces, Rekōdo City, is beginning to show the fractures of stress and fear. Rioting has begun to sweep through the streets. Crime and murder are rising and the tentative Treaty of Tradisi that ended the Great War but two decades earlier is now teetering on a dangerous precipice. If the Princess is not found, the royal line restored or the Guild Masters returned to calm their frightened provinces, Rekōdo could fall hopelessly into a war that will not stop until the world on which they live burns.



    In the West...

    Darmon of Maginus has been murdered. The Guild Master of Maginus's corpse was found atop the ruined portion of the Great Hold at Arx after a supposed altercation between the Nalia, the Guild Mistress of Enchantry and her Second, Kali. The explosion that jettisoned heavy stones into the surrounding cityside of Arx was felt as an earthquake from the Aile Bones east into the border of Da'Jinn and into the northern tip of Rekōdo City. The High Priests of Maginus determined that Nalia al'Vatar was the one who murdered their Master. They sensed the presence of the Nightmare energy she housed within herself and launched an immediate counterattack upon the Guild of Enchantry for her treachery. They were joined by the might of the Da'Jinn's army of sand soldiers, fiery Jinn and watery Efreet. The body of Darmon of Maginus was taken down into the depths of the Great Hold at Arx.

    Nalia of Enchantry, heavily pregnant with the forbidden love-child of she and the Guild Master of Taroc, fled into the Aile Bones where she met the Dire Wolves. She fell under their protection, as they existed on the Ailes with the soul, mysterious purpose of protecting Enchantry. Her Second, Kali, fled to Taroc under Nalia's orders to find Alain, its Guild Master. The Master of Taroc had at his hidden fortress the imprisoned Adaya Second of Astral, Branwen Second of Shamaa, and prince Eri of Rekōdo. They received Branwen and, after having met with the lost Princess in the World of Dreams, formulated a plan to free her from Da'Jinn. Having learned the truth of how Nalia began Enchantry and the truth of its name and the Forgotten Province of Rekōdo from the Princess, Alain attempted to contact the fleeing Nalia and, when talks of having her seek asylum with him failed, an Agent of Taroc, Olivia Kuhrson, found her and put Nalia under her protection. Arion bar Sohil, the Second of Taroc returned from Mararat in Da'Jinn after an altercation with Jinai's Second. Arion had tracked the Princess to Da'Jinn and was attacked when he demanded her safe return. He was badly injured, but became the Acting Guild Master of Taroc in Alain's stead as he headed off to Da'Jinn to free the Princess.

    During the Maginus-Da'Jinn assault on Capios, Nalia convinced the O'aris to aid her people. In efforts with a fleet of Taroc's naval ships and three Celestial Airships, Arion lead a defensive measure for Enchantry. The might of Da'Jinn was defeated, and it was with the assistance of a ghostly remnant of a pirate vessel, the Raven's Triumph, that Captain Jacob Petrov, his undead crew, and the might of Taroc defeated those who sought harm to Enchantry. Arion, already badly injured from his fight in Da'Jinn, returned to the Heli'Dom on Faraking Island where he was placed into sleep so that his extensive injuries could be healed.

    But a threat lingered on the Cliffs of Maginus. A man was there among the chanting Priests. Caldur Eirikson of Isolert held aloft the Dragon Staff of Darmon of Maginus, the murdered Guild Master, and has proclaimed himself the new Guild Master of Maginus.



    In the East...

    ... there is treachery. Herotus and Adaya, twin siblings and the respective Guild Master and Second of Astral lead the Guild Master of Shamaa, his Second and hundreds of Taroc and Shamaa soldiers to captivity and death. Adaya had sought the council of Mindoka of Shamaa and plead with him for protection from Da'Jinn. In their weakened state, the Second and her Master feared that the more powerful might of Da'Jinn would come raining down on the much weaker and less organized Astral and crush them. For the sake of peace, Mindoka lead his warriors and a large escort of Taroc troops from their brother-province to the west, into the heart of Astral in order to disperse presence and aid. They were lead right into a trap. Adaya, the temptress, had moved among the troops and every man or woman she touched tuned on her their brothers and sisters at arms upon Herotus's command. Nearly all were lost in the self-slaughter. Mindoka of Shamaa was captured and brought before Jinai of Da'Jinn, the grand architect of the entire plan's design.

    In the East, there is betrayal. As part of the plan, Jinai bound Mindoka into the Servitude of the Lamp and made him a mindless, commanded genie. What Herotus did not know was that there was a Lamp for him as well and Jinai bound him to the same fate as the Guild Master he betrayed. Adaya was sent scampering to Taroc for asylum.

    Jinai of Da'Jinn, the first woman to ever have the title of Guild Master in her land, sought to conquer the lands of Rekōdo in the name of the Empire of Da'Jinn in the Far East across the Desert of Eternal Sun. It was she and her Second, Majed ibn Eyad, who attempted to steal the Ancestral Spirits from the Guild Masters of Rekōdo along with the hereditary power of the Princess at her coronation. What Jinai did not know was that Emporium sought balance and the Spirits did not go to her as she had planned. They went, instead, into the Princess of Rekōdo. Having foresaw this with her ability to Dream Walk, the Princess sought the help of the most powerful, neutral and loyal person she knew: The High Chronicler of Magik, keeper of the Central Library, and recorder of all of Rekōdo's deeds and history. It was he who took the unconscious Princess from the dangers of her coronation and fled. Jinai's Second tracked and set a trap for the High Chronicler and brought he and the unwakeable Princess to the city of Mararat in Da'Jinn.

    Far from the prying, shambled eyes of the West, the Second of Da'jinn tortured the High Chronicler of Magik until a way to wake the Princess was found. She protected herself and the Spirits in the World of Dreams. When Jinai entered the World where the Princess hid, the presence of the two genied Guild Masters tore their Ancestral Spirits from the Princess's mind and forced her to wake up. She was imprisoned with the intention of having the rest of the Spirits ripped from her Soul and shackled to the same fate as Mindoka of Shamaa and Herotus of Astral. All for the sake of honor-restored to the exiled inhabitants of the Province of Da'Jinn and the glory of the Far East that cared not for them any longer.



    And Now in Rekōdo...

    In the wake of the attack, Enchantry searches for its Mistress. As the chaos of defense is rerouted into order and rebuilding, the head Enchantresses of Nalia's Council send two of their own into the Ailes to find her and bring her home. They encountered the Dire Wolves and were attacked. Nalia healed the gravely injured Sister with her uncontrolled White Light of Healing and fell into deep unconsciousness. As restitution for their actions, Sisters were escorted by the Dire Wolves back to Capios and the City is now under their watchful protection. Olivia, powerful in the ways of Necromatic Arts through her Maginus lineage recalled her friends on the Raven's Triumph to the Ailes to bring she and Nalia away from Rekōdo and into the safety of whatever lay beyond the Ocean of Liar'Adon. The two Sisters of Enchantry returned to Capios as Kali returned and news broke of the possible resurrection of Darmon of Maginus. Nalia's secret affair and impending child were revealed to the Council of Enchantry and the threat of fracturing between the Sisters loomed. In Shamaa, Branwen and Udaya are facing similar tensions with the heads of their tribes. Order must be restored to their world before it descends completely into chaos.

    Alain of Taroc lead a team consisting of Branwen of Shamaa, Kali of Enchantry, the prisoner Adaya of Astral, Prince Eri of Rekōdo and his two personal guards to Shamaa. There, they ventured to where the two rivers converged at the hut of Udaya. The seemingly imbalanced wise woman of Shamaa gave them access to the ancient Paths the Da'Jinn used to travel farther West into Rekōdo undetected. They used these same Paths to travel through the Desert of Eternal Sun long, long ago when they were exiled here and sought to keep trade with their old homeland. The Paths, an eerie, silent darkness with lit passageways of stone, were maddening and drove Adaya of Astral to insanity. The rest of Alain's team made it to Mararat unscathed before the desolate, vast emptiness and nothingness laid claim to their minds. In Jinai's floating palace, they encountered the violent Qadir, a man bonded with Jinn of fire into a burning, onyx monster. The once-man fought but was slain by the Prince of Rekōdo, but not before claiming one of his eyes with his daggers. The severity of the battle caused Jinai's palace to fall onto the shore of Lake Anaya. Before she could be capture, Majed ibn Eyad took his Guild Mistress and fled. The whereabouts of Jinai and her Second are unknown. Alain had completed his mission. The Princess was freed and in his custody. Mararat was in the custody of Taroc's soldiers. The suicide of Adaya of Astral, who had betrayed Taroc and Shamaa was barely mourned among such a victory.

    But there was trouble at home. A group called The Circle sought to undo Alain's hold on his title as Guild Master of Taroc. They knew the truth of the missing Ancestral Spirits and of his affair and forbidden, expected child with Nalia of Enchantry. They sought to undo him. A group of eerie seers, the Five Sisters of Mirian- who never leave the city of their namesake- appeared before the Guild Master within the ruins to Jinai's palace. Unhappy with him, they sent him into a deep sleep and focused their prophetic words on the Princess and the rest of Alain's rescue party.

    In the World of Dreams, Alain and Nalia were reunited. He told his lover of the Princess's vow to renounce the laws that forbade them from being together and convinced her to come to him in Da'Jinn. The High Chronicler of Magik was sent back to Rekōdo City to find information on how to free Mindoka of Shamaa and Herotus of Astral from their genie lamps. He was captured by the High Guard of Rekōdo, but not before he could send an ancient Da'Jinn tome to the Princess. His fate is unknown.

    Nalia arrived in Mararat aboard the Raven's Triumph after a harrowing journey through the Spirit Realm. It was the quickest way to deliver her to Da'Jinn and, with the missing Ancestral Spirits throwing the balance of the Spirit World into chaos, they were attacked by Spirits lead by Olivia's Necromancer father. It was with the intervention of the Spirit of Nalia's mother than Undead Captain and his crew sailed the ghost ship safely into the living world once more. Before the Princess and Prince, Nalia, Alain and Olivia learned of the new living threat in Maginus: Caldur Eirikson. Princess Pasce revealed to them the truth of the origins of the Dragon Staff and Darmon's plans for devastating annihilation of their world with it. It was discovered that Nalia could not have taken Darmon's life if she can wield the White Light of Healing and all signs pointed to the self-proclaimed Guild Master of a Maginus as the murderer.

    Now, the Soul of the Master of Maginus has been returned to his body. The Undead Guild Master has only one thought: revenge on Nalia of Enchantry and the destruction of all she holds dear. He has made his way to Capios with an army of Nightmares beside him. The Prince is being sent back to Rekōdo City to govern and lead in the Princess's stead until she is fit to rule again. If she is ever fit to rule again. Carrying seven Ancestral Spirits has taken its toll on the young Princess. Her body is dying. If she passes before the Spirits can be safely released back to their Guild Masters, then they could fall under the power of Caldur of Maginus. Then, all would be lost.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 10-14-2017 at 11:28 PM.

  5. #5
    ((Continued from here.))


    Windf'rte in The Province of Maginus... The Temple of Souls




    Sacha, The Shepherd of Souls and Nitya of Sahil, a servant to the Temple


    The chaos was different this time. He knew, stepping into the water, that it would be. He went anyway because it was his job.

    The water was thick, and the ripples that came from where he walked were slow. His movements were slow as he lifted the twisted, blue Shepherd's Crook above his head. He held it pointed in the direction he was going and though the waters only came up to his thighs, he held the staff aloft with both as if readying to strike at something. When the stairs met the level ground of the pool, Sacha's movements slowed. The ripples faltered and died too close to his body, as if the farther he walked, the further he went away from the place where live motion mattered. Where ripples mattered. Ripples meant something living moved. Before his movement could die completely, Sacha released the spear-end of his staff and twirled it by its hook high above his head. It made a noise in the air, a soft hum as if sliced and moved through the air above and behind his head. Whenever it arched back down, his second hand caught it and moved it back upward into the air again. Before him, above him, beside him, never quite touching the water before lifting again until the runes carved into and along the twisted staff began to glow a light purple in color. The pool around him began to hum in perfect pitch with the motions of the staff until the sound of it echoed and ricocheted off the arched ceilings above the waters. The air around him grew dark and the blue Soulfire along the arches became the only light. Just it and the glowing archaic spell carved into his staff. The hum grew louder, maddeningly intense until Sacha swung the staff upwards and held it aloft as a perfect vertical extension of his body. The humming echoed, reverberated and moved in a decreasing wave down the entire length of the temple until there was silence.

    Sacha rotated the staff around from behind him grabbed it's crooked end when it was perfectly perpendicular with the water and then yelled out loudly as he threw all his weight into thrusting the Shepherd's hook straight down into the water.

    A tear appeared in the water, as if he'd pierced the membrane of an egg. Violet and violent light opened before him as he began to stir the light in the water. He moved forward again, scribing runes in the violet light with two fingertips of his hand as he went. Though the pool never went above one's waist, he began to disappear into the smoky blue water. The staff held before him was like a diviner rod, dividing the water all around him and filling its absence with violet light until he completely disappeared within it. For a moment, there was a volatile mixture of water and otherworldly light. As if faded, the Soulfire of the temple dimmed until there was an eerie darkness in the large, open space. Nitya stood rigidly where she was as she watched Sacha disappear into the water. From the Soulfire's half-hearted glow, mist began to pour in and cover the top of the water. Nitya had seen this before. This had all happened before. Many times before. He disappeared into the water. The fires dimmed. The mist came. She took a step forward, just as she had done each time, to make sure he'd gone. But this time she was shaking.

    Something was not right.

    A moment later, the sounds of screaming began to fill the air of the city surrounding the temple.


    -+-


    Something was very wrong.

    The Shepherd walked among the fog and mist of the Spirit Realm. It was eerily silent. Eerily absent. he could feel the presence of Spirits around him, but he saw none. He felt something else too, something that, again, he could not see. He could smell it, almost. A foul sense of something he could not quite place. Not a smell. Not a sight.

    There was a grating sound, like nails on a chalkboard to his right. Sacha whipped around and pointed the arrowed end of the crosier into the fog. He held it perfectly horizontal, an extension of his arm. He trailed the echo of the horrible sound as it moved past him, behind him and away. Sacha kept the twisted rod parallel against his arm and walked. His dangerously keen blue eyes shifted and darted as he surveyed the misty Realm. A day earlier, moments even, it had been teeming with hell-bent Souls. Imbalanced by the shift of the Ancestral Spirits to one source, the Souls of the dead were driven into a maddened frenzy. He had been attacked ruthlessly while trying to shepherd the newly arrived Spirits on to their final rest, if they were meant to have such. The one source was far to the east. He had spoken of this to no one. It was dangerous information to know that Arxus had not been within Darmon of Maginus for some time. That no Guild Master had their Founder with them.

    Sacha gripped the half-arrow of his staff and flung the shepherd's loop forward into the mist. He extended himself as far as he dared and then stepped back with a hard yank of his staff. A spirit came with it, head trapped within the runes glowing around the loophole of the crosier. It writhed and hissed and howled. It clawed at the thing that held it prisoner. A man once in life, from the Capital City he decided by a quick study of his Astralian-colored attire. He had faded, rose-colored hair and would have been quite tall in life. The man, now acting more like an animal than a man, wore the tattered remains of a long suede coat of dark purple. The rebellious spikes of his hair moved on the ethereal winds by which only the dead could feel and be moved. Sacha pulled the dead spirit closer, but not close enough to be scratched. He lifted a hand to the man's face and stared hard into the Spirit's glowing eyes. He pulled back and the Spirit's head moved as if tugged forward. The Shepherd's robes fell down his arm which was riddled with scars. Sacha's eyes narrowed. He stopped, moved his hand closer to the ghoul's face and pulled back again with more strain. The spirit's mouth opened and on a voice sounding like more breath than words, the man spoke.


    ~Nightmares~

    The whispery voice ended in a long, drawn out hiss. Sacha's white brow furrowed. Nightmares?

    ~Sacha~

    He looked up from the spirit's eyes and around. He and the spirit were moved to absolute stillness by the voice. Sacha turned, trying to place the voice's location.

    ~Sacha... Sa... cha...~

    It seemed to whisper from everywhere, which had meaning to him. The Shepherd of Souls turned back to the spirit and shook his staff had three times. The runes lost their glow and the Spirit slipped free. Sacha brought his crosier erect and upright. He bowed to the Spirit and then turned and ran into the fog and mist.

    ~Sa- ~
    ~Sacha~

    He ran faster.

    ~Sacha~

    He spun his blue crook out before him, loophole behind him, half arrowhead facing forward.

    ~Sa- ~
    ~Sach- ~
    ~-cha~
    ~Sacha~
    ~SACHA~

    He scribed in the air as he ran and left a trailing spell of runes in his wake. They glowed hotly, like irons. When he reached the end of his spell, he leapt and jabbed the pointed to forward.


    -+-


    "Sacha!"

    Nitya yelled his name pushed her way through the thick water of the pool. She had to find him, but her movement in the water was slow as if she tromped through a bog and the weight of the mud and grim were pulling her down.

    "Sacha!" she called out again desperately, afraid. Alla round her people in Windf'rte were screaming. When she'd gone to the balcony, she'd seen some jump to their deaths in the icy water below. Theere were dark things in the streets, the air. Their movement blotted out the nighttime stars. She had been desperate enough to plunge into the water to find him, but he was not there.

    "Sacha!" she screamed and felt her weight double in the water. It was only as deep as her waist, but it pulled her down. "Sacha, please! Answer me!"

    A moment later, the water was pierced sharply by the end of his signature crook. Violet light streamed upward from the tear as Sacha pulled himself forward and out. His blue eyes assessed the temple and found Nitya in the water. He waded through it and grabbed her arm. He did not weave the violet light into the water to make his travel easier. There was no time. Behind him, the membrane-like water sealed itself back up. The violet light disappeared like a setting sun and the flickering light of the temple's fire overtook the air again. Sacha looped his strong arm around Nitya's back and pulled her along through the water.

    "Never in the water" he chastised harshly as he drug her toward the stairs. "I will always hear your call. Never the water. It is not safe."

    He hoisted Nitya up onto the stairs and the soaking pair made a heavy plop noise as they collapsed onto the level floor of the temple. He breathed heavily and stared at her.

    "Why did you go in the water?" his voice was fast, quiet. He did not want her to suffer from her father for this. She was weeping. She was shaking. "Why, Nitya? You know that-"

    A piercing shriek cut him off. Nitya covered her head in her hands and shook.

    Sacha stood up and looked out toward the wide balcony before him. He reached down and grabbed Nitya's arm andpulled her up.

    "Stay behind me" he commanded her. Mutely, she obeyed. She reached out and pinched the back of his robe between her fingers. Normally, he would scold her for that, but this was different. Something was very wrong.

    Another scream, this one from above and someone flung themselves from the top of the temple. The sound of their agony as they fell grew loud and then faded away with a sickening thud as the body his the cliffs. Nitya's hand jerked on Sacha's robes and she ducked into him. He threw out an arm to shield her, but his intense blue eyes watched the man fall. How had someone gotten to the top of the temple!? Sacha looked up and his mouth fell open. He saw them. Hundreds, no, thousands of black grotesque shapes floated through the nighttime air. They came from Windf'rte and glided out to the sea past the cliffs.

    "Sacha" Nitya whispered with calm dread in her voice. "What are those things?"

    He recognized that the screaming he'd heard in the air all around them was slowly going silent again as these things departed. Sacha's breathing intensified and his eyes went wide as he watched them pass high overhead. He felt a shiver course through his body. He remembered the undead voice that he'd asked a very similar question to in the Spirit Realm. Sacha's eyes tracked them as he and Nitya hunkered a bit lower to avoid extraneous detection by the things above. They all moved at the same pace due west. His eyes narrowed as he watched them all form a thick line and continue onward, west, with one figurehead at its front.

    "Nightmares" he said. There was only one person known to have such abilities, but she was in hiding. She had killed someone using that filthy dark power. Sacha looked to the figurehead floating on winds felt only by those who were not of this life anymore. Sacha swore under his breath.

    "We have to go. Now."

    He spun around, grabbed Nitya's hand and roughly pulled her back into the shadows of the temple.

  6. #6
    ((Continued from here.))


    The City of Mararat in Da'Jinn To the Far East of Rekōdo: Jinai’s Fallen Palace

    Attachment 1638 Attachment 2240


    Pasce, Princess of Rekōdo, Prince Eri, his guards Ganard of House Fallandor and Merelin of House Diorna, and Nalia of Enchantry



    Nalia put a hand to her heart as if it were going to break. Her nails dug lightly into her skin as she took an unconscious step back from the princess, from them all. Her emerald eyes left the seated royal and fell distantly down and away from them all. Her mouth opened and work on words, but none came out. Alain would feel their mental connection dim as if she were moving far and away from him. She dove and tore through her own mind. She searched and rooted and upended everything down into the farthest reaches of her mind. There was nothing. They were gone from her.

    "How?" she asked in a voice that was soft and wrought with grief. Her eyes looked back up to the Princess, who stared down at her with eyes that tried to abandon the pity she felt.

    "Did you ever use that power on him?" The Princess's tone was particular. She knew Nalia's whole life. Hers was an open book to the royal heiress, just as every ruling relative before hers has been. Nalia sense the loaded question, but that did not make it easier to answer.

    "Yes" she answered honestly in the presence of royalty. Her voice sounded as if it were about to break apart. "Twice."

    The Princess visibly inhaled. She knew of the first time. Both she and Alain would know of it because it was shown to them. A memory form the day the idea of of Enchantry was born at the Heli'Dom on Faraking Island. A beaten and bloodied young girl sat and shivered with a Guild Master on his knees before her. A warm, moist towel. A bowl of hot water. Gentleness. An idea. The Princess tried not to look at Alain, only at Nalia.

    "The last was at Arx?" Pasce avoided the topic of the first time, for her sake. Nalia's link to Alain was still there, though weak. He would see flashes between their linked minds. Bits of memory playing in her head as she recalled her use of the dark power. Once in Arx, the same room, but with him above her, hurting her. There was a scorch mark at his throat, a hand print around his wrist. The second time after he'd pinned her down, touched the protective womb where their child lay, after his hand had delved down purposefully too far. he'd whispered the things he was going to do to her, to their child. Nalia had attacked him. Nightmare ichor was fed to him from her palms. It dripped from his eyes, his nose and mouth. It filled him. She almost had not stopped. If it hadn't been for Alain, for their child, she could not have stopped.

    "Yes, highness."

    Nalia looked down. Her hands were before her. She was picking at the skin of her fingernails. She never did that. Her hands were shaking. It was too keep anyone from seeing just how badly this was ruining her. Alain would know this, from years of training her, raising her, supporting her. He knew this was her worst nightmare come true. She had allowed the Nightmares to be freed. They were at Capios. Capios was doomed.

    The Princess saw the woman's turmoil and allowed the pity she felt to be seen. Pasce turned to her brother and reached out her healed hand. He came to her, knelt and took it in his own. She squeezed his hand. There was a different look in her eyes now. Well masked and slightly unreadable, but there. Pasce placed the parchment scroll in Eri's hand and re-closed it with her own.

    "Rekōdo needs you, Eri. Please take care of her until I return home."

    Her brother bowed his head and looked up at her with his only eye. He'd inherited a new one in the tin box he held at his side. His lips were set in a grim frown, so much like their father.

    "Go now" she commanded him gently, sadly. They were just reunited and now they would be apart again. Eri bowed his head to his sister. Before he rose, he pressed his lips to her hand. He looked down at her as he rose, but spoke to Alain.

    "I am counting on you to keep her safe, Master Alain" the Prince said. The Master of Taroc would know of the conflict warring within his heart. His voice was softer next. "Please keep her safe for me."

    The Prince descended the stairs and turned to look at Alain, Olivia and Nalia.

    "Ganard. Merelin."

    The Prince's guards rose and bowed to the Princess before flanking the Prince. Eri opened the doors to leave the room and looked at Pasce once more. Something silent was exchanged between the siblings. He and his guards exited the room. The doors shut behind them.

    Nalia was still staring downward at her hands. They were palms up so she could look at their ivory beauty. They had force-fed Darmon Nightmares. She had filled him with the sick ichor. Or had they escape because the White Power had come to her? Her face had gone pale. She spoke to Alain and Olivia both in a voice that was haunted by what had been done.

    "It is my fault. Despite how hard I tried..." Nalia looked up from her hands to Alain and Olivia.

    "I have to fix this." Her voice was desperation on the verge of collapse. She had given Darmon hat he wanted and now he was at Capios's doorstep. She was quite literally as far from Capios as she could be within the boundaries of Rekōdo. "I have to go to Capios."
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 10-16-2017 at 03:49 PM.

  7. #7
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Commander Colina Weir



    Southern Rekōdo in the Shamaa Province: Siochana... The Capital City


    Travel from Eloruh to Siochana required two changes of steeds and the use of a local trappers port-a-door. It was a tough but necessary journey. Made all the more difficult by the need to get to Siochana in great haste.

    Colina was needed to help defend a Taroc seer as he aided the local Shamaa mystics in warding a point on the Shamaa/Astral border where a group of nomadic raiders have been preying on several trade routes. Normally, as a Commander in Taroc's military, Colina could send someone under her command to perform the task, but her ranks have been thinned. The tragedy in Astral decimated the troops under her command. The following occupation and need to secure Taroc borders brought about most of her soldiers being reassigned to other locations.

    Within no time at all Colina has gone from a strategic liaison between Taroc and Shamaa, to a strategic liaison that also has to pull double-duty troubleshooting any and all problems within her assigned area. Considering her assigned area is essentially a whole province, Colina has not had much down time.

    Tired. Sore from the rides. And her ears ringing from a port-a-door that is in desperate need of maintenance. This is how Colina enteres the gathering of warriors, tribal leaders, spirit animals, and province advisors. She hasn't even had a chance to change out of her field armor. The armor is plates of enchanted metal, elemental resistant cloth and leather, and the fur of a beast she helped to slay while participating in a hunt with Shamaa warriors in the forests to the east of this capital city.

    Colina makes her necessary greetings to the various warriors and representatives. She has been trained to be visible, to assure her southern brothers and sisters that Taroc is always present and willing to lend aid. It's why she's here. Her oak-colored eyes lock onto the gaze of everyone she meets. She has a strong stare, one that assures everyone that her focus is on them and their corner of the universe.

    Once the greetings are done, she finds a place to sit beside the great fire, and takes out her Guild badge. The small metal token, a symbol of her status in the Taroc Guild, grants her access to the mystical lines of communications running through the Taroc military and government. She lets the most recent intelligence reports and announcements wash over her thoughts for a few minutes before eventually Branwen and a top hatted old woman arrive.

    Colina pockets her badge and rises out of respect for the arrival of the acting Guild Mistress. She was going to sit back down, but news of Darmon's return halts her. Memories of burning fields and screaming people and animals chills her. It's her earliest childhood memory. A recollection given to her and so many others by Darmon and his invasion of Taroc during the Great War.

    The armored woman takes in a deep breath. Alain will be on top of the Darmon situation. Colina must focus on helping Shamaa. She must remain the line of communication between the two allied provinces.

    She observes the dialogue between Branwen and her advisors. Colina seeks out the eyes of these leaders of Shamaa, trying to read all that their gaze can tell her. She was born with the gift of oculomancy, an ability to divine information from the eyes of others. The colors, patterns, and behavior of eyes are a language to Colina. A brief or distant look she can gather small tidbits or surface notions. A deeper study is required to truly delve into the nature and life of another.

    Here she can see that those gathered around her are truly the noblest and wisest Shamaa has to offer. All except for this old woman with closed eyes, an unusual accent that Colina can't place, and a habit of drawing in the dirt. This old woman in the well-worn top hat seems to speak in riddles, and without eyes to assess, Colina can't tell if they're riddles with purpose or genuine ramblings.

    Colina decides to give this old woman the benefit of the doubt, for now. Branwen seems to welcome her wandering words, or at least tolerates them while appearing to welcome them.

    The Taroc soldier steps forward, and tries to offer her own piece to the puzzle that the Second of Shamaa seeks to solve.


    "I can't say I have any special insight to offer. I do know that recent reports from Taroc mystics have shown that the ambush in Astral may have created a blind spot for my people. A massive loss of Taroc life can cause large waves in the magical medium we work in. It's easier to see the horizon in calm seas, but when the waves get this big we can't see past our own bow. It will take time to get past this event. When we do we'll get a clearer look at what's going on."

    Realizing she has only contributed an excuse for her people's lack of foreknowledge, Colina straightens herself and continues, "Despite that, the people of Taroc stand ready to face whatever the future brings. And as always we will face that future by the side of the Shamaa people. We offer our wisdom, out swords, and our courage."

  8. #8
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Qwaring


    The Province of Taroc... On the coast of the Ocean of Liaradon...

    "Your youngest?" Xalidus asks. He struggles a moment. So many memories. "Cao? Yes, of course."

    With a recollection of Cao comes images of others. Xalidus sorts through what his mind shows him.

    "I am sorry you have lost the others," Xalidus whispers, sounding so very human. Lost, fragile, compassionate. The moment of humanity soon slips away, and the air of confident godhood is dragged back into place. "I know you will learn from this iteration of creation, and will eliminate these flaws from the next. Stay strong and someday all will be perfect."

    When Sil asks about his crime and imprisonment, Xalidus digs into the mind of one of his parts. It is as he roots through memories that are and are not quite his own that he slowly replies to Sil, "Very much like myself, this version of me was abducted as a child. He- We escaped but found myself exiled from our home universe.

    "I grew up hopping from one universe to another. Searching the multiverse for home. Secundae need to be attuned to the cosmos around them before they can ascend to a First. It is how we find our place in the universe, and then earn our title. However, we grew up in other universes, with different physical properties. Our power and bodies adapted in ways that do not translate well in this universe.

    "When he arrived in his home universe, his body would take a great deal of time to readjust to this cosmos. Ascension would take ages. I was lucky enough to find safe harbor in the old universe. Places where I could study the problem and fix it. This version of me was not so lucky. He became desperate and sought out a source of power. Energy he could harvest and try to jump-start his ascension. He believed this world was just such a power source."

    He falls silent as he thinks of Elysia. It's difficult to isolate the correct version of the world in his conjoined memories.

    "He could not reach Elysia. There was something in the way. I don't know if it's still there. Its been so long.

    "He came to this world, and made contact with the inhabitants. He needed time to figure out the best way to steal the magic of this world, so he made the leaders of the time believe he was a benevolent visitor. Eventually, he thought he knew how to harvest the magic, and revealed his true nature and intentions. The province leaders fought against him. Eventually, the leader of Taroc tricked this version of me, and lured him into a trap. The Guild Masters did not believe they had the power to destroy me, so they locked me away in this place."

  9. #9
    Count / Countess Tigers is offline Tigers's Avatar
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    KALI

    In another time, another place Kali would have been thrilled about having a discussion with Dyani about just how love could be selfish. A good debate was about as exciting as a good spar with the right partner and she and Dyani had done plenty of that in their time together. With the recent fluctuations of her pheromones, and had Dyani been so inclined, such a debate could easily have turned into a spar of a different nature.

    And though Dyani was on Kali’s mind after the revelation of recent truths, it had swept them all up into a whirlwind of doubt and turbulent emotions. Kali’s main focus needed to be in the room with the women that still remained. She could have felt it through the little dragonling but she understood the need for privacy when one needed space to work through their feelings. As for the little dragonling, she curled up and was content to watch the other creatures roam around the grounds, her tongue of fire flickering out to taste the anticipation in the air.

    Strange creatures, these ones of flesh in blood, even the furry ones. Their aura’s danced before her eyes like flames in a fire, shifting and changing according to mood. Dyani’s was always bright, no matter what the female was going through. The dragonling liked this female, intense in all things, much like Kali and the flaming reptile found a comfort in it. So she would rest here until either Dyani finally conceded in letting her move closer, sent her away or Kali called for her return. Her flaming white eyes finally rested back on Dyani in her ever vigilant watch.

    In the meantime, Kali responded to her remaining sisters, the edge of danger ever pressing upon her senses and the urgency to resolve this as best they could and focus on defenses. Kali’s skin rippled with the laughter from the shadows, perhaps being a child of such shadows it did not drive her insane, but she has seen what it did to others. And the half of Kali’s nature, the part of her that lived and thrived in the dark fought the changes she felt just underneath the surface of her flesh.


    “Love, it is love.” She answered Laelis.

    Merriam had not been taking any of this news well, none of them had. It was like a line was drawn into the sand and everyone was taking sides according to their feelings. One could not help the way they felt, but they could help the way they responded. That was the difference between feeling and emotions. Feelings where obviously how one felt, the emotions were how you responded to those feelings. It was a lesson that Branwen had first tried to get through her thick head, what Nalia had tried to convey in her own way, and what her mother had spoken to her about on this journey to save the Princess.

    “No one can help the way they feel about any of this.” Kali replied.

    “Had Nalia been able to hide it from all of us, events still would have unfolded and we would be blind to what is about to take place. The shadows in here grow colder and each passing moment puts us in danger. Sisters of the dark arts, surly you feel it too?”

    Kali regarded all of her sisters again, if it was not for the impending danger they were in, she would have let them have their rights to express their feelings in this manner, in this forum. It is not the first time that she had been involved in discussions with her sisters in this type of setting; but it was the first time
    that Nalia was not present. It was the first time she actually felt a true division that would take time to mend, if it could be mended at all. But for all things Kali was, she was not one that easily gave up hope. And when the sisters started to come together, Kali smiled.


    “I promise you, when things have settled; you will all have your say. I swear to you on my mother’s name that I will take full responsibility for my actions and do everything to protect all of you and Enchantry. My priorities at this moment is the current danger and it is my duty to protect Enchantry and the women that live here, that is where my focus must be. Have faith in the rulers of Rekōdo, I have heard good things about them and I have seen it with my own eyes. I have no doubt they will be fair and just.”


    At that moment in the court yard, just as the howling of the wolves filled the air, the little dragonling double in size and sizzled white hot, behind Dyani. When the woman spoke, her words were instantaneously received by Kali, who at the same moment felt the crushing pain from fighting her body to instantly transform. Discussion was over, darkness had arrived.

    Kali stepped back from her sisters, no longer able to keep her bones from shifting and the change from occurring. Draconic type wings and horns erupted from her head and back, as Kali’s hands suddenly sported talon like claws at the end of her nails. She staggered slightly from the force of the change before a strange set of golden orbs peered at her sisters. Her body was covered in the most vulnerable places by beautiful black and green scales, the colors of Enchantry, and at the tips of her horns, sharpened to a fine point, capped with emerald.


    Her wings unfurled as she spoke.

    “Take no chances, sound the alarm. Utilize whatever totems, enchantments, glyph's or spells you can to combat the darkness. Stay away from any of the shadows unless accompanied by myself. Do not separate yourselves from each other, stay in groups, but do not make yourselves large targets. We are stronger in numbers than as individuals.”

    Kali took to the air and turned one last time. Two more flaming dragons burst forth from Kali’s palms and settled on the ground next to her sisters.



    “Shalla, Evalyn, stay with each other, do not separate from your sisters.”


    Her golden eyes lingered for only a brief moment on each sister, unspoken feelings bathing them each as her eyes passed over them and falling lastly on Fateema.

    “They will obey any commands you give them. As long as I still draw breath, they will be by your side to protect and serve in whatever capacity you need them in. Protect each other; be as a shield to one another.”

    With those final words, Kali flew toward the door, pulling them open with the use of a spell and flew out to the court yard to Dyani’s side. The same feelings would bathe over her fellow warrior, perhaps they would be given a chance to share them after this was all said and done. To settle this as the two of them
    needed, as warriors, and Kali hoped as friends and allies. Until then, there did not need to be words on what they were about to do. They would stand as sister’s in arms to protect their guild, to protect their sisters, to protect Rekōdo, and to protect each other. It was all conveyed in a single glance.
    Peace is a lie
    There is only passion
    Through passion I gain strength
    Through strength I gain power
    Through power I gain victory
    Through victory my chains are broken
    The Force shall set me free

  10. #10
    ((Continued from here.))


    Between Windf'rte and Capios... Waiting


    Darmon_Returned.jpg

    Darmon, The Returned


    He was the only thing glowing in the night sky. There were no stars. There were no moons. All was darkness and all was cold. He hovered there, high above the waves and surf that crashed down on craggy beaches. It was snowing. He'd forgotten what snow felt like. He knew it was cold. He knew it killed if there was too much. He remembered snow in the mountains. He remembered cold before it snowed, how the air was chilled and the winds of the north biting.

    There was wind, cold wind, by a lakeshore in the Unsettled Lands. He'd asked a beautiful, raven-curled woman to get a book at the bottom of the lake.

    Uncaring eyes stared down at the island in the distance. They could see him. He knew they would see him. It was easy to spot something you knew was coming. He floated there and watched the white city working beneath the protection of an emerald dome. His acquaintances. They were feasting in the city behind him. It had been his city once, one of many which he ruled. His people were screaming. Their worst fears were laid bare before them and they were destroyed in their fear. Food for the Nightmare fodder. She had starved them severely. They needed to be replenished before The Hunt could commence.

    His unnatural senses picked up the sound of bodies as they plummeted through the air. They smelled of their fate before they hit the ground. Their Spirits burst upward from them and dissipated to the Realm that had entrapped him. His people. Nothing would be wasted.

    No.

    They were not his people anymore.

    He was here for one purpose.

    ~... Na... li... a...~

    His voice was a rasping, echoing whisper, a scratching and awful sound come from a throat that had been burnt by Nightmare ichor. She fed it to him. It was delicious. His voice, the eerie, haunting echo of it, whispered throughout the island. Everyone would hear it. Every Enchantress. Every Novice. Children would hear it. It seemed to come from everywhere. Every corner. Every shadow. It had no source, but they would see him. A violet beacon floating between sea and sky.

    He exhaled sharply. A sort of twisted half-laugh.

    He could feel it, their panic. But he could not feel her.

    They felt it too. The fear. The chaos beginning to unfurl. The sweet, beautiful sound of hearts thumping in panic. They began to come to him. They had their fill of Windf'rte. They came to him now and formed an impenetrable circle around Capios. A mighty army of dark, hellish things. They did not move. Nothing moved except his cloak, on winds that were not of this world, and the snow. They just floated there.

    Waiting.

    They wanted what he wanted.

    What they wanted was not here.

    Not yet.

    She would come to him.

    And if not... He would let his acquaintances feed on everyone and everything here until she was found.

    They could do it.

    They already had once, looking for her. They had told him about it as they filled him. As they fled her white light. As she fed them to him.

    Some place like this. Another universe. Another time. He did not know how little he knew. They had destroyed everything. They had showed him picture. They'd shown her fighting, Alain by her side. On a hill surrounded. Hopeless. A place called Ardea. It was this Nalia's turn. Her time had come.

    Black eyes, dark as pitch and tar stared with glowing, violet irises down at the green dome. He stared at all of them, singularly and together. He felt the fear rising. They felt the fear rising and hissed and cackled in something that might be called gentleness. Eagerness.

    An oppressive feeling weighed down on the island. A feeling of dread. Of hopelessness at the sight of the Nightmare Hoard. Of the almost-man that lead them.

    They waited.

    She would come to them.

    Just as she had in so many other universes. So many other times.

    She would come.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 10-16-2017 at 07:33 PM.

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