Day 1 - Midday
Seawall
Feeling slighted by the fact that they ignored her efforts to help, Meyath looked for someone who didn't look too busy to talk to her, but the best she could find was a nearby worker who appeared to be taking a brief break for water. She approached him saying:
"Excuse me, where is this place?"
"This is Seawall, and if people are acting gruff it's because last night was a bad one. We stand as the first defense against pirates. Without us, Aetharbor would suffer. Sometimes though, like right now, we pay dearly for their security, and it puts the entire town in a mood. By the way, I'm Katro."
"Thanks, I ... I actualy did no tknow where I was coming, but now that I know ... what can I do to help?" Tears are welling up in Meyath's eyes, she imagines what happened back home "Scum like that don't deserve to live!"
Seeing the tears in her eyes, he looked on the verge of showing her compassion and helping find her a place in the town, when he looked at the destruction around them. His eyes hardened. He saw her form as weak, her tears as more weakness, and he knew the weak in this town broke quickly.
"Well now that you know what this is like, perhaps it's time you find a different piece of land to call home. Folk like us toil here so folk like you can be safe in Aetharbor. That's the only way this can work."
Walking away from her, he got to work clearing away rubble from the destruction. She called after him:
"NO! I have run enough, you just brought up a painful memory"
Tears welling in her eyes, she sat disconsolate on the ground, the flow of workmen continuing around her. She found resolve in her violent past however, and stood up, wiping the tears from her eyes, and strode off, past the ruined facades of the buildings into the town proper. There she saw a cluster of houses, along with what appeared to be a very busy medical building, with all manner of wounded slowly making their way in and out. At a distance down a side street she could see a number of shops.
Aetharbor
Feeling like he had come to the right place TsuJochi decided that his first course of action would be to try to make it so he could better understand the intentions of those he was interacting with. Sitting on the boardwalk, with his back leaned up against a cluster of crates, he started trying to commune with Cadus, in the hopes of channeling enough energy to lay an enchantment on himself. After pursuing this goal for a number of minutes, and earning no small number of strange looks, he resigned himself to the fact that today he simply was not making any connection with his ancestors. Ancestral magic could be finicky like that, so without a further thought on the subject, he set off to try and find a way to go up the Shimmering River towards Vourun.
Noticing that the northern section of the port curved into the mouth of the great river, he set off towards that end of the boardwalk, and found himself standing in front of a vessel that was certainly much too small to go out on the open sea. As he considered whether or not this would take him where he needed to go, he was approached by what seemed to be the ships burly captain.
Kassen felt out of place at first, but then had a moment of inspiration. Religious leaders offered guidance, that fact seemed like it must be universal. All he needed to do was find a temple of some sort. But all he saw around him were dilapidated buildings. He had no sense of direction, no sense of place, surrounded by all these structures. Open desert was far easier for him to navigate. He would need help to even find those who would help him. Looking around the nearest person that Kassen could find was a female human dressed in clothes that were torn and worn down to rags.
Belamn nilba... Protection, he thought to himself as he approached her, stumbling over his words:
"Please. Can I hall-ve secrets?" he started slowly. She gave him and incredibly odd look. No, that wasn't right.
"No. Can have... Information? Where is the God-place?"Watching him struggle with his words, she felt sympathy for a person who struggled through life as much as she did.
"What ou ant is a temple. Aats to the north o ere. I'm Aimee, to those aat care." He gave her a confused look as he tried to sort out what she had said. It sounded so different from the others. But with a bit of gesturing on her part, he got her meaning. Heading north, across a large bridge over the Shimmering River, he was just on the point of giving up when he came to a large building with a door painted with a slanted, strange kind of tree painted in teal. The tree had many small roots, all visible, and looked rather short.
Iseaya
Glancing at the compound in front of her, Sofia decided that the clear action to take was to equip herself. Nobody has ever heard of an unarmed hero after all. Well, except for Gracko the Pugilist. But he was a Korsha. There was no way she could match his strength. What she needed to do was take advantage of her finesse. And that meant weaponry.
Stepping lightly through the streets while musing took her further than she would have thought. Coming out of her thoughts, she was on the other side of town. Briefly panicking, she glanced around quickly to try to get her bearing. Just as she was cursing under her breath about the difficulties of navigating this place compared to the forest, a sign reading Galens Small Arms, with a crude drawing of a rapier and bow on it. Her pride and confidence suddenly came rushing back. She told herself that this was simply more confirmation that it was her destiny to be great. Sofia strode confidently through the door, into a shop as small as the arms it sells, but full of treasures to Sofias eyes. Behind a counter towards the back of the store was an old man, carefully watching his only customer at the moment. Sending a quick smile his way, she began perusing the tables of the store.
She approached each of the five tables in series. The first one she approached had bolas of various design. Some were fairly typical, others had various blades and spikes sticking out of them. There was even one odd set on which the balls seemed to repel each other, until she touched one, at which point they snapped together.
The second table was covered in sets of daggers of various metals and shapes. One remarkable pair looked like they were made of waves of glass, and it looked as though those waves were rippling as she looked at the dagger. Feeling mildly disconcerted by this objects odd behavior, she moved on.
The third table had rapiers. Most seemed to be very similar to the daggers, and she found another odd rippling one. She also found one made of a black metal with red pulsating streaks in it.
Moving on she found a table with small recurve bows, along with arrows stored nearby. One of these bows seemed to actually be a branch that had shaped itself into a bow. Leaves still grew from, and its bark was still present.
The final table had a small selection of blowguns with darts. Not nearly as ornate as the other weapons, most of the blowguns had the same shape. She did notice that the variety of darts was substantial though. There was nothing in this store related to the Farsoul, but the selection in front of her was still breathtaking.
Spirarbor
Nico simply couldn't believe his luck. He had only had the vaguest idea that this port was an intellectual shelter, but the activity in front of him was absolutely undeniable evidence that this place was an academic's heaven. Trying to hide his unbridled excitement, he walks up to the nearest group. But therein lies the problem with unbridled excitement, it can't be hidden. Attempting to walk up as though nothing was happening, his zeal for an intellectual community shone through. To make matters worse, instead of merely interrupting one discussion and learning his lesson, his enthusiasm carried him to every single group in the small clearing, making him solely responsible for the dispersal of these men of discussion.
After their leaving, Nico found himself staring up at the lighthouse, bemoaning his childish actions. He felt certain that he had aggravated those learned men beyond belief, that they would never share a secret with him out of pure disdain. But through those musings, a rational voice bubbled up into his mind. He felt his emotions briefly subside, and he realized that it wasn't all quite as bad as it seemed. Men of this sort were not often the kind to hold extended grudges, after all. And what's more, he had heard the ends to various conversations. Besides, Nico still was fairly confident he was right about that last one...
"... have no way of identifying the medium, arguing about the energy is inconsequential."
"An identification of the energy would let us..."
Nico interrupts with offers to help, of dubious merit
"... form and function must be intertwined, the presence of multiple colors implies a prism of some sort."
"But you assume the blast is the function, when clearly the light given off at night was the source of the design."
"Yes well, whether the blast is central or auxiliary to the purpose is beyond the scope of this discussion, the polychromatic nature of the blast is one of the few observable aspects..."
At this point Nico started asking questions which seemed to stray from the topic, leaving the intellectuals bored.
"I propose that it is not the presence of the sun, but the absence of the moon which triggers the blast. After all, is it not powered at night, in the sun's absence and moon's presence?"
At this point Nico chimed in, "But sir, the moon does not leave as the sun arrives, their presences are not mutually exclusive. The light of the sun merely drowns out the light of the moon. Sometimes the moon can be seen well into the day."
At this point the leader of this discussion grumbled and walked off.
...Still, Nico knew he had damaged their perception of him already.
Character Sheets
Gender: Female
Race: Swamp Serpen
Stats:
Strength 8
Agility 12
Dexterity 9
Intelligence 10
Intuition 10
Willpower 10
Charisma 10
Resilience 12
Abilities:
Reptilian Regeneration - wounds heal quickly
Unbridled passion will have an effect as soon as I think of one
Magic:
Will of the Heart - Practitioners of this craft are intensely passionate. It uses meditation as a focus. Shapeshifting and air are what it is known for. It can best be learned through observation and experience.
Equipment: Cloth Pants, Cloth Shirt, Sandals
Inventory: Money pouch with 100 copper coins
Description: Meyath is approximately two meters tall, but has never actually gotten herself measured with a relatively modest bosom, her scales are a mottled black and blue colour, somewhat of a mutation in her family, who normally have black and dark green scales. Her tail is somewhat short for her size, but her lithe (even for serpens) makes up for the difference in agility. Her hands and feet are webbed, a normal trait for her family, who make a habit of hunting in the deeper parts of the swamp they hail from.
Starting Port: Seawall
Background: Meyath grew up in a tight-knit extended family in the heart of the great swamp (or other appropriate name), they lived mostly on hunted animals, occasionally leaving the swamp to trade flora and fauna found in the swamp for more exotic goods. Meyath enjoyed these trips thoroughly, and hoped to become the family's main liaison to the world outside the swamp. Not that she did not love her native habitat, always happy to get home after a trip she just enjoyed seeing new faces. Unfortunately however, on one such trading journey a group of bandits (race unknown, she was not there) had fled into the swamp to evade pursuit. They had, by random happenstance found the Deepfen dwellings, and proceeded to slaughter them after being offered hospitality by the friendly serpens. Meyath could not bear to stay after that, her brother, with whom she had a strong bond had been among the family staying at home. So she said her farewells to her family, and left the swamp, taking her wherever her feet took her, they eventually ended up with her on a ship bound for seawall; perhaps there she will be able to start again.
Trinket: Small piece of petrified wood, a gift from her brother
Gender : Male
Race : Wolfkin
Stats:
Strength 6
Agility 12
Dexterity 13
Intelligence 10
Intuition 10
Willpower 10
Charisma 10
Resilience 10
Abilities:
Clan Member - Interaction modifiers with other Wolfkin
Insomniac Mage If magic is used after noon, 33% chance to fail to be rested after sleep
Magic:
Cadus Blessings - Enhancement spells, empathy and life are this system of magic's main uses. Practitioners suffer from insomnia. It uses ancestors to channel power.
Equipment: Cloth Pants
Inventory: Money pouch with 100 copper coins
Description : TsuJochi is relatively small even for his own kind and has pale blue fur that looks almost black in moonlight and pale yellow eyes. He's very well muscled for his kind and has a large collections of scars covering his body several of which are in positions that should have been mortal wounds such as a sword wound to his heart and several slashes across his throat. Mentally TsuJochi is extremely resilient surviving these wounds largely through a stubborn refusal to admit defeat, a trait shared by his entire clan. Harvey also has a unique symbol carved into his chest depicting his clan. Uniquely amongst his clan he also has a birth mark on his head in the shape of crossed claws.
The Symbol shows a fleet of ships burning at anchor with wolves tearing into the pirate crews with nothing but tooth and claw.
Clan : The Bloody Forsaken are a clan of somewhat unique Wolfkin, the clans founders were captured by pirates along with those of other clans to be taken as slaves. The founding father of the clan was a man named TsuJochi and while in his cage he prayed for salvation to any god who would listen for himself and his people. After praying while he slept he had a vision and when he woke up his own and the fur of the other wolves on board the ship had all turned the same pale blue and they all shared the same pale yellow eyes, Tsujochi also had a scar on his head in the shape of crossed claws that had not been there before.
Without understanding how it had happened he forced his cage open before freeing his kin and then with a ferocity never seen before or since they fell on the massed pirates on board the ships and shore with nothing but tooth and claw butchering them to the last man in honor of the god Cadus who had freed them and changed them.
Since that day and the founding of the clan in blood every member of it has been a devout believer in Cadus and at the age of 18 every member of the clan has the symbol of a fleet of burning ships and a pirate force being slaughtered by wolf kin carved into his or her chest in his honor.
Members of this clan have a fanatical loyalty to Cadus and believe that to accept death is the ultimate sin and so will fight beyond the limits of insanity in his name earning a reputation over the generations as an almost unwolven clan for there sheer ferocity and the rumors of members of the clan regularly surviving mortal wounds through the blessings of there god. In the clan a prophecy persists that one day Tsujochi will be reborn when the time for his clan to rise up and annihilate the pirates comes though outside of the clan it is treated as nothing more then an idiotic fantasy as is the religion and existence of Cadus himself.
Starting port : Aetharbor
Background : Tsujochi lived a difficult life from birth because of the mark on his head and the clans belief that he had been born to lead his people, because of this he was pushed hard to develop by his people and at the age of 13, far younger then is natural in his clan he had the symbol of his clan carved into his chest and was then thrown out and told not to return until he was ready to lead.
Upon his return to his clan he would have to prove to them that he was capable of leading them into war.
Because of this he set out for the Seawall island and spent the next 7 years of his life moving from camp to camp learning and aiding them in battle against the pirates, in this time he developed a reputation as a warrior to be feared killing more pirates at 13 then many men had at 20 and surviving many wounds in the process that should have left him dead. Because of this TsuJochi came to believe that he was indeed the founder reborn and that Cadus had given his blessing.
Tried and tested Tsujochi is now heading back to his clan to take leadership and begin the holy cleansing to remove all pirates from existence.
Trinket : -
Gender: Female
Race: Aethen
Stats:
Strength 7
Agility 13
Dexterity 10
Intelligence 10
Intuition 13
Willpower 12
Charisma 10
Resilience 6
Abilities:
Bond with the Wild - +1 to animal interactions
Magic:
Magic of the Farsoul - This approach to magic is learned by studying tomes and scrolls. Necromancy, farseeing and compulsion are considered its central attributes. It uses movement.
Equipment: Cloth Shirt, Cloth Pants, Sandals
Inventory: Money pouch with 100 copper coins
Description: A buxom and (relatively!) tall Aethen, Sofia has hazel colored hair, which tends not to fly about wildly, yet isn't well groomed either, and goes down to just under her shoulderblades. Her somewhat narrow eyes are brown colored, and her skin is a tan color. Sofia's rather calm, not letting all but the worst of things deter her from taking her time and thinking things through. However, this is partially a matter of not letting others get to her- Sofia possesses no small amount of pride, is aware of it, and merely does not care. She has a taste for bitter leaves.
Starting Port: Iseaya
Background: Sofia had rather not wanted to live in ignominy- the Aethen, living out an annoyingly secluded life in the forest on the island Iseaya's on, wanted to make a name, a reputation for herself, to stand out, after finding a small relic of a hero famous among the Aethen. She wanted to be like that hero, to be celebrated for doing good. But she thought she really couldn't do so in this forest. So clutching that small relic (a burnt and wrecked small piece of an Aethen shield), she made her way to the only real major port on that island slowly but surely She had places to go, and things to do. A life to live.
Trinket: Aethen Shield-Piece: A piece of a shield of a famous (within her population group) Aethen warrior, this small, pocket-fitting piece of metal is highly burnt and highly twisted- a pattern of bronze and bright red being unrecognizable but for the color.
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Stats:
Strength 9
Agility 9
Dexterity 9
Intelligence 12
Intuition 13
Willpower 10
Charisma 13
Resilience 7
Abilities:
Social Climber - Interaction Modifiers from social status and groups
Magic:
The Natural Academy - Practitioners of this approach to magic strive towards a kind of enlightenment. Animals and growth are its main uses. It uses chants as a focus.
Equipment: Cloth Shirt, Cloth Pants, Sandals
Inventory: Money pouch with 100 copper coins
Description: A young man with a subtle tan to his skin, which highlights the occasional scars strewn across his arms. His hair is a shade of dark brown, cascading down to his shoulders, on the off chance that he doesn't have it tied back in a short ponytail. Along his sharp, angular jawline is a thin goatee. His eyes are a faded shade of green which show a slight feeling of weariness.
Evidence of the physically demanding nature of his past is the lightly muscled, but sleek build of his body.
Starting Port: Spirarbor
Background: From the earliest moments Nico can recall of his life, he'd always been near to the sea. Whether it be the chance he'd gotten as a child to go out with his father on sightseeing trips on his vessel - a simple fishing boat, barely large enough for a single man, but kept in stately condition - or moving cargo for the merchants at the docks, something that seemed to take up much more of his life than he was truly comfortable with. At any rate, he'd grown up with an appreciation of the sea seemingly forced upon him by circumstance.
His family was relatively small, made up of his parents and sister, but it seemed as though there was rarely enough money, even at the best of times. Left with little else to do once he'd gone through his rudimentary education, he worked where he was able once he came of working age, in an attempt to earn his keep. He gained few friends, focusing on work and, eventually, his studies. For the majority of his life, he lived a simple existence, one revolving mainly around working, sleeping & eating. This was satisfying for a while, but of course, even the most hard-working person can hardly call that an existence - or, at least, not one worth living, some might say - and as such, he soon made his way to other, more interesting pursuits.
Soon after sneaking a few assorted texts from a cargo shipment, he worked at learning of the world beyond the coasts he knew like the back of his hand. And, well, his curiosity grew, leading him to steal more books from ships that'd come by the area. Which got him into quite a bit of trouble with the local law-enforcement before long. Most accusations, he managed to deflect away with a bit of quick talking, but soon the evidence piled up. As one might imagine, he decided to get right out of there before he found himself in prison, so he gathered up what money he'd saved, said his goodbyes to his family and set out on a ship headed for the Aethellian Coast, unfortunately forced to leave his variety of texts behind. Had to travel light, after all. But he didn't find himself particularly down about this, since he was free to go on to make his own way in the world.
Trinket: A small wooden albatross, finely carved from a chunk of driftwood by his father long ago.
Gender: Male
Race: Desert Serpen
Stats:
Strength 8
Agility 12
Dexterity 9
Intelligence 10
Intuition 10
Willpower 10
Charisma 10
Resilience 12
Abilities:
Reptilian Regeneration - wounds heal quickly
Magic:
-None-
Equipment: Cloth Pants, Cloth Shirt, Sandals
Inventory: Money pouch with 100 copper coins
Description: Short for a Serpen, but especially sneaky, Kassen has dark brown and green scales with small, sharp horns poking out form his brow. His claws are finely manicured, and the quills sticking out of his tail are always sharpened. His brown eyes betray his awkwardness around others (especially foreigners), while his rigid posture is telling of a tumultuous past. His smiles are slow to come and quick to fade, but are always genuine. His thick accent reveals him for what he is: a stranger in a foreign land.
Starting Port: Aetharbor
Background: Kassen always assumed that he'd live his whole life in the deserts, fighting other Serpens and scratching by. It is a life he grew accustomed to, and accepted. He never asked for any more than that, never wanted more. But his clan shaman saw something else in the entrails of slain vermin. She told him that he was meant to live 'Where kinds and kinds meet, and speak one tongue. To do what they do, and say what they say.' Kassen was only as religious as he needed to be, and was skeptical of these portents. So, he went on a pilgrimage to discover what he should do. Many of his kin lauded him for his spirituality, but Kassen simply responded, 'It is what is expected.' So, with little enthusiasm, and less direction, Kassen set off for his clan's holy place.
After many days of travelling alone in the desert, Kassen arrived at the Marker that Sets Us Apart, a large stone jutting from the sands. Without a clue of what to do, Kassen used his claws to scratch upon its surface, then he sat upon it, waited in its shadow, attempted to speak with it, and every manner of activity one can have with a boulder. He had always led a simple life, with simple desires, and given simple rewards. The concept of spirituality was elusive and arcane to him. So, instead of trying to force an insight, he sat down and waited for one, and waited some more.
Eventually night was upon him, and he was no closer to a vision. Or so he thought. Instead of seeking shelter, he took a risk and slept out in the open. Soon, though, he was awaken by a great sound. He stood up, dagger drawn, and looked around to find a great cataclysm. The stars were dying. Stars streaked across the sky in great number. Kassen dropped his dagger and fled, fearing the worst. Eventually he came upon a burrow of some predator. Under the circumstances, Kassen thought it best to risk encountering a sandlion rather than risk being crushed by the sky.
He crawled into the burrow and waited out the storm. That night, he dreamed about foreign creatures, large oases, great wooden structures upon the water, and a tree that spoke. When he awoke, he left the burrow to find the world had not ended. But now he had his answer. Or rather, he had many questions that needed answers. And the only place he would get them is in the land beyond the mountains.
Trinket: A dried head of a desert rat. A totem of protection, given to him by his clan's shaman.
Maps
Sofia strode through the town. Step one, the Aethen thought, was to equip herself. And as such, she went around looking for a weapons shop, or if she was lucky maybe a scroll of the farsoul.
(5)
Nico looks from the lighthouse to the others at the dock, a barely hidden smile on his face.
Nonchalantly, he walked over to the group, silently listening to anything the people there say.
(1)
TsuJochi looked around for a moment then smiled to himself and murmured a prayer to his god.
Place a permanent enchant on myself that allows me to feel what people around me are feeling if I focus on them. Once done head for a dock where I can take a ship over to Vourun.
(2)
Silcugar, I assumed for now that after you got your information, you were done with the conversation. If I'm wrong, just tell me and I'll go back and edit this.
Author
Topic: [IC Thread] Kurchil's Children - Day 2: A Rose-Gold Sky (Read 18851 times)