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Topics - Whim

#1
Serendipity Riverlands / Country Life (LostSoul)
March 06, 2022, 04:59:55 PM
@LostSoul

Benlend was a tiny village nestled deep in the forested hills of Serendipity's southern border. It was some miles off the high road to Arc, but with basilisks and spriggans in the wood it was a place to stay if you had no choice. It was mostly a spiderweb of dirt roads between farms and orchards with a hall, tavern, and some tradesfolk at the center of it all. Contrary to all the grumbling to his father, brothers, and sisters Cian did not hate Benlend. It really was beautiful. It was just the smell of cattle and horses he did not like. That and, in his head, he was always somewhere better: some old witch king's palace in the Wester Highlands, the library of Arca, or the glass oasis of Essryn.

The young male edged his way into The Merry Mule. Two old men sat by the fire stroking a shaggy dog and in the far corner three children sat on the floor, staring ponderously up at an antlered head on the wall. Cian approached the bar where a large, bald, fleshy man sat polishing a mug. "Young Master Cian."

Cian sighed in annoyance at the diminutive. "Hello Gunthyr. No, I wanted to know if anyone replied to my poster..." His eyes flicked across the room to a notice board. Mostly it was farmers looking to pawn off all carts, a local woman trying to find some work for her now 13-year-old son, and the services of a traveling midwife. Neatly written, at the center of it all, was Cian's notice.

"Cian ap Maerwen is hiring sellswords, treasure-hunters, and local guides. This is for an expedition to the Moonmaiden's Tor in search of artifacts of magical and historical significance. You may know it in the local vernacular as 'Frogspit Point.' My study of local literature, and third era elven cartography, has determined isle to very likely be connected to the local legend "Merry and the Moonmaiden." A small stipend will be paid, plus accolades, the favor of House Maerwen, and a dividend of treasure within."

"Nope. And I don't expect it. There ain't much in the way of sellswords here. And to be honest, lad, its too wordy. People in these parts don't read so much or so good." Gunthyr was an old guardsmen, had earned his keep, and was not one to scrape and bow before young aristocrats.

"Everyone here knows the old story of Merry and the Moonmaiden. He was farm-boy who tricked a witch into taking him into a magical well, as a human sacrifice, where he gained sorcerous powers to fight her. You'd think there'd be some interest in finding the place and making this town a little more than a place to water your mules!" Usually dour, Cian was suddenly animated as he began explaining how elves believed magical energy to flow along rivers and nearly always built atop ley line nexuses.

"Cian, Cian, we all know you love the story and how old Merry was your ancestor. Or so you've gone around saying since you were yay big." The big man smiled gently, flattened a palm at waist level. "There's a reason your pa never looked and his dad before him. Its just an old tower. Might be there's spirits and magic there. Might not. But some things are better left alone and we do okay here."

"Well I-" Cian huffed. Gunthyr had a way of giving un-asked for advice you could never refute. "I will take it as a no then?"
#2
Serendipity Riverlands / Hired Hands [Apex]
October 26, 2021, 01:28:31 PM
@Apex

Hylop was a tiny village nestled deep in the forests of Ravensway. It was some miles off the high road to Arc, but with basilisks and spriggans in the wood it was a place to stay if you had no choice. That was how Ollie Driftwind came to the village. It was mostly a spiderweb of dirt roads between farms and orchards with a hall, tavern, and some tradesfolk at the center of it all.  The young male edged his way into The Merry Mule. Two old men sat by the fire stroking a shaggy dog and in the far corner three children sat on the floor, staring ponderously up at an antlered head on the wall.

"May I have a room for the night?" Ollie approached the bar and set down his purse. He shook out two coppers, and earned a dubious look from the barmaid. It would be enough for the night but he was hoping to get his mule reshod, his armor repaired, and a new pair of boots. "Oh, um, I don't suppose you know of any work around here then? I can write very well if someone needs their letters done. Or a sign made!"

"The Widow Brie does that. And she doesn't ask for coin."

Ollie frowned. He rather liked doing reading and writing for people. It made him feel useful, and everyone was always so grateful for it. The young man let out a long sigh and corrected his stature, trying to look imposing. "What about a monster hunter? I... I can fight, you know!"

The barmaid gave him a cock-eyed look. He was mostly smallish and bespectacled, though his arms and frame were thickly muscled. "I never heard of any monsters lately. Maybe Lady Rhys might know, but the militia and wardens mind the wood. Heard Misses the Widow Brie could use help plowing her field and around the farm. Strong back like yours could manage."

"I don't usually do that sort of work." Ollie snorted in annoyance, he was good for things other than grunt work! But glancing down at his meager savings, there was little choice. "Well, alright, Where does she live?"
#3
Zantaric / Pageturner [platonicluv]
October 21, 2021, 08:27:11 PM
@platonicluv

QuoteLady Ashpire,
You wrote to me asking for two books. The first was The Many-Starred Veil Vol. I by Flemulus Grix, on how to find places thin between the physical and spiritual worlds. The second was Internal Alchemy by Ewan ap Rhys, on how to change your humors through diet.

I cannot deliver them to Darken Vei. If you want to see the books before buying you will need to come yourself or send someone. My shop is by Northgate. There is an eatery there, Sakaya's Slophouse, where you can find clean beds. Stay there and I will send word.

-Niamh

Niamh sat at her desk pouring over a ledger. She had more than enough coin squirreled away, though business had begun to slow in recent months. "Someone putting the squeeze on necromancers again, you think?" she mumbled to Jeb, a porcelain frog clad in an ascot and fishing rod. The shop had many cheap trinkets just like it, all a ruse to disguise the true nature of her business. As much as she hated to admit it Niamh had grown accustomed to them. To the frogs at least.

It had been a month since Niamh sent the letter to Lady Ashpire. She did not expect much to come of it. It actually did not sit well at all. A young girl, with no academic background, sniffing after random and unrelated magical books? Her usual sort of customer would kill, quite literally, for the chance to find and steal her merchandise. But Niamh couldn't pass this chance up. The girl was offering a small fortune for both books.

"Hey, kiddo!" she called out into the maze of shelves. Silence. Probably deliberately. She rose from her desk in a huff. Eventually she found her quarry, a small boy perched on the window-sill and juggling a ball. "Ewan!"

"Oh. Hi there!" he was transfixed by his attempts to toss the leather ball higher and catch it. There had not been actual magic to do in weeks, and the other chores to earn his keep were mostly done.

"Maybe don't bounce that indoors." She was met smirk of amusement.

"I need you to go to Sakaya's and see if that girl, Raisa, is here. Bring her back here if she checks out."

--

Sakaya's Slophouse sat amidst the maze-like shantytown that climbed Zantaric's western walls. The upper floors served as a cramped boarding house, while the bottom floor was an eatery. It was dark inside but for the glow of a firepit at the center, tended by an enormous woman with the face and tusks of a pig. The air was hot and heavy with the aroma of grease and garlic. Various grotty sorts sat hunched around tables finishing off their midday meals.  There were fisherman in reeking overalls, tribeless Adelans on break from farm labor, and whatever else passed for honest folk in Zantaric. A small Serenian boy with a shaved head, clad in sandals and a loin cloth, darted into the inn and ducked around a server, nearly tripping her in the process. It was hardly like adults stood aside for him! He pattered up to the bar.

"Hi! Uh-" he stared up at the boar-woman as she ladled gobs of heavy soup into a bowl, meeting his gaze with dark glowering eyes. "-So I've asked over and over and over and over, but, has a girl called Raisa Ashpire come to stay?"
#4
Zantaric / Tales Resold [Imperfect_M]
February 26, 2021, 10:47:50 PM
@Imperfect_M

The Looking Glass was in the Old City, the original fortress upon which Zantaric was built and expanded. It benefited from cobbled streets and the presence of enough Grimgut mercenaries to deter the riffraff. Zantaric had more than enough riffraff. The curiosity shop was tucked away in a side-street, sporting a dirt yard where an ox and cart were stabled. Painted on the front door was a mirror and eye.

--

Niamh sauntered through the maze of shelves, pausing to straighten a chess set carved from Kadir ivory, and wipe a smudge from an onyx mirror found in the petrified city of Urx. In her line of work having a pretty shop did not bring in bring in much money. She could turn a profit with a simple warehouse and the right connections. Of course past a point what good was money if you couldn't surround yourself with comfort and nice things? It pained the former witch-hunter to admit it, but she rather enjoyed being a provincial shopkeeper, at least some of the time.

Through her dusty windows she caught sight of a mule meandering toward her stable. Hopefully someone looking to do business. Most of her clientele were merchants looking for the odd status symbol, or that boy from the flower-shop buying every single frog with a fishing pole he could manage. It made for a pittance. She made her coin from selling magical texts from people who knew how to use them.
#5
Wester Highlands / The Contraband Caper [Quaggan]
December 30, 2020, 12:00:26 AM
@quaggan

The Office of the Steward was on the first level of Wyrdwood's Vault. It was meticulously tidy, bookshelves crammed with logs dating back centuries, furniture hopelessly out of date. To reach it you needed to navigatea confusing, musty hallway filled with packs of homunculi and students carryingout various janitorial punishments.

"The idol is clearly covered under Chapter Four section Three of the student handbook!" Steward Skrudge smiled, the gremlin's many skinfolds looking something like a melted candle. He was in charge of the imps who tended many of Wyrdwood's custodial tasks. "You will remember this refers to arcana of a primordial or shamanistic origin."

A boy with two heads stood across from the imp, arms crossed. On the left Liam gritted his teeth, trying not to let his anger show. It was a god-damn imp made from clay and feathers. How in the world did THIS get to make any decisions?! "Look. Its not harmful. The rule is for blood magic, trapped daemons, that sort of thing! And Kana's had it since he was a baby. Its all he has from home.."

"Really. All it does is let me get to horses. And they really don't got much to say..." Kana added. It was all that remained of his village. That life had not concerned him much, though he oft fiddled with the figurine. To lose it opened up old wounds.

The whole thing was Liam's fault and he felt terrible. Since they met Kana had owned a small wooden figurine depicting a horse. He encouraged his other half to bring it to their cryptozoology lecture to show off. Just a bit. Of course it got confiscated by an imp on the way back their room... and he had a few ideas about who tipped them off.

"I am sorry one thousand times over, young masters, but if exceptions were made the school would fall to pieces!" Skrudge bowed his head, though his tone was more cheerful than apologetic. Truly the imp did not feel beholden to the humans at all, but the charade of subservience was simply its nature. It was hard to hide his unbidden joy at so perfectly executing his orders and purpose. "I am afraid I have followed the rules to the letter. You will be able to retrieve your contraband on the day of your graduation and not two weeks after."

"This is ridiculous, I-" before Liam could finish their shared body had turned to go. "-hey stop!"

"Its fine, Liam, we'll get it back eventually. Really." Kana smiled sadly. As the second years turned to leave another figure appeared in the doorway of the musty office...
#6
Because of the new 'Le'raanian Characters' subforum, the most recent post in 'character registration and directory' always shows up as the art policy instead of the most recently made character (who would normally be relegated to one of the subforums).

Its not a huge deal, but needing to make one more click to see the most recently made character greatly reduces potential exposure new profiles might get. Its kind of nice when the first thing you see when you hit the forums is some shiny new character maybe waiting for a thread, especially for people who might be newer and a little approach-avoidant.
#7
Wester Highlands / Rites of Initiation [Sarang]
February 14, 2020, 10:18:02 PM
It was midnight. Another term had begun at Wyrdwood. The days were still warm with the dry heat of summer, but a chill was beginning to creep through the mountaintop castle by nightfall. Just about everyone was in fitful slumber, but for a lone bat flapping his way through the towers and parapets. He gripped a tiny letter, bound by string, between delicate little paws.

Where was the first-year tower again? Everything looked the same from up here! It was northernmost one, right? North! He fluttered in a circle, catching site of Wyrm Mountain in the distance. That was south. With another hearty beat of his wings the bat found his mark and perched on the window sill. Being a bat and flying were just terrible. There were so many better ways to do this, but in his head it sounded brilliant. But if he were smart he'd not be doing this at all. Bunkbeds. Snoring. Mothballs, probably from those itchy quilts the first years got. Good chance this was it. The girl's name was Ryvana and she had white hair. Making barely a sound he fluttered to the nearest bed frame. A redheaded girl in a fetal position. Not her. Shit. Wrong room? But then his beady black eyes caught a glint of silver across the room. Pale skin. Long, long silvery white hair. Delicate face. This was her. The bat nipped the string to free the note from his paw and, note between his teeth, flapped to the hook where her robe would hang. It took a few tries to force the scroll into the pocket.

When Ryvana donned her clothes for the day she would feel the crinkle of paper in her front pocket. It was a tiny scroll bound with string and a glob of blue wax.

QuoteNot like the others. See it in your eyes. Not worried if you're too tall or too short, if your nose is too big, or whether or not that boy will ever notice you. You want something more and we can help.

Find The Maw of Mysyryx in the Library. Bring it to Fyarion's Font at midnight.

Wyrdwood had innumerable libraries and book collections. The largest of its libraries was simply called 'The Stacks' and was a sprawling expanse that occupied three floors of the central keep. The lower floors were filled with historical texts and primers on magical theory. The upper floors were off limits but to true wizards and their named apprentices. The imps and gargoyles of Wyrdwood, not to mention a vigilant librarian, kept young students well away from such dangers.
#8
Zantaric / Niamh Wayrest, trader in forbidden lore
August 03, 2019, 12:54:04 AM
Name Niamh Wayrest
Age 28
Gender Female
Species Human
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 5'7"
Occupation Trader in forbidden lore, proprietor of 'Tales Resold', former novitiate of the Order of the Moon
Residence Zantaric

Physical Description
Niamh's face is dotted with freckles and nose slightly upturned, giving her a youthful appearance. Her blue hair is drawn into a neat and utilitarian braid. She is fairly athletic, with the taught muscles of someone who keeps their body in good condition. Her attire is nothing special, she favors a thick wool coat with extra padding and lots of pockets.

Seldom is she without a pair of green-lensed goggles, used to detect magic.

Personality
Niamh is brusque and unpleasantly sarcastic, though more than capable of holding her tongue when its warranted. She has a dark sense of humor and takes pride in her ability to turn a healthy profit, live comfortably, and not ask questions. Beneath her gruff exterior she is kind hearted, and has a soft spot for outcasts and strays. The former witch-hunter sometimes worries about just what her customers are getting up to. Nonetheless, she tells herself it will ultimately help the cause of progress and knowledge.

Besides trading in banned magic and dark curiosities, Niamh has a soft spot for the saccharine and sentimental. The shelves of her shop are filled garish statuettes of animals, children, and faeries. She of course claims she only carries them to disguise the true nature of her shop. They do not sell well.

Magic/Abilities
Until she was 14 Niamh was a novitiate of the Order of the Moon, a sect of priests dedicated to hunting demons and supernatural terrors. Today, she uses her training to trade in the dark arts. Through meditation and concentration she is able to shrug off the effects of curses and hexes, and knows a thing or two about the storage and nullification of daemonic artifacts.

Niamh can fight well with her fists and light blades. Temple training, life on the road, and friendly brawls in Zantaric have only sharpened her skills.

She is cautious, streetsmart, and has a good read of people. Niamh is rarely unprepared and can think straight during a crisis, and excellent at cards.

Relationships
--

History
Niamh was the seventh daughter of a farmer in Moonspear. As her parents aged, and the farm was due to pass to her eldest sister's husband, there was little place for her or in the way of a dowry. And that was all well and good; she was an adventurous tomboy with no intention of settling down. At the age of 11 she was sent away to the Order of the Moon to become a novitiate. For a time she was their pride and joy, with both the willpower and worldliness needed to be an excellent witch-hunter. It was good until it wasn't.

Due to her talent Niamh was sent along with a battalion of daemonhunters to deal with an outbreak of the curse. Crazed villagers were quite different than treacherous witches, and it was a slaughter. She fled and never looked back. The girl made her way south doing odd jobs as a thief and then a thug. And eventually she made her way to Zantaric. Using her particular talents she became involved in smuggling illicit magical paraphernalia. She uses her curio shop, 'Tales Resold', as a front for this.

***

Current Threads

Complete Threads
#9
@Eckhart_Von_Musel

"When I'm in tournaments I usually play with a dragon deck. Basically it lets you play a lot of big monsters earlier. That can really trip people up. Like when I was playing that pillow boy last week's I pulled out a hydra on turn three! The poor kid had no idea how to handle it. He almost shit-" Elwin snorted with laughter. "And then the two-headed one tried to argue with me for five minutes!

Today was either going really perfect, or really badly. Elwin may have let it slip to Juniper Whitechalk that the Headmistress never schedules meetings on Friday afternoons. Now it was 1:00 and the white-heiress was here, but Nettlefield had specified no disturbances until precisely 2:00 P.M. He felt positively awful making Juniper wait, but it gave them time to chat, and he was killing it. Oh Myyla she was just so pretty, and so smart, and not shallow or full of herself like other girls. Elwin never had luck with women, but she just got him. Maybe it was a perfect day. Except that he forgot to shave this morning! Shit! Or did that make him look rugged? It probably did...

"But my favorites are these." Saoirse's pudgy apprentice gave a wry smile, plucking a wad of hexagonal-shaped playing cards from his coat. He splayed for her to see. They were slightly crinkled, as if gripped too long by sweaty hands. There was a stingray with the face of a young woman who sad and lonely, a medusa coiled atop a rock beckoning someone closer, and a winged girl with a bee's abdomen and wicked smirk. "I think these are really the magnum opus of the set. I like how they're so powerful, but its really friendship and stuff that's important to them. You know?

"Some people think that sort of thing is childish. But I think its really shedding misanthropy that makes you mature. When I look at this I don't think the important thing is that she uses Lightning Lure to stun an enemy long enough to use Blackvenom Harpoon. Its that maybe too many ships have disturbed the oceans, and sailors are just what there is to eat. But maybe if someone took the time and showed a little empathy she wouldn't kill humans. You know?"

***

Saoirse was in her plush chair, a cup of spiced cider dangling from her grip. Her large window made the office a touch drafty, but she found the cold bracing. There was a light snow in the air, just enough to make it scenic. She enjoyed watching her school run like clockwork. A wild-haired boy was balanced atop a floating broom on his way to class. Walking beside him was a purple haired youth in an absurd robe of multi-colored fur. Meanwhile a pot-bellied boar-man was naked in the sparring grounds, trying to stand tall while his friend conjured gales of frost in some test of endurance. Two dress code violations? And how did shape-changing factor in? An appendix should be developed to elaborate.

At least her piggish assistant was pulling his weight, if unknowingly. Topping off her drink, she could hear him blathering about those terrible children's cards through her door. He was an utterly perfect assistant when set loose upon the right people. Truly, just who did this Whitechalk girl thinks she was popping in at a moment's notice? And for a first-year student of all things! Wyrdwood had been training magicians for centuries and for a minor donor to waste the Headmistress' time a singular student was absurd. It was in her power to cancel of course, but there had been complaints that six boys to a room was overcrowding...

And more importantly M would be amused. If it were up to him a flame imp would be heating up her doorknob in preparation for Juniper's entry. Crass. But is a man without capacity for juvenile pranks really a man? Once that went other things were bound to follow. She had another hour to enjoy this. Perhaps a crossword?
#10
Zantaric / An Assassin in a Haystack (Eckhart)
June 14, 2019, 10:26:35 AM
@Eckhart_Von_Musel

Zantaric's northern bridge saw little use. It expanded over a brackish swamp and into the scrubby forest beyond. Two scruffy boys sat atop the rails, trying to spot crocodiles. They'd been given a day's break from their chores. It was noon, now, and boredom had settled in. "If you want to play marbles again you'll have to lend me some more. You keep winning them all." Ewan, who was smaller and with a shaved head, fished through his pockets. Three copper coins and a stone disc with an eye. "I don't really have much money left."

"We could go hunting for frogs? Armwrestle? Or we hunt for frogs, I make a little potion for us to slip in Joan's next drink, and she's got slimy green skin for a week? She does deserve it. Sometimes anyway" An impish smirk crossed the little wizard's face, along with a twinge of guilt. "I guess I'm supposed to set a good example for you and all. But you're only this age once, unless you're like me, and a little harmless mischief is natural."

"That or maybe Eckhart will give us some money. Hardly seems fair to get two coppers a week." Ewan was slowly coming to accept he was definitely the lowest ranked among the "Friends", and that the gang had little interest in whatever magic he claimed to possess.

***

Three figures on horseback clopped down the backwood trails of the Blackweald. A pretty young man atop a white horse lead them. Thick mod and prickervines had covered much of the path, and it was slow going. There had been a scuffle at the west gate between a gang and some Duhjari slavers, and they had no choice but to go the long way.

"How do you suppose we'll even find Sarah in this place? As far as I can tell there isn't even a King I could have lunch with. Though would I want to have lunch with him? The entire thing makes me think of cucumber sandwiches with some wrinkly old man. Then again you've got to figure the ruler of a City like this would be more interesting than that. Though this is all hypothetical..." He sighed sharply, not liking the butterflies in his stomach. "And what to say when I do find her?"

"Tell me where to find Basil." Xamuu heaved a shrug of his thick shoulders. Only an enormous draft horse could bear his weight.

"I think she is bound to be a little sore over, I don't know, being banished from the family?" he squirmed, stretching his neck. "That is the problem. Seems a bit rude. And I just don't think she would take Basil."

"You did not banish her. You were younger then. She is older now."

"Oh well. We'll make something up when we arrive." It was important to seem confident and easy in front of men. Of course, the stakes here were enormous. His gaze turned to the crumbling walls and labyrinth of mismatched towers and rooftops beyond. "Finding her should be our real worry. When smelly toothless beggars see people like us they're going to get jealous; try and turn us around. Its a sad state of affairs Xamuu, but what can you do really?"

Through the vegetation the Kishahni man spied a crumbly old bridge over a swamp and two small figures perched atop it. "They have teeth still, I think. I do not know about the smell."
#11
@Eckhart_Von_Musel @Imperfect_M @Yeti @SanguineBladez

Wealdath's Ridge was a far-flung corner of the Terrin Mountains. The slope fell in the Serenian province of Altas Verde after Adela broke away, but being isolated and infertile such things did not much matter. It had taken nearly one week for Wyrdwood's Expedition to reach the summit, and was a frightening week of walking single-file across crumbly old trails and decrepit rope bridges. It seemed sheer luck their map was accurate, and their guide able to follow it. But here they were.

The Mouth of Qokagax was a literal mouth. Part of the cliff-face had been intricately chiseled to resemble the open maw of a dragon. The columns supporting it were fashioned to look like rows of teeth, covered in hieroglyphs and fading paint. It offered a beautiful vista of the surrounding mountainsides, capped with snow and covered in a forest of scrubby pines. The trouble with the Mouth of Qokagax was that it was meant at some point to house a dragon and such its main entrance was meant to be flown from, and if there was a footpath it long since crumbled. A series of scaffolds needed to be constructed in order to reach the gap.

The laborers were nearly finished, and now testing it could bare weight...

Two scholars from Wyrdwood, young woman and an old man, had collected an assortment of mercenaries and scholars for the actual spelunking. The young woman was called Anwen and had done most of the recruiting, sending out letters to various fringe scholars and collecting workers as they marched through the province. The old man was called Maergath and kept largely to himself but to glower.

***

Anwen sat on a crate of climbing supplies watching the workers finish. It was time to go inside. After the long journey, and their brief respite of lazing about camp, it seemed more a chore than an exciting venture. She clapped her uncalloused hands together. "Alright! I think the archaeological team will be going inside. Why don't we get started and-" And no one came or even heard her above the din. The Old Man snorted in annoyance. She knew he was watching and judging this whole thing, meant to be her show.

"You do not think everyone will be going. Everyone is going." Maergath mumbled, dripping venom. With that he slammed his cane on the ground, creating a thunderous boom, rattling tools and ears. "Your leader SPEAKS! Those of you who have been idle and lazing about! Here! Now!"

"Well, everyone going into the Mouth should come here. We'll go over the details and get started," blood flushed to Anwen's pale face, and she forced a smile.

***

Oliver Driftwind hoped he would get to do more than moved rocks. The chance to do some proper ruins delving and adventuring was just too perfect. There were wizards from the university, a goblin alchemist, and even a famous ranger! And he would get to go with them! After all he had a sword, armor, and had read just so many books on all the animistic worship and dragon cults of early Altas Verde. Mostly he got asked to do the heavy lifting, and as a young man it seemed impolite to refuse. By midday he was sweaty and bored out of his mind.

Then came a deafening thunderclap, and the real adventurers began to encircle Anwen. Ollie went rushing over, tightening his armor as he went, a stupid smile on his face. "H-hullo! I'm Ollie if you don't know me. I'm ready to go!"
#12
Events Plotting / Into the Mouth of Qokagax
May 23, 2019, 02:46:19 PM
The Mouth of Qokagax

QuoteThe Mouth of Qokagax is a deep, twisting barrow in the hills of southernmost Serendipity. The temple holds the bones of Qokagax, a wyrm of prodigious size and psionic power, once worshipped by ancient tribes of the Terrin mountains. When Adela left Serendipity, and mixed-blooded people of Altas Verde chose to remain, the barrow fell on their side of the border. It has long been untouched due to the treacherous climb, cold soil, and fiercesome beasts. A cabal of academics from Wyrdwood have recently taken an archaeological interest in the site, promising extravagant sums of money to every lordling and bureaucrat who stand in their way.

Our story begins at a ramshackle campsite near the barrow's entrance. Anwen ferch Rhys, a budding scholar of blood magic and other primitive powers, has assembled a mixed crew of whatever reckless explorers, glory-seeking academics, and desperate laborers are fooling to come along...

I've always wanted to try running something more akin to a traditional rpg-adventure on Spirits of the Earth. This is meant to be a small-scale tomb raiding adventure with some shady undercurrents. The central plot will be the search for Qokagax's bones, of course, but based on who joins us I'm happy to incorporate anything from puzzle-solving, to action, to simply the day-to-day of living in a subterranean campsite.

I'm looking for about 2-4 characters to join the adventure. I do not expect the thread to move at lightning speed with so many characters but we will try our best. Ideally, I want to try and provide as much sidebar information here so players do not need me to player "dungeon master" with respect to how the environment ought to be.

Character Ideas

  • A cat burglar, who has double-crossed his employers time and time again, is brought along as bait for traps.
  • A pampered apprentice, sore over her mediocre evaluations, has volunteered in order to prove her worth.
  • A tired old farmer whose wife just passed on has come along as a laborer, and to see the world for once. He is quite a bit more resourceful than he or any others might have thought.
  • Any other academic, or misfit, will do. Granted, Adelans are liable to be turned away.

Enlisted Characters
Anwen ferch Rhys, expedition leader 
Molly Starklein, ranger and guide
Tee-kup, explosive wizard
Llewellyn, professor of magical creatures
Azagrimm Bronzehand

I think this might be easiest to organize in the Wyrdwood discord, the url is: https://discord.gg/CYumdYV. Your character does not need to be affiliated with it in order to join.
#13
Name Anwen ferch Rhys
Age 24
Sex Female
Species Human
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 5'3"
Occupation Junior Instructor, Enforcer for the Broken Seal
Residence Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science

Physical Description
Anwen is small and thin in the manner of someone who does not eat as she should. Her skin is pale and dappled with freckles, and her hair a wild mess of red, always with some loose strands try as she might to restrain them.

The sorceress garbs herself in the azure instructor's robe of Wyrdwood, though her's is often wrinkled, adorned with a small handful of well-kept awards and medallions. Most striking is her necklace, which is actually a live, Yoruiqien hibiscus plant.

Amazing artwork by Eckhart_Von_Musel!



Personality
Anwen is mousy and soft-spoken. She finds it difficult to speak with confidence, and is more inclined to agreeably nod her head and later grumble behind someone's back. All her life she has tried to follow in the footsteps of her older brother Ewan, who she adores and looks up to, but whose natural talent and creativity she is lacking. Nonetheless she has tried her best to match his achievements through sheer force of will alone. Much of her formative years were spent falling asleep in books she did not quite understand, picking up extra assignments, and other thankless tasks in hopes of being noticed. These experiences have toughened her, and she has little patience for time-wasters and corner-cutters. Anwen has fought for everything she has, and is always looking to prove herself.

During her adolescence the youth of Serendipity became rather obsessed with Yoreiqi fashion and tradition. Anwen developed a taste for it, which never quite left her entirely, and she collects insects from the island nation...

Magic/Abilities
Anwen has only recently completed her apprenticeship and is a wizard of some middling skill. Like all members of her family she has some talent with life and blood magic, she can use it to heal and transform plant and animal matter. Anwen's particular area of study are the shamanistic traditions of early humans and giantkin.

She is particular well versed in channeling magic into an individual via their blood. She is tasked with keeping a vast library that contains blood samples from all of Wyrdwood's students... and influential graduates.

Relationships
Ewan ap Rhys, "older" brother, now technically her youngest
Carwen ap Rhys, younger brother and current heir to the family
Maggie Fen-breath, mentor in the study of Blood Magic
MAERGATH, direct superior in secretive matters

History
Anwen is the second child of House Rhys, an influential family of the Ravensway province. She lived an idyllic childhood with her older brother Ewan, much of it exploring the dark woods and rolling meadows of the Ravenswood. Much like her brothers she developed an aptitude for life magic, and was sent to Wyrdwood. But unlike her older brother she struggled with the grueling regimen, meeting but not exceeding expectations. She had the will to succeed, but not the ability.

Nearing graduation the young sorceress caught the eye of the necromancer Maergath. She was one of the few students to enroll in his singular course on wards and counterspells, and the very last to give up. He offered her the opportunity to represent the Rhys family within the Broken Seal, and she was kept on as faculty at Wyrdwood to maintain its archive of blood. Years passed and her project, and studies of Yoreiqi blood magic, progressed.

And then Maggie Fen-breath came to Wyrdwood, to serve as Magistrix of Black Magic. The kindly hag needed an assistant for teaching the lower froms, and Anwen was the most junior faculty. Anwen was found to be an exceptionally gifted teacher, much to Maggie's delight. But her career now stands at a crossroads: educating serendipity's young minds, or bringing death and humiliation to its enemies...

***

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#14
Serendipity / Sage Whitechalk, first born son
May 22, 2019, 03:10:29 PM
Name Sage Whitechalk
Age 24
Sex Male
Species Human
Ethnicity Serenian, Altas Verde
Height 5'10"
Occupation Heir to House Whitechalk
Residence Whitechalk Manor, in the shadow of Wyrm Mountain

Physical Description
Sage stands at average height, with the slender-yet-athletic build of someone teetering still between adolescence and adulthood. His features are pretty and delicate, heavily favoring fey ancestory, usually graced by the confident smirk of a boy who has known nothing but success in life. He has a wild mane of the Whitechalk's silvery hair, well-styled of course, to look perpetually wind-blown.

The Whitechalk heir favors loose silks, when he bothers to wear much of anything at all.

At court functions, or on the non-occasion he goes to war, Sage armors himself with a white-gold breastplate trimmed with indigo. At all times he wears an silver ring, engraved with the whitechalk family crest, and fitted with a large aquamarine - his spirit-stone.

Spoiler
Art by Verdant

[close]

Personality
Sage the beautiful heir to a powerful and illustrious family of mages. He is a unique specimen and knows it, and carries himself with all the arrogance and bravado he can muster. When Sage enters a tavern, everyone gets a round and their dinner paid for; if there is an archery contest he needs to win, and strike his opponents' arrows down mid-flight. Of course, surrounding himself with an entourage of sorcerers and magical creatures to draw power from helps him stay the center of attention.

Sage is well aware of his precarious position in life. He may not always have his family fortune, wizard-servants, or dashing good looks. He is bad with money and spreads himself far too thin working to make and keep friends.

His one true achievement, independent of his station, is mastery of the Children's card game Monster Mash! He is, nonetheless, deeply embarrassed by this fact...

Magic/Abilities
Sage can mimic and amplify the magic of others. At a given time he can only command one set of powers, which means to acquire a new spell he must give up an old one. By proximity Sage knows if someone has magical potential, but not necessarily what they can do. It is completely possible for Sage to steal someone's magic and have no idea how to wield it properly. If he were to stick a single spell, Sage could indeed surpass its user with practice. Nonetheless, he has a short attention span and gets bored very easily.

As a highborn heir, Sage is trained in riding, swordplay, and forestry. While he is not an especially gifted fighter, years of practice has made him a competent knight. Coming from the Whitechalk family, known for being indolent and reliant on magical servants, he is proud of his middling martial prowess.

Lastly, Sage is a rather talented player at the children's card game Monster Mash! He became hooked on the game as a boy, some years ago, when it first grew popular in Serendipity. As a young man he continues to play, and win, though is rather embarrassed about the whole thing and tries to keep his life separate, despite the fame and notoriety it wins him... among thirteen-year-olds.

Relationships
Rosemary Whitechalk, proud mother
Juniper Whitechalk, annoying younger sister
Basil Whitechalk, adoring little brother
Sarah Whitechalk, estranged cousin

History
Sage is First Born son the Whitechalks of Altas Verde. The reclusive family dwells at the foot of Wyrm Mountain, known for their eccentricity as much as their magical power. He has been raised since childhood to be heir to his house. Despite this burden he is \ashamed of his family's indolent ways, and has strives to achieve the martial prowess held in high esteem by other families in Altas Verde.

During his childhood he was quite close with his cousin, Sarah, who was later banished from the family for lack of magical potential. His sister Juniper had a role in this, but was young enough he cannot hate her it The experience has nonetheless soured him on his family's hands-off approach to rulership.

***

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#15
@Yeti

Saoirse's office was a vast solarium overlooking Wyrdwood's courtyard and the mountains beyond. It was big, with a two-story personal library and each previous headmaster immortalized in bust. Book by book she had the Library re-organized to her liking, the previous headmasters' accolades and portraits shuffled off to the attics. Making the office her's, of course, was a small thing; having books and portraits and accolades that would be remembered forever was quite another.

And that was why she invited the Ape.

The Headmistress had Llewellyn's latest manuscript neatly annotated and spread across her desk. There were keys to his quarters, a list of courses he was to teach, past instructor notes, instructions for requisitioning research materials, and numerous other minutia. Llewellyn's joining them was a done deal, of course, and this was mostly a matter of setting tone. Just how much of their animal selves did familiars retain after all? It was no matter. The important thing was that Wyrdwood had a wizard who could bring the study of familiars and Eidolons to new heights, and that absurd little wreck of a college in Arca did not. That was the sort of thing that won you immortality. The real kind. Being remembered. But where was he?

Elwin, Saoirse's portly and bespectacled apprentice, stood neatly at attention outside her door. Waiting nervously and beginning to pale. Had he forgotten send a confirmation confirming they received Llewellyn's confirmation?
#16
Serendipity / OLIVER THE BARBARIAN
November 30, 2018, 11:32:20 PM
Name Ollie Driftwind, "Oliver the Barbarian"
Age 21
Sex Male
Species Human
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 5'6"
Occupation Aspiring Barbarian, Adventurer, Hero
Residence His parents' bookshop in Altas Verde, where he used to work

Physical Description
Ollie is a handsome youth with delicate, fey features, and big green eyes. He sports olive skin and a mop of dirty blonde hair. Despite his short stature and baby-face, Ollie has the wide frame and thick muscles only a lifetime of physical labor can bring.

The youth normally clads himself in an old bronze breastplate, matched with bracers and shin-guards. Ollie has never had cause to wear armor in his life but Karuuthux was rather insistent on the matter. His prize possessions include a colorful wool serape his mother knitted, and a pair of gold-rimmed reading glasses.

Strapped across his back is Karuuthux. It is a broadsword made of Cyathil, a rare metal found in Altas Verde, and with strong magic and soul conductance. The weapon itself predates Serendipity and the province by quite a bit. It seems to be more in the style of natives to what is now Adela. The blade is blue-green, and the hilt is forged to resemble dragon wings with an amethyst pommel.

Personality
Ollie is cheerful and sweet-natured, if a bit shy. When it comes to puzzles, mathematics, and recalling bits of trivia he's utterly brilliant. However, he has a certain childish naivete that leaves him vulnerable. As far as Ollie is concerned he simply chooses to see the best in people, and prefers to solve problems without violence or harsh words. This puts him at odds with the blade. He has chosen to use his new situation as a means to escape his humdrum life and explore the wonders of Le'raana.

If the newly minted barbarian does have a sore spot, it's when his intelligence is underestimated or he's asked to move heavy things.

Kaaruthax is cynical, worldly, and sarcastic. The weapon has seen the rise and fall of innumerable would-be-heroes after all. He's simply giddy at the prospect of grinding a worthy opponent to dust, or bracing bloodsport at the very least. Strength through adversity is his mantra. Whether the sword has some grand designs for Ollie, or simply seeks to be wielded to his full potential, remains to be seen.

Magic/Abilities
Ollie's sword, Kaaruthux, has given him a powerful physique and exceptional combat prowess. The weapon is inhabited by an ancient dragon spirit once loyal to his ancestor. It seems to have some influence over Ollie's body and actions. For now, it has transformed him into a barbarian-hero. An untapped power, however, resides within...

Ollie is in exceptionally strong and athletic, well beyond a normal human. He could easily wrestle an ogre, or run for days without tiring. The boy excels at swordplay, brawling, and acrobatics. No doubt he could use a catapult to land on a dragon, kill it, and glide the carcass to safety.

A life of working in a bookshop has given Ollie a vast knowledge of history and folklore. He might even be able to work a spell or two if he were careful about it. Otherwise he is quick-witted with a good imagination, and an excellent problem solver.


Relationships
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History
Ollie spent most of his life working at his parents' bookshop. Usually this entailed making deliveries, transcribing books, or teaching local children to read. Still, Ollie dreamt of visiting far off places and becoming a great wizard-hero like in children's tales.

The young man did settle on one small adventure. Family records revealed they were descendants of an ancient Adelan hero, Aratur the Wyrmlord. Ollie decided he would venture to Aratur's resting place. It turned out to be a miserable little cairn on a lonely hillside. Beyond disappointed, he set up camp. His dreams were unusually vivid that night: first he was flying on dragon back, then pommeling centaur hordes with his fists, saving a pretty elf from a terrible troll and other wondrous feats.

Upon awakening Ollie had an irresistible urge to dig through Aratur's Cairn. He dug and he dug until he came upon a talking sword. A mean talking sword, but a talking sword nonetheless. It called itself Kaaruthux and was utterly incredulous as how a runt like Ollie was descended from the hero Aratur. Nevertheless, the boy would have to do...

***

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#17
@Legit Violet

"Ow!" A delicate boy with feathery blonde hair yelped in pain. A second boy, with two heads had slammed a fist into his  stomach and sent him reeling. "I don't care if you've only got one dick between you. You've got two heads and can cast two spells at once. How am I supposed to compete?"

"All I had was an antimagic ward. It's the easiest thing. You could have turned the ground to muck or summoned a fog or something to buy time. But fine. I'll sit out while you spar Kana." The left-most head, Liam, sighed. And they really were predictable. Most of the time Kana just turned their fists to stone and charged. All Liam had to do was protect them.

"No way! Me and Liam are basically one guy now, and we're always going to be stuck together. If I need to put up with his boring books I should get to win bouts with him." Their right-most head grinned, reaching over and ruffling his "brother's" hair.

"Stop! You always mess it-"

"You should braid it like mine anyway. One for each victory! I mean I'll always have a little more but we'd match."

Dylan, the blonde boy, snorted in annoyance and climbed atop a boulder to sit. Kaliam arguing with themselves was funny until it was annoying. He didn't mind them ordinarily but the constant bickering, shouting, and wrestling was exhausting. With a sigh he turned his gaze to throw highlands. It beautiful in the summer when the sun took hours to set. You never got to appreciate that sort of thing during school, usually, but it was another week until the term started.

"Hey guys! Who is that?" Dylan pointed at a small girl making her way up the winding road to Wyrdwood. "I've never seen her. Not here or at the village."

"She might be a spy? Maybe we should go and, you know, feel her out?" Liam squinted down at the figure. If she was a villager why not being supplies? Shapeshifting into a student would be the perfect disguise anyway.

"Since when can you talk to girls? And she's probably just some farmer. Let's say hello!" The trio perched themselves at the Alex of the path, trying not to look too interested in the newcomer.
#18
Plotting Center / A Guest Lecturer
September 28, 2018, 09:36:04 PM
For a while now I've really wanted to do more academic and research-themed roleplay with Wyrdwood. I though I'd and kick things off by doing a short thread about a guest-lecturer visiting the school. So if anyone has any scholars, explorers, or archaeologists who want to share their work - now's your chance!

I've been looking to give Wyrdwood's spiteful headmistress some more play. Saoirse Nettlefield has long been an aggressive proponent of her Theory of Unified Elemental Transformation, to the point of subtle sabotage against its detractors. She also knows how to nurse a grudge. I thought it might be fun if she invited an academic rival as an attempt at public humiliation... whether or not it backfires is up to whatever witty barbs and brandy fueled derision our character can throw at each-other.
#19
Name Saoirse Nettlefield
Age 57
Sex Female
Species Human
Ethnicity Serenian
Height 5'8"
Occupation Headmistress of Wyrdwood Academy of Arcane Science, Magistrix of Elemental Magic
Residence Wester Highlands of Serendipity

Physical Description
Saoirse is a tall and angular woman in her late fifties. She retains the statuesque beauty of her youth, but a perpetual grimace has aged her face. Her silver hair is tied into a neat bun, and her cat-like eyes are a striking violet.

The headmistress is almost always seen in the starchy blue robes of a Wyrdwood, though her's is adorned with a glittering array of stoles, cords, and medallions. A pin, depicting three winged eyes, signifies special distinction in magical research awarded by the Head Mage of Serendipity.

Personality
Saoirse is a perfectionist. The world is a chaotic place in need of ordering, and a keen mind like her's is the one to do it. Table manners, well-oiled bureaucracy, and alphabetized bookshelves are her very favorite things.

Beyond that, the headmistress is extraordinarily proud, spiteful, and vindictive. Though content to preen and enjoy the perks of her position, Saorise would spend ten years learning how to burn water if someone said she could not. Saorise aggressively pushes for the Nettlefield Theory of Unified Elemental Transformation to be the only accepted theory of magic, and is very willing to sabotage efforts to prove it wrong... at any cost.

Magic/Abilities
Saoirse is an elemental alchemist. She can manipulate all four elements and synthesize a variety of effects and compounds. Though a respectable mage, she does not have the creativity to be a truly fearsome opponent.

What she does have is a keen mind for politics. Despite not being terribly warm or likeable, Saoirse has maneuvered her way to the top.

Relationships
Saoirse has an uneasy alliance with Maergath. She makes sure he is not bothered, and he solves problems diplomacy cannot. They still hate one another.

History
Saoirse was born to Serenian gentry, and long harbored aspirations of being a mage. She was accepted to no major academies, but was instead apprenticed to a hedge wizard. She had little patience for mending sick cattle and restoring withered crops, and fought tooth and nail for a guest lecturer position in Arca. There she conducted a series of experiments proving that all magical effects were derived from the manipulation of five elemental energies: fire, water, air, earth, and animus. She became somewhat famous for the work, supposedly, and was offered a Fellowship at Wyrdwood by its previous headmaser, Kieran Whent. This is, of course, unrelated to Headmaster Whent being caught in a rather compromising position with an otherworldly being at a party in Arca...

Magistrix Nettlefield has spent most of her time at Wyrdwood hosting parties, touring with dignitaries, and securing large donations for the school. She does find time to make sure her thirty year old theory is accepted as dogma.

The Nettlefield Theorum of Unified Elemental Transformation
1. Everything, from steel to flesh, is composed of elemental matter (fire, water, air, or earth) in some ratio or configuration.

2. Animus, or life energy, can be bound to elemental matter to give it motion, allowing for reconfiguration and recomposition. For example, the movement of the human body by its own animus.

3. Animate force is commutative. Matter will change in accordance to the sum of all animate force.

4. Flow through and bondage to a given medium is highly variable. For example, animus will bond readily to flesh (both living and dead) and poorly through iron. The psychic radiance of Mordecai can staunch the flow of Animus to nil, preventing bondage.

***

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#20
Absences/Returns / Not going to be around much
June 12, 2018, 08:19:47 PM
Though people probably haven't noticed I haven't been around in the last few weeks. Its probably going to be like this for another month or so. Sorry i haven't had a chance to to give notice.

If anyone I'm threading with wants to wrap up or drop a story-line, no worries.