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Jul 10, 08 at 2:52pm ^Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
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In the beginning of time, there was only nothing; a primordial mess of dust and rock. Amid this mess stood the Beginner, Kronus, who began time's clock. With the beginning of time came the birth of seven gods who together with the Beginner, were able to forge a planet out of the nothingness; a realm for them to rule. The bland dust and rock became a beautiful land of blue oceans, green fields and forests, and captivating mountains. And rule, the deities did for centuries with little strife. As Cronus' clock turned on, however, disagreements sprang up between the eight deities, eventually leading to a permanent split between them. The four elemental deities, the Earth Goddess Flora, Water God Boreas, Wind Goddess Aeola, and Fiery God Loki sought to travel through the endless void of time and space in search of planets like that which they had created; barren and empty, and give birth to life on the otherwise empty planet the eight gods had forged. For where was the point in ruling a planet devoid of life? They are the Creators. The remaining deities, the god of Death, Charon; Nyx, Goddess of the Darkness and Night; the commander of lightning, Alastor; and the lord of time himself, Cronus, deigned to leave the world as it was and travel through the endless void in search of other planets to conquer and destroy, for what was the point in their special powers if their power could not be used to the fullest? They are the Destroyers.
As this conflict in interest rose again and again without settlement or compromise, tension began to mount. Seven of the gods left the planet they had created and constructed their own planets from the endless dust of space. Boreas claimed Mercury, Aeolus gave birth to Venus, and Loki created the red planet, Mars. Of the Destroyers, Alastor created Jupiter, planet of eternal storms; Kronus wove Saturn whereas Nyx created Uranus, and finally, Charon took Neptune. Only the earth Goddess Flora remained on the original planet: Gaea. Without the aid of the other gods, however, none of those planets would ever be as beautiful nor as lively as Gaea, but that mattered not. Those planets were not meant to be replicas of Gaea. They were meant to be battlefields. Within half a century after the creation of the new planets, a war between the gods and their loyal servants and warriors, the messengers, began.
The Coming of Chaos
One by one, planets were reduced to ruin. Battle after battle, the Creators fought against the Destroyers until the only battlefield that remained was Gaea. Only Flora did not fight. Only Flora wept for the land destroyed in the conflict. All that the gods had worked together for, striven to create, was lost. The battles on Gaea were fierce and cataclysmic. The planet was no longer beautiful. It was no longer blue and green, but brown and gray. Its once captivating mountains became scarred by ferocious battle.
It was in the midst of one such battle that the Messenger Eris appeared.
"I am Eris, Messenger of the Ender, Chaos," spoke she, "I come to herald the coming of Chaos himself. Know that with his descent will come your ends. Even you, Cronus, lord of time. The so called 'Beginner.' For only Chaos is eternal." And then the Messenger of Chaos was gone.
Flora watched from afar as panic ensued among the other gods. How could they stop Chaos? How could they stop the End?
Perhaps it was mere convenience or perhaps some unknown celestial deity had deigned to seal the other gods away, but the alignment of the stars and planets was perfect that night. The seven warring gods were sealed away into the abyss, Tartarus. Only Flora remained. Flora wept for her fallen friends. Wept for her destroyed planet. She wept for all loss. And it was her tears, the Water of Life, that began life anew on Gaea. Oceans long since frozen and covered by dust sprang to life. By the rain that was Flora's tears, the green forests returned, and it was Flora's tears that healed the mountains.
"You must seal yourself as well," spoke a voice, "I have allowed you to heal your planet and plant the required seeds. Chaos has been sealed this night in addition to your companions. But this seal is not eternal. Only Chaos is eternal. When the stars and planets again align themselves, Chaos will break free. You must be ready by then."
"Who is it that speaks to me?" Flora whispered.
"I am Oranos." And then Flora, too, was sealed away until the promised time.
"...And Flora, mother of the Earth, and her trusted servant Cybele sewed the seeds of life on Gaea. The last of the seeds grew to be the humans." Priest Dilles closed his book and smiled at the gathered children before him, "And that is how, four thousand years ago, we were born. Now run along."
Among the throng of children springing happily out of the church were Ka'enn Glenwell, heir to the throne of Gaea, and his twin sisters: Ferrina and Raven.
"The Goddess Flora, eh?" Ka'enn shook his head, "I am not meant for studying such things. A ruler need know only his subjects, politics, and the way of war and battle."
"Brother, you know mother and father wish that you learn more of our people's culture," Ferrina berated her brother.
Ka'enn smiled at his sister, "I can just ask you, can't I? Where would a king be without his dearest sisters?"
"He's trying to lick your shoes, Ferrina, don't let him," Raven said through a smile.
"I won't," Ferrina responded, "He can learn it all on his own. But tell me, brother, how go the negotiations with Terra?"
Gaea and Terra. Two nations that had existed since the beginning of life on the planet. Like the gods before them, the two kingdoms had always been on relatively peaceful terms with one another, but recent disagreements over borders have begun.
"Badly," Ka'enn sighed, "While the royal families try to negotiate, our people break treaties and radical Terrans are attacking Gaeans and vice-versa. It's a vicious cycle of retaliation. War seems inevitable. And this war will shake the entire planet."
How correct Ka'enn was. The planets were aligning. The gods of old were breaking free. They have chosen their avatars, people gifted with their power and abilities. Soon, the war of the gods will return to Gaea. And soon once more, Chaos will descend.
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Jul 10, 08 at 2:53pm ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
Flora - Goddess of Earth (Ishilar)
Messenger: Cybele (Notoriety)
Boreas - God of Water/Ice (Entei Luver)
Aeola - Goddess of Air/Wind (Aeola)
Loki - God of Fire (Rust)
Messenger: Kirin (Rust)
Kronus - God of Time (Norad 2)
Messenger: Azul (GreatPhoenix)
Nyx - Goddess of Darkness/Shadow (Aulis Vaara)
Charon - God of Death (Ishilar)
Messenger: Thanatos (Ishilar)
Alastor - God of Lightning (Tiger of Wu)
Messenger: Nemesis (Tiger of Wu)
Chaos - End (not playable)
Messenger: Eris (not playable)
World (Capital cities & border cities included)
Apologies about the blurriness. -_-
Once again, I am very sorry about the blurriness. D=
Locations: See country maps for layouts.
Unlike the other territories in Gaea (all of which have self-explanatory titles), the Haroc Desert is largely uninhabitable do to the harshness of the heat and lack of water. There is only one oasis in the desert, supposedly, and in that oasis lies the Tree of Life planted by Flora and her loyal Messenger Cybele when the healing of the planet began. Nourished by the tears of Flora and the soil created by Cybele, the Tree of Life flourished and dropped the seeds that would evolve into all forms of life on the planet. After it's job was complete, it was moved by an unknown force into the desert so that those who would seek to harness the Tree or destroy would never be able to do so. The Oasis and the Tree are both in constant movement within the desert.
A single settlement lies at the desert's edge near the endless expanse of the ocean from which it takes it's water. The settlement is largely for travelers searching for the Tree of Life, but because of it's inconvenient location at the other side of the desert, few populate it.
Lying at the very edge of Terra, the Deadlands is a long stretch of land where no life grows and the air is thin and hot. No wind blows in the Deadlands. As it's name implies, the land is dead. Nothing exists there. Nothing lives there. The oldest stories passed along only through word of mouth say that the Deadlands is the one place on the planet that Flora's tears did not reach. The land stands as a testament to the war of the gods and a constant reminder of what the world will become should the gods ever war again. Largely, however, the people of the planet know nothing of this truth and simply accept it as uninhabitable. According to the same legend, Flora's ancient palace of old, Isil, lies somewhere in the Deadlands. Many have searched for this palace, but none could survive in the harsh environment for longer than a day.
1. Fasciliates (Capital) (Very Large)
2. Orcana (Medium)
3. Rodend (Medium)
4. Haroc (Very Small)
5. Dormap (Large)
6. Porare (Small)
7. Lorma (Small)
8. Nazcal (Small)
9. Razgarde (Large)
10. Solasia (Small)
11. Moreven (Medium)
12. Hanop (Large)
13. Ramslit (Medium)
14. Sorenheim (capital) (Very Large)
15. Slorn (Medium)
16. Frigar (Large)
17. Rowena (Small)
18. Evart (Small)
19. Arwei (Large)
20. Kumbu (Medium)
21. Urak (Small)
22. Yusci (Large)
23. Lavronos (Large)
24. Isil (Unknown)
25. Cilthrim (Medium)
Mod Edit: Aug 19, 08 by Ishilar
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Jul 10, 08 at 2:54pm ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
Birth place: (Pick a city, any city)
Alliance: (Gaea or Terra)
Avatar: God or Messenger (READ!). Your choice.
Other: (anything else you feel like including)
Link to previous RP/work: (preferably your best, obviously)
PM character sheets and/or questions to me
~Allied with Gaea~
Ferrina Glenwell // Flora (Ishilar)
Raven Glenwell // Flora (Ishilar)
Cardova Orenzio // Loki (Rust)
Kirin // Kirin (Rust)
K'iann // Boreas (Entei Luver)
Kiran Ristaavi // Aeola (Aeola)
Cybelle // Cybelle (Notoriety)
~Allied with Terra~
Lucifer // Charon (Ishilar)
Mielikki // Nyx (Aulis Vaara)
Raiju // Alastor (Tiger of Wu)
Kolya Benitrius Volgren // Kronus (Norad 2)
Horus "Duo" (GreatPhoenix)
Seraphine "Duet" // Azul (GreatPhoenix)
Kushluk Shimazu (Kushluk Shimazu)
lol @ all of the Creators allying themselves with Gaea and all of the Destroyers allying themselves with Terra. Coincidence or did you guys think the the gods had a set side?
Mod Edit: Aug 19, 08 by Ishilar
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Jul 10, 08 at 9:08pm ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
Birth place: Orcana
Appearance: K'iann has a very muscular body. He has bright blue eyes which he has been shunned for since birth. He has medium brown hair, and he stands at 6'1 even.
Bio: When K'iann was born his parents soon discovered that their child was different. They sought the wisdom of an Old Wise man to help them through this. The man merely had to touch the child to know that there was great, fearsome power within him. The Wise Man merely told the parents what they wanted to hear. That K'iann was destined to be a great warrior and should be trained as such as soon as possible. They believed him and sent K'iann to be trained by a combat instructor. The instructor taught he most known forms of armed and unarmed combat. During one such lesson K'ainn got frustrated enough they he accidentally tapped into his powers, killing the man. Ever since he has been training his powers for the betterment of Gaea.
Weapon(s): A steel longsword and a concealed knife.
I'm too old for this
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Jul 10, 08 at 9:09pm ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
Name: Cardova Orenzio
Birth place: Ramslit
Appearance: Cardova is rather short in stature, standing at only five feet six inches, and is of the wiry body type. Messy red-orange hair adorns his head, short but long enough for people to need to tell him to take care of it. His deep brown eyes seem to bar people from staring into his eyes and finding out what kind of person he is. While his angular face could be passable as attractive, his physical habits (how he stands, how he stares at the ground, etc.) keep him from being the center of attention.
Bio: Cardova grew up as an orphan living in the St. Emily's Home for the Young and Gifted. Despite it's name, it was pretty much just an orphanage. His parents died while he was still a baby due to a house fire caused by an unknown source. Much to the townspeople's joy, Cardova appeared to be completely fine. He was hailed as a miracle child until it became apparent that he wasn't going to be doing any more miracles. He had recently parted ways with his home and has been content to wander about from town to town aimlessly.
Avatar: Loki, God of Fire
Weapon(s): A leather whip
Age: roughly 4500 years old
Birth place: N/A
Alliance: Gaea, but only for Cardova
Appearance: Kirin is a Fire Sprite standing at 6 inches tall. His appearance is that of a human although his skin is an eerie blue color much like the ones you would find in the hottest flames. His eyes are non existant, but instead a fireball floats inside each of his eye sockets. With a bald head, those who can see him would find him to be a menacing threat indeed. That is, if he wasn't so short. He wears a robe that looks like it was made of flowing lava and a hat that looks the same; despite their appearance, they are not hot to the touch, only midly warm.
Bio: Kirin was created by Loki long ago when the wars were still taking place. Kirin soon became the Fire God's messenger as he was made to be next to indestructible and so he wouldn't be injured easily. He served Loki loyally for five centuries until his master was cast into the void. Knowing that his master would one day be free and roam the world once more, he sealed himself inside of an active volcano out in the sea. He slept peacefully for four thousand years before he was rudely awakened. He didn't fret, though, as he prepared to seek out his fallen master.
Avatar: Messenger of Fire
Other: His powers over the flame had diminished over the years. He expects that they will return when his master is back at full power, but at the moment he doesn't worry too much about it. The most control he has over fire is to create a pocket of heat around his body and become a light source for Loki/Cardova. He cannont be seen by anyone other than the gods and other messengers, and he has been known to explode at random intervals, much to his surprise. Although he has legs and is capable of walking, he can float through the air as if he were a balloon.
Edit: Jul 18, 08
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|Tiger of Wu||
Jul 11, 08 at 2:10am ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
Birth Place: Fasciliates
Appearance: Raiju stands at five foot and eight inches tall. He is of a well-balanced body type, not skinny but not fat, not all-flesh yet not really muscular. His short hair is, in colour, in between grey and white. He has hazel eyes and a handsome face, his skin colour being a very light shade of brown, making his hair colour more noticeable.
Bio: Raiju had a normal life growing up. He was sometimes teased because of his contrasting skin and hair, but it was all in good fun. He had good friends and a loving family, just another normal kid. Unfortunately for him this normal life was soon to end as his parents were a part of a secret organisation working for Terra, who planned to assassinate the royalty of Gaea. They failed in their attempts and were executed. Raiju didn't know until two days after it happened. He was looking for them with the help of some friends, at the age of eleven, and eventually found out what had happened. He felt an overwhelming sadness like he had never felt before. The two people he had loved more then anything... dead. After a day or two, he began thinking deeply about it. Maybe his parents were right in their attempts, maybe Terra was the more worthy kingdom. Maybe Gaea are the bad people in this war. He started to feel anger, an inner rage like no other. It began to consume him, until eventually... well, he doesn't know what happened. His next memory was awakening in Moreven. Apparently he was found unconscious on the outskirts of the city. He heard a demon had rampaged through Fasciliates, unseen as anyone it came into contact with was killed. Raiju payed it no heed, his mind filled with thoughts of revenge. He left Moreven as soon as he could, making his way towards Terra. He now spends his days in Sorenheim, training amongst the armies, awaiting for his chance to do battle with the kingdom responsible for his parents death.
Weapon(s): A Halberd, perfectly fit for his size.
I had a dream I could buy my way to heaven,
When I awoke I spent that on a necklace.
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Jul 11, 08 at 6:07am ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
Birth place: Sorenheim
Appearance: Standing at only four feet and eleven inches short, one would not attribute Mieli the correct amount of years she has lived. Her face is also surprisingly youthful and aside from the top of her head, she doesn't seem to have any hair at all.
Mieli has nearly black irises and rather wild black hair that is considered short for a female person. She tends to dress equally darkly, and although the times have become somewhat darker, it still makes her stand out.
She has a tattoo of a crescent moon on her right shoulder. Her ears are pierced and she often wears small earrings matching the tattoo.
She has scars across the inside of her left arm, how or why they were created is only known to Mieli herself. On the same arm, she also has what appears to be two rings of needle puncture wounds on the upper arm.
In certain circles it is whispered that what is hidden is even worse than that which can be seen.
Bio: Mieli was born in the capital of Terra in time of Turmoil. Poverty was abundant and her parent did not have the resources to take care of her. So Mieli was sold to a wealthy family where she was raised as a servant of the family. She was a good servant, perfectly obediant and not knowing any better than her own miserable life. She was too young to realize anyway.
When she was ten years old, the family she served was killed in an extremist raid that killed dozens of families, its only purpose to show Terra that Gaea could get to them. Mieli was grabbed in the process, nothing more than a spoil of war. She was taken to Gaea where she served a new master. Despite her terrible conditions in the previous family, this new master was even worse, he beat and raped her at his leisure, yet she still didn't know any better than to let it happen. Until one night in the next year, vengeance came from Terra and her new master was killed in turn.
Once again, Mieli was nothing more than a trophy to be taken back to Terra. This time around, things got a little better, she was trained to fight and kill. Though a sword was much to heavy for her, she showed promise with varying knives, daggers and bows. She was indoctrinated to hate Gaea, but considering she didn't have a clue what Gaea or Terra were, it didn't really stick, at least not the way it should have.
By age fifteen, she was sent on her first raid into Gaea, she performed beautifully for those who trained her, but when she got back to camp, she found them all missing or slain. Puberty having kicked in by then, Mieli did not return to her training grounds or any other place she knew. No, she did whatever she felt like. She wandered the border between Gaea and Terra for a long time, where she made a living by killing rich targets in their sleep. Instead of being found out, rich people simply began to stay away from the border town, which made it harder for Mieli to survive. So eventually she sought another profession and began working in various inns, never staying very long, going from village to village. But it was not her calling, her knives kept calling out to her and after a particularly soft winter, she took up her weapons and formed a group of warriors called the Crescent Moon.
While initially looked down upon because of its many female warriors, the Crescent Moon soon made name when they won two important battles: the battle of Yusci, which annexed the formerly independent city to Terra and the battle of Cilthrim, fought after the city was taken by a radical group of Gaeans. Since those two battles, the band of warriors was seen as supporting Terra.
Despite continuing to lead the Crescent Moon, Mieli frequently disappears for unknown reasons and sometimes for prolonged periods of time. Currently, she is still away from the band, but a messenger has been sent from the king of Terra: he wants to take up the Crescent Moon into Terra's growing army as an elite commando force.
Avatar: Nyx, Goddess of Night/Darkness/Shadow
Weapon(s): A plethora of knives, daggers and a bow made from highly flexible nearly pitch-black wood. Her bow is a highly valued possession, as such a good bow is very rare to come across.
Besides the bow, she has one other highly valued weapon, a double-edged dagger, crafted with a particularly detailed and beautiful etching of a crescent moon, given to her by her fellow warriors after the battle of Yusci.
Other: It is rumored she kills any man that tries to hit on her.
It is also rumored that entire armies of Gaea run when they see she is in the opposing army.
Mielikki: Finnish Myth name of a goddess of forests and healing, whose symbol is the unicorn. The name was derived from the word mieli which can have many meanings (desire, feeling, mind, mood, heart, pleasure), but it's central meaning is mind.
Mieli is currently unaware of her destiny and powers.
The only negative point about this character is that she does not have an Eeyore-plushie =P
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Jul 13, 08 at 2:52am ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
Name: Kiran Ristaavi
Birth place: Razgarde
Appearance: Kiran is a deadly beautiful young women. Her perfect features are a gift from the Gods directly... It is said that men are in touble when they woo over her. She has just below shoulder length midnight black hair. Hair that is purely natural, with a rich and wonderful texture. Her eyes are an alluring, bright, yet mysteriously dark green color. Which changes in color depth, with her mood. Her perfect smile, shows her beauty, yet shows her personality of being caring, yet dangerous. Even with just a smirk, who knows what she is thinking. Her flawless fairly tanned skin, radiants her shape. Which she stands at about 5'5, and her figure is perfect. She has a slight accent and she hides but a single scar from her past. On her right side...
Bio: Kiran grew up in a fairly rich manor with her parents and older brother. Her appearance may seem perfect but her past is not. Her father, a man in the court of Razgarde. When her brother turned the age of 20, he went off to train to become a swordsman. That the result of their mother's slaying. Her brother is 4 years older than she is. When Kiran was just 16, a mysterious man came to the manor. And sought havoc on her family. The murerer took her mother, as her father and brother tried fighting him off. Kiran instead grabbed log poker from the fireplace, and challenged the attacker. Instead the attacker was able to unarm Kiran, he drew out a single dagger, and grabbed her, then slashed at her right side. Which that hasty move of Kiran's, the murderer then took her mother's life right before her eyes, and then vanished without a trace. There was no trace of who he was except a name, her father yelled and screamed afterwards. "Christov! Christov, I will kill you!" Since then Kiran has stayed with her father at the manor, but has taken liking to weapons and magic. She has done studying on it, and her father thinks, it is a result from the incident 3 years ago.
Weapon(s): Wind shaft
Link to previous RP/work: I have alot of those....
Edit: Jul 12, 08
Wouldn't you love to love her?
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Jul 14, 08 at 3:24am ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
Name: Ferrina Glenwell
Birth place: Fasciliates
Appearance: Ferrina is a young woman gifted with grace and beauty. She stands at 5'2 and weighs about 123lbs, giving her a rather slim figure. Her dark brown hair falls in light curls past her shoulders and her bangs just barely tickle her large, green eyes which emphasize her rosebud mouth.
Bio: Ferrina and her twin sister Raven are the youngest of the three children of the royal family of Gaea. As a result, they of course received education, but a different sort than that of their older brother and heir to the Gaean throne, Ka'enn. Despite this, Ferrina often sits in on and helps her older brother with his lessons, and as such, knows much of politics and the world. When not taking lessons with Ka'enn, Ferrina plays with her sister, Raven, and the two exchange the lessons they learn from Ka'enn that day. It was through Raven's (misguided) direction that Ferrina learned some forms of the staff and stave.
Weapon(s): A simple wooden stave
Name: Raven Glenwell
Birth place: Fasciliates
Appearance: Raven is a bit taller than her sister, standing at 5'4 and weighing 134lbs. Also in contrast to Ferrina, Raven's hair is as black as her namesake and straight and lustrous, reaching to her shoulders. Like her sister, however, Raven's eyes are an alluring green.
Bio: Raven and her twin sister Ferrina are the youngest of the three children of the royal family of Gaea. As a result, they of course received education, but a different sort than that of their older brother and heir to the Gaean throne, Ka'enn. Unlike Ferrina, who chose to help her brother with his studies, Raven took part in his martial arts and weapons training, and as such, tends to be faster to jump to violence than her sister. Through their almost daily exchange of lessons, Raven has learned some of what Ferrina studies with Ka'enn in addition to her own education.
Weapon(s): Raven favors light short swords and bows, though she is proficient in all weapons.
*Because Ferrina and Raven were conceived and born at the same time, they both received a portion of Flora's powers.
Birth place: Sorenheim
Appearance: Lucifer is a very charismatic individual who is 5'10 and very muscular. His black hair is of middle length, falling short at his neck while his bangs hang just above his icy blue eyes. Scars from his various rages and battles can be found all over his chest and back. He tends to dress in black most of the time, but will occasionally wear red.
Bio: Lucifer, though that is not his birth name, is the second son of the Terran royal family. As a child, Lucifer had very violent flashes in which he went into a rage and because of this, he was given special care and went through various exercises to learn to keep himself calm. Despite this, the rages continued and Lucifer was disowned by his family at the age of 15 because of it. It was at this point that he took the name Lucifer for himself and began to gather the rebel groups of Terra under one flag. He now leads the radical Terran assaults on the Gaeans as a show of loyalty to his country, Terra, but not to his family, who cast him away. In the four years since being disowned, Lucifer has managed to improve his control over his rages, but they still happen often and the violence of them has lessened little.
Weapon(s): A hand-and-a-half sword and multiple daggers hidden all over his person, though he is skilled with bows as well.
OOC: Well, guys, let's get this show on the road!
I know some of you are waiting for me to actually post a bit of story, but it'll have to wait till tomorrow. I err...got side-tracked today and...watched the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy. xD
Anyone who wants to write a post (and post it, Rust. ), however, may do so.
Mod Edit: Jul 13, 08 by Ishilar
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Jul 14, 08 at 3:42am ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
We can't all be perfect creatures. Life simply does not allow us to be who we want to be. Society, rules, laws and interaction all render personality obsolete. The majority of the populace grows up the same way: a mother and a father, perhaps a brother, all with a school and church. What happens if people deviate from this? Or perhaps even reject it completely? An outcast, that's all people like me are, taciturn. Try making an honest living in this day and age when you tell people that you don't even worship.
A sigh escaped the thoughtful man's lips. The small city of Lorma was the same as any other small city or town: predictable. It has its fair share of crime, but absolutely nothing that despicable. Unlike the city of Fasciliates or Sorenheim, where a guy like him could keep to his own and no one would mind. He was currently on his own version of a pilgrimage to the former of the two cities. There he would be able to live a quiet life in the noisy city. He didn't particularly dislike any of the other cities, to be honest, but he hated how those who lived in them wanted to speak to him constantly. Gossip and more gossip, some about him and some about their neighbor's wife. It grows tiring after awhile not to mention that it is in no way worthwhile.
A quiet man can be so only if he chooses the right place to live. In a big city, someone such as me can be misplaced quite easily. A stroke of wisdom if anything; why would you look for an imperfect emerald in a pile of finely cut jewels? Live at the outskirts where nobody cares about whom you are or what you do. No prim and proper person would stray away from their fine city just for a chance to speak to one who's down and out. Common sense prevails once again.
The man walked through the city, his thoughts spoken to none but himself. Hands were pocketed, feet where shuffling against the ground rather than being lifted, eyes watched the dirt road in front of him. His entire being radiated the fact that no, he would not like to talk. This was never enough for the friendly people of Lorma though, as he had found out. He first came to the city in the morning to gather supplies and rest for a few hours. Little did he know, this city was small enough for everyone to know everyone. As soon as some of the more talkative members of society saw him walking, they came up to introduce themselves only to be greeted by one who lent no voice or ear.
A typical human has the need to be known, to speak and to listen. We have a need for others who are like us, but is this true for everyone? What is it about solitude that frightens the social butterflies of our time? I find silence to be more peaceful than talk; talk is tiring for the mind. You won't find yourself at your best if you waste precious energy on petty interactions that won't mean a thing at the end of the day. If only people are smart enough to realize this, then perhaps more will be done. The majority is lazy as individuals. Either lazy or corrupt, power is another thing humanity has a problem with.
As he approached the outskirts of the town, the sounds of a pleading man rose from the forest before him. He did his best to keep his eyes to the ground. He was a man who noticed everything yet saw nothing. It made life easy for him. He continued walking, hands safe in his pocket in order to keep the assailant from getting any wrong ideas if he was spotted. Finally, as the pleas got louder, he lifted his head just enough to see what was going on. A man, no, a teenage boy, was pushed against a tree as a bigger man went through his belongings. He was being mugged! Eyes returned to the ground and he continued walking.
Greed and lust and power, the triad of the corrupt; people will do everything in their power to gain more of it. Some have the power to do so, some don't. It's all a matter of perspective, really. Then again, you have those who want to protect, but isn't that just another way to the top? Gain the love, trust and respect of the ones around you and you've got power. Respect, that's something I can go for. But there aren't many people out there who are worthy of respect now-a-days; that includes myself if I want to be honest with myself. I can be honest with myself, if I can't be honest to the one who matters most in my life then how can I lead a life that's not full of loathing?
The man reached a river. Wooden boards held together by stiff nails reached over the mass of flowing liquid. To some it was just a convenience, but to him it was heaven sent to get him away from this nosy town. At least, that's what it first appeared to have been. Halfway across the bridge, the man ran into another, bigger man. Trying to get around without so much as an apology, he found both sides of this man to be blocked by men of equal size. The three men took the span of the bridge with their bulk. Finally looking up away from his feet, he noticed that the men were all armed. Bandits.
"Well hello there, tiny man," the lead man said. He had a big grin on his face, but he was met with a mask of hollowness from the thoughtful man. Getting no response, he continued, "You have to pay a toll to cross-"
Before he finished speaking, a pocketed hand removed itself, showing many gold coins. He thrusted it into the hands of the lead bandit and attempted to walk around once more, only to be stopped again. "You need ta pay more than that; we want all that ya got. You don't want any problems, so we won't hurt'cha, but ya gotta pay the rest of the way."
Eyes seemingly hollowed lifted to meet the bandit's life-filled ones. Reaching back into his pocket, he emptied it out onto the bridge, listening to them hit the wood boards, some rolling and some bouncing. No one from the trio bent down to pick them up; instead the same one who talked before looked down at the coins. The lead bandit reached for the leather whip at the thoughtful man's belt, only to have his wrist grabbed by the owner. Hollowed eyes once more met the bandit's own before looking away towards the water and shaking his head slowly. Anger inside the bandit's eyes flared for just a moment before a somewhat peaceful look crossed his features.
"Right," he spoke, "It wouldn't due to steal all of it from ya." With a gesture from the talker, the three men moved aside to allow the smaller man to pass. He did so without hesitation, but he already knew what he had to do. His journey would be for naught if he had no money. As he walked by, he snatched the money bag from the lead bandit's waist and ran off as quick as a shot. He was off the bridge and almost into the forest by the time their furious shouts reached his ears. He was a good distance away by now, and the forest would only aid his escape.
The world is not a friendly place; there aren't any "heroes" when you need them, no knight in shining armor. Even if it is in need of heroes, Cardova Orenzio isn't one of them
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Jul 14, 08 at 5:27am ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
"Kiran... You mean Sir Ristaavi's daughter? Ahhh... Yes I know all to well who she is..." The fortune teller told a traveler. In the town before the manor, a man appeared. Dressed in dark blue garmets, with his broadsword at his side, asked about Kiran. The man's facial appearance, however was guarded by the hood of his cloak. His light voice, then said "tell me more." The fortune teller, whose light brown curly hair, moved with her head as she closed in. Said in an eerie distant voice.
"Kiran, daughter to Evan and the belated Rhian. I tell you now sir, if you go looking for her, you are in for trouble." The man's eyes lingered then sparked at interest "what do you mean?" The fortune teller gave a small laugh and then said "I, the witch, Syrla, was the one who saw her future, and placed a spell upon her." Then in snapping her fingers together, her appearance had changed to an elder lady, with long braided gray hair. Wrinkled face, long shrews fingers, and a croaky voice. "You-your..." The with smiled and said "listen I shall tell all."
"Kiran is protected by me, a spell I gave her, she knows not of it. A spell that will make her into was she is destined for." The man coughed upon hearing those words. "And what is that?" The witch stared into his eyes "all shall see when her time comes. The men who come to her out of lust, are hurt, are they not?" The man scoffed and said "of what?" But they both did know that answer. "Of her beauty... But she in for trouble... When she learns of what is to become of her, there are two men she will cross paths with." The man's head jolted a bit, then he gave his full attention to the witch "huh?" The witch ignored that and went on "one of the men, is the one, whom she will serve justice too. She seeks to find this man, and remind him of the life he took away from her. Her mother." The man's eyes flared when she said that, the witch stared into them. "The other, is... A man. Whom will try and kill her time and time again. The man though, will soon she her for what she truly is, the will be brought together, lovingly... At first he almost kills her, but then after admitting his love, he will kill all who harms her. This man will be the one to change her."
The door quickly opened, and the bell ringed, the man jumped into position, and the witch smiled and said "I see she has arrived." The man slowly smiled, and then footstep were heard coming closer. Then the person masked in dark maroon robes and cloaks, soon became unmasked.
"I am here. You wished to see me?" Kiran's dreamy voice sounded. The man stood straight up, and bowed down to her. Kiran's eyes lowered, and glared. "You wished for my audience? Sir." This time her voice was straight-forward. The man came closer and spoke "yes milady. I wish to see you, about becoming your guard." Kiran looked at him with wide eyes, "sit, we shall talk."
The man took off his cloak, and revealed himself at last. He has handsome features, with untamed short dark brown hair. Dark blue, eyes and a very unknowing expression. He looked familiar to Kiran, but she wasn't sure how. "I am Christopher Reim. I am hoping to be your guard." Kiran smiled small and said "pleased to meet you. But might I ask. What made you answer?"
Christopher looked over her features, and smiled lightly, Kiran stared right through him. His smile faded a bit. "I am well known for my swordsmanship skills. Any who shall attack you, shall meet my sword instead. But what made me answer..." Kiran looked a his sword and raised an eye brow "Christopher I know many who are good with a sword, but why is it you take interest in this task?" Christopher's eyes sparked deceit, and then said "I had a dream about you. You were in great peril, yet someone in my dream told me it was my destiny to aid you." Kiran looked sideways upon hearing that, then took in a deep breath. She stared at him for minutes, then smiled and said "well if it your destiny, then any man who dares attacks me, shall be killed?" Christopher slowly smiled at her and nodded, to which Kiran nodded back. "Come now. I will show you where you are to stay."
Edit: Jul 14, 08
Wouldn't you love to love her?
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Jul 14, 08 at 2:30pm ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
Pale orange rays of the setting sun penetrated the scarce green foliage of the scattered trees in the forest before painting the young face of an slightly less young girl. Her puffy wild black hair seemed to take away from the illumination, absorbing any stray light, thus darkening the scene. Her clothing appeared to have the same effect but in a different way, instead of taking away from the light, it emitted a pulsing aura of darkness. The only thing that spread light in this caliginous scene was the girl's bloodthirsty dagger, decorated with the image of a crescent moon on the double-edged blade near the guard. It matched the shape of girl's earrings perfectly, down to the detail of a small black gemstone in the middle of the moon's inner shape. The girl didn't smile, the grim look in her obscure eyes betrayed the situation she was in.
Ten man-sized steps before the short child-like girl stood a dirty, foul smelling scumbag. Even the bird in this small piece of woods had fled his nauseating stench, seeking safety in the skies above, between the vultures that knew a dead sack of meat would soon serve to feed them. They never were impatient creatures, the vultures. They would wait until the human fighting was done before they drove their beaks into the skin of their nutrition. Never did they interfere with the battle itself, not even when it meant missing an opportunity for much needed sustenance. That was alright with her, she didn't need a hungry bird to solve her pestiferous problem. Well, small annoyance rather than a pestiferous problem, really.
Finally, the bulky bald man raised his oversized sword and started a dash toward the girl. She was only half the person he was but she didn't even flinch as the uncontrollable mass festinated toward her. It even looked like her impending doom was accelerating as it approached. When it was almost close enough to strike at her lean body, the brute raised his hefty weapon, readying himself to deal a single fatal blow to an easy target. But before the sword could descend once again, the girl had moved and the handle of her dagger protruded from the man's stomach as he writhed in the dry dirt that formed the forest floor. The agony that formed his struggle for death was not entirely unintentional. The girl lacked the height to effectively attack the fiend's neck, so she had opted to open up his stomach, allowing him to be consumed by his own overconfident self. It was a tardy means to kill an adversary, yet a very effective one.
When the corpulent body finally became a lifeless inert corpse, the girl stepped over and withdrew her treasured dagger from the reeking gut before her. She wiped it on his now blood soaked shirt, though it would need further cleaning when she got to camp. But that was something for one of the fresh newbies. That was part of the pleasure of being the leader of a group of warriors, you had a bunch of people under you who obeyed your every command. Heck, even others obeyed your sometimes ridiculous commands simply because they feared what you might otherwise do. Although her top ranking warriors simply slid her commands down the line until it was up to one of the initiates to do it. Unless of course, she made a specific command that the one she told it to had to do it.
Just thinking of her precious Crescent Moon blotted out the memory of her recent violent ordeal. Not that it really mattered, she was used to the bloodshed since she was very little. She had been the spoils of war from more than one battle and she had brought home spoils herself, although hers were never living breathing beings. She had been trained to kill for four years before she was first sent out and she had killed dozens to survive when she had had nothing. Things were different now, her kills were more refined and purposeful now, those who died usually deserved it or they were voluntarily in a position where they could expect to die. Yet the deaths she caused still felt the same to her. She didn't care, she didn't know those people, they were just in her way or they were just a job. Either way, they died without a second thought.
Slowly the trees around her spread out even further and the forest gradually became a field filled with tall grasses and a myriad of flowers she didn't know. That wasn't very difficult, considering she never had an education in anything but servitude and combat. She knew very little of plants and trees, only just enough to know how to differentiate between something edible and something that would kill you if you touched or ate. The terrain would soon shift downward, effectively hiding anything positioned behind that line. That was where she had left her encampment nine days earlier. It was unlikely that they were still there, but they would always leave clue as to where they were going, a clue only their leader could understand. And if not, she could always just follow their trail. Although it would be masked, it was impossible to hide the trail that over a hundred and fifty people left behind. At least close enough to impossible.
But as she approached the line where the slope of the landscape changed, the peaks of the highest tents started to reveal themselves. The wooden frames and cloth peaks stood out in the landscape like rainclouds stood out against a clear sky, if the ridge had not been there, she would've see them from a thousand steps away, probably even further than that. Well, at least she wouldn't have to go looking for them, that was a plus that didn't happen often. She could actually count the times of not looking for them on one hand.
Before she could see anyone walking around in the camp, she already noticed two guards following her movements from their distant hidden locations. They were more than stealthily enough though, it was only because she knew they were there and how they hid that she could find them. She was the one who had thought them to hide and so far, none of her students had surpassed her. She was unsure whether that was a good thing or not. Afterall, having better stealthing skills would certainly benefit the group, yet if she was no longer the best, how could she keep her position as leader of the band. It seemed improbable that anyone would claim her position now, they all seemed to worship her, but that was no guarantee they would keep doing so if she was no longer better than all of them. Still, she could only deal with that when that time came, there was no point in worrying about it at this time.
Finally, when she was close enough to the camp to see the movement between the tents, she was approached by a couple of initiates she had not yet met. They had to be brand new. They were barely old enough to belong in such a camp as theirs, to be confronted with the hard reality of life and death. However, she had declared that anyone who wanted to be trained would be trained, at the risk of their own life. That scared off most little girls, death was something that frightened most people, not just little girls. It made all the difference when their sacrifice could mean life for their family and off-spring, such as in a war, but when even training could bring death, well that was just too risky for most. Though not for all of them, apparently.
When the duo of younglings was within reach, she threw her bloodied knife over to the left one of the two girls and barked the command 'clean it'. The girl stood baffled at first, not sure whether she needed to obey this command from a complete stranger. Not taking any chances, the girl did disappear quickly after her two seconds of hesitation, taking the dagger with her in both hands. The other girl bowed to her before speaking, "please, follow me." No explanation or introduction followed, that was good, she didn't want her followers to divulge any information to anyone they did not know. As they made their way through the camp, whispers could be heard from all around her. While she couldn't make out what was said with most of them, she did hear "the mother commander is back" and "the matriarch has returned" more than once. And she was pretty sure the girl had heard too, since she tensed up, occasionally glancing back at the person following her.
Finally, the girl stopped at the command tent and opened one of the loose flaps so she could enter, after which she bowed and left. The inside of the tent was rather sober, a simple desk stood in the middle, a burner off to the side between the desk and the entrance, and a carpet beneath the both, to suppress the plants and show that this was the command tent. All in all, it was mostly functional.
"So. Met the two newbies?" A woman sitting behind the wooden desk asked.
"I did. I know I said to accept anyone who wanted, Henna, but these really are quite young." She responded to her second in command.
"I know, Mieli, but it is the rule. Besides, they learn quickly, they'll make good warriors very quickly." Henna explained to her leader.
"So, tell me. Why is the Crescent Moon still here? It doesn't happen often we remain in the same place for so long?" Especially not without their leader, the Crescent Moon was on the move most of the time, unless they were hired by an army, but it had been a while since that had last happened.
"We were waiting for you. We received an request from the king himself." Mieli's right hand seemed rather casual about it.
"Oh?" It was a surprise to Mieli, so she couldn't blame Henna for how she told the news. What could the ruler of Terra possibly want?
"He wants to meet with you."
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Jul 17, 08 at 8:25pm ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
OMG HE STILL ISN'T POSTING YET!
Yeah, yeah. That's right. But I personally guarantee a post within the next 3 hours give or take. I've just been especially busy with work and been coming home and having to watch my sister while her parents were out, but that ends today, so...=D
There is a point to this message, however (besides further angering those who are getting impatient with my lack of post. xD)
Since it doesn't look like we'll be getting too many more participants, anyone wishing to play as a god and that god's respective messenger may do so.
Just a few notes about messengers:
1. What are they?
-Messengers are more or less the same thing as the gods except they only have heightened physical powers and little to no control over their respective element unlike their god.
2. Messengers, unlike the Avatars for the gods, do not necessarily have to be human (though they can be)
3. Messengers are like the guardians of the gods. They know where their respective deity is at all times and have a faint idea of their condition and emotions.
For anyone who's read the Wheel of Time (Err...Aulis and...yeah...), it's the same concept as that of Aes Sedai and Warders.
4. Should a God choose to do so, they can channel pain they feel to their Messengers (though the wounds themselves remain), but messengers cannot channel pain to their deity.
...That's about it. Anyone wanting to play a messenger, send me a completed character sheet.
If not, they'll just become NPCs.
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Jul 17, 08 at 10:50pm ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
A small, quaint village lay nestled in a valley along the border between Gaea and Terra: Nazcal. It was late afternoon; the sun would be setting soon. Activity buzzed in Nazcal; mothers scooped up their children, farmers were herding their horses and sheep away for the night, and merchants were closing their shops. Just outside of Nazcal, a large number of men gathered in the oncoming darkness mounted on horses. At their head was a tall man with hair as black as the night and cool, calculating blue eyes mounted on a powerful black stallion: Lucifer. At his feet was the corpse of a Nazcalan scout. Lucifer turned to the gathered soldiers behind him, "Hanar, when we raid Nazcal, you will take a small detachment and circle around the village, cutting off escape. The rest of you, kill whatever moves. Should you wish, you may spare the women and have them as slaves or whores. The men and children, we have no use for."
A nearby helmeted soldier, presumably Hanar, nodded and indicated a small company of soldiers to gather around him. Lucifer glanced at the rest of his men, nearly one hundred and fifty soldiers.
Lucifer spurred his stallion toward Nazcal and was followed by his small army. They thundered down the slopes, Hanar and thirty other soldiers split off from Lucifer's force and rode around the village while Lucifer descended upon Nazcal, hand-and-a-half sword flashing as he decapitated the first man he came across. From there it was a slaughter. The villagers of Nazcal, caught unaware, offered little resistance. Lucifer's blade was quickly dyed red as he thrust it into the heart of another poorly armed farmer. The commander of the Terran radicals pressed on, allowing those behind him to hack apart what remained of the resistance and charged through Nazcal, herding the inhabitants toward the west exist where Hanar waited. The massacre continued when the screaming peasants met with Hanar's blockade and Lucifer's main force. In a matter of moments, Nazcal was taken.
As Lucifer guided his stallion through the blood-spattered houses of Nazcal, he came across two young boys, not far into their adolescent years, confronted by his own soldiers.
"Wait," he commanded as he walked through the parted crowds of Terran radicals, "You two, you know the way to the next town, yes?"
What looked to be the older boy, a dark-haired youth with tear-streaked brown eyes nodded.
"Go," Lucifer told him, "find someone to take you in and feed you."
The boy looked on the verge of saying something, but swallowed and began to walk away. When he was almost out of sight, he turned, "What about my brother?" he cried.
Lucifer regarded the boy silently before nodding, "Very well. Spare them both."
The smaller boy flashed a small, grateful smile at Lucifer before running to join his older brother.
"Run along," Lucifer told them and watched as they left the village gates. As the two ran into the sunset, Lucifer caught the whiz of an arrow out of the corner of his eye. It sped past him, however, and struck the younger of the two brothers in the back, crumpling him instantly. The hair-raising shriek of the older brother could be heard even to those soldiers camped at the other end of Nazcal.
"Begging your pardon, my Lord Lucifer, but..." the soldier who had shot the arrow smirked, "It only takes one to deliver a message. Am I right?"
Lucifer glared at the soldier before, with a slight flick of his wrist, a dagger flew from his hand and struck the soldier's neck. The soldier's eyes widened as his fingers scrabbled along the dagger's hilt before his legs gave out and he fell, joining the corpses of the Nazcalan villagers.
"I ordered that both were to be spared. I expect my orders to be obeyed," Lucifer told the corpse coldly, "We are not thieving bandit scum nor honorless curs. We are soldiers of Terra whether they accept us or not and we have our honor and dignity."
Lucifer glared at the last remains of the setting sun: a blazing red ball about to be engulfed by the purple-black darkness of the night sky; darkness that was reflected in the man's light blue eyes. A light breeze gently brushed against his ink-black hair, but it was not enough to blow away the intoxicating and overwhelming scent of blood. Around Lucifer stood his soldiers. Not Gaean soldiers nor Terran soldiers: his soldiers. Scattered around them were the corpses of the Gaean peasantry, all violently riddled with arrows, some armless or headless where they had met the bite of swords. The Terran radicals were celebrating their successful raid. Drinks were being flung around haphazardly, food was taken from what houses still stood, and captured Gaean women were attending to the mens' pleasures, and yet Lucifer still glared. His eyes traveled along the rapidly darkening horizon toward Fasciliates, the Gaean Capital where the royal family resided. A mere five days from the border between Gaea and Terra. Three days from where he was camped.
"Ah, a drink, my lord?" Lucifer tore his eyes away from Fasciliates to rest them on a scrawny blond-haired man offering him a cup.
"No," Lucifer responded, "I have nothing to celebrate. This raid, while successful, is but a small drop in the sea. We have much to do and accomplish."
"Ah, surely that is no reason not to celebrate with the rest of us?" the soldier pressed.
"I said no," Lucifer said dangerously, then visibly calmed himself, "Spread the word. We are leaving at dawn. Sober or not."
"I mean no disrespect, my lord, but where are we going now? Back to Terra?" the soldier asked.
"No," Lucifer's gaze returned to Fasciliates, "We are going to the capital. We are going to kill the daughters of his Majesty and Lord of the Earth, King Gareth Glenwell."
"Ah...ahahaha..." the soldier laughed nervously, "Are you serious? The royal family? We won't even get inside the city without suspicion! You are mad, Lord Lucifer!"
"Did I ask you for your opinion!?" Lucifer roared suddenly as his hand closed around the soldier's neck, "I am the leader of this army! Now do as I say!"
"You are mad..." the wide-eyed soldier whispered, hands scrabbling against Lucifer's herculean strength. Lucifer's eyes narrowed as his grip tightened around the soldier's neck, tightening more and more until the poor man went limp in Lucifer's grip. Lucifer tossed him aside and looked at the camp. It had fallen silent at the display.
"Well?" Lucifer repeated, "You all heard me. We leave at dawn for Fasciliates, but we leave in groups. Each group will approach the city separately and across wide time intervals. There will be no suspicion. We will sneak an army into Fasciliates." Lucifer fell silent afterward and returned to staring in the direction of the Gaean capital. Activity slowly began once more.
"Is he mad...?" was the sentence uttered throughout the camp.
The veterans of the army only laughed, "Not quite," they reassurred the newbies gathered around them, "You guys haven't been around Lord Lucifer long, eh? Well, people are beginning to say that Lord Lucifer is a demon. Wounds that would kill a man leave him abed for a mere two or three days. I've been here since the beginning. Trust me, Lucifer has had more wounds that should have been fatal than any other man I've ever known. No one gets lucky as often as he does. Lord Lucifer is invincible, or so that's the talk recently. Some are even calling him a god. 'Course, none of that's true. But..." a pause and then a frown, "Lord Lucifer seems to be taking the rumors to his head. An assault on the palace, no matter how well-planned...will not go well."
Gareth Glenwell, Lord of Gaea and father of Ka'enn, Ferrina, and Raven, crumpled the message in his hands. He, his wife, the High Lady and Queen of Gaea, Ceres Glenwell, and their children: the royal family of Gaea, sat in a large, luxurious room that soaked in the bright sunlight outside through the enormous windows spread throughout the room. An ornate painting depicting the Goddess Flora clothed in vines and her loyal servant Cybele surrounded by various trees bearing seeds of life spanned the length of the floor. Various tapestries around the room showed similar scenes of the Mother of Gaea.
"A plague on those Terran curs!" the king roared as he threw the message into the fire, "My people are being slaughtered along the border! Were we not having similar problems with Gaean rebels, I would think that the Terran king is lying about being unable to control his people any more."
"And yet," Ka'enn spoke, "if we mobilize our army to protect the border, Terra will perceive it as an act of agression. Even if they don't, the radicals will convince them that it is so. Bloody war will reign."
Gareth nodded, "Aye, you speak the truth, my son."
"Father, our people need our aid. We must find some way to give it without provoking Terra," Ferrina pressed.
"What would you have me do!?" Gareth demanded, throwing up his hands, "We can only continue negotiating with Terra."
"That isn't working," Raven jumped in, "Ka'enn says the talks are disastrous. Neither side trusts one another, no? Offer Lord Fari recompense for whatever damage our army causes in dealing with the radicals."
"And empty the coffers!?" Gareth looked aghast, "Have you no idea how much damage would result from quelling rebellion on both sides?"
"Is the price more than that of losing more of our people every day?" Ka'enn asked quietly, "With all due respect, father, I agree with Raven and Ferrina."
Raven and Ferrina flashed smiles at their brother who grinned back at them.
"It isn't so simple!" Gareth returned, "You two do not understand this situation because you do not have the training! Ka'enn's reasoning is clouded by love for you two!"
The room fell silent. Ferrina looked hurt, but Raven puffed up indignantly.
"If that is what you believe, father, then Ferrina and I take our leave so that you, Ka'enn, and mother may discuss this situation with clear minds." She said stonily as she took her sister's hand and led her out of the room.
"You are being rash, dear," Ceres said after a moment.
Gareth sank into a chair wearily, "I know," he sighed, "This whole situation has left me very stressed. It is I who cannot think clearly. We must go and meet Fari once more in three days in Orcana. If we cannot accomplish anything at that conference, I fear I will have no choice but to mobilize the army and risk beginning a war..."
OOC: Thar. 2.5 hours. Pretty close guess.
(I was actually expecting 4-5. xD)
My posts are always worth the wait, though.
At any rate, at some point, I'll be providing a
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Jul 20, 08 at 3:08pm ^re: Avatar ~ [PM] [M]
OOC: I apologize to all for my lack of posting. I've been camping for a week now, and just got home yesterday at around 10 am, and was tired enough I went straight to sleep. Once again, I apologize.
K'iann kicked up some loose dirt as he shuffled his feet with a slight limp in his left leg, as it was bleeding heavily, although luckily it hadn't hit an artery. He had been heading to Razgarde for a few days now. He been hearing rumors hear and there about small rebellion popping up and here and there, only to be put back down by the militia, but the damage was already done. The citizens were to see the rebels point of view and side with them. The situation was deteriorating rather fast. By the time Ki'ann had reached the stone gates of Razgarde, the bleeding in his leg had stopped. He was about to check on it when the guards shot when they sighted him.
Great, I was hoping to get in without being bothered by these idiots.
A rather small man came out to greet them. After a few seconds Ki'ann could divulge that the man was rather green.
"The name's Trevor," said the man standing in front of him.
"Where you from?"
"Orcana," said K'iann,"but recently I've been moving around long enough I haven't had time to call anyplace home."
By now the soldier had realized that K'iann was just a simple traveler, so he let him on his way.
As he entered the city, he remembered how much he hated cities. He preferred a shelter of his own make in the wilderness then most of these bandit-infested taverns. He chose a tavern that looked somewhat civilized and entered the establishment wearily. He rented a room from a rather queer man named Christopher, and walked up mahogany stairs to a small room, that consisted of only a dresser, a small window, and a bed. He sighed and threw he stuff on the bed, where he contemplated his next move.
I'm too old for this
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