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Post by Brownie on Jan 4, 2022 0:29:24 GMT -5
[[ Hawkeyes258 Make up as many gods and legends as you please! And gods can be real here; I made up Kor for my paladin order, and so far it has talked to people in dreams but idk yet if it has a physical form. I bet gods totally could here! Also I know you've put things on the map, but I did want to tell ya that there's a scale bar in the bottom right. If you're intending for both your groups to have really long trips, that's totally cool and you can embark on those ventures, but right now your group is over 600mi away from where ya put the Hall on the map. ]] |
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Post by Brownie on Jan 4, 2022 20:26:13 GMT -5
- - - I like the slowed down parts better. I think I'll get better at combat, but for now calm scenes are where I'll sit. Why are Autumn's scenes always the longest? I do like writing her (I think her and Zeph are easily my favorites) but still. 1.6k is a lot for a walking scene lmao
Also I Am Not Conlanging. I'm just mentioning ancient languages that will Not be Built. (I promise)
Tho mossecho if you have a name for a potential root dialect between your conlangs I can add it to the list as an easter egg ;)
tl;dr: Autumn heals. The night passes and they begin the trek into the ruin for real. They talk about Autumn's past and language experience. - - - Autumn Ménxictu . Dead Languages
It turned out Lavender knew no healing magics. "I could conjure heat to cauterize it," he offered, to which Autumn politely declined. The Divine did, however, have a salve that within minutes numbed the puncture in her side, and within the hour itched furiously. "It's healing quickly," Lavender explained, placing a hand absently over hers and pulling it away as she tried to get at the bandage to scratch at it. "Uncomfortable, but it'll be over soon."
It was as Lavender promised and by the time they were done packing up camp, she peeked under the bandage to find her skin pink and smooth. "Wow, that's good stuff," Autumn commented, peeling off the bandage and wetting the other side with water from her canteen to wash the blood from her healed stomach. She hissed as the cold water touched the sensitive, new skin, then used the damp cloth to wipe the salve from her arm where it had worked to ease the burn. It still looked angry and tingled when she touched it, the nerves still raw, but it felt more like a sunburn now which was tolerable.
"I don't have much of the salve left," Lavender warned, tucking braided silvered hair behind his ear as he closed the healing cream's wooden box and replaced it in his pack. "I can make more, with the right ingredients, but Wolf's Tear doesn't flower this far north."
Lavender was busy repacking his pack. He had shoved the shorn crystal fragments from the construct into the bag as well as the shard of metal from her side and a few other samples he had pried from the clockwork. He had been put out that they couldn't lug the creature with them into the ruin for further study; he had even offered to carry the thing, since Autumn refused after seeing its leg twitch as it began to regain pressure in its core, but it was denser than its size suggested and he could barely lift it let alone carry it.
"So," the Divine said after shouldering his pack. They started down the pipe with only one of his conjured lights bobbing overhead, casting a spotlight down on them in a way that it felt like they weren't making any progress at all, with no shadows from the overhead light and the same stretch of pipe around them at every footfall. The only difference was the circle of daylight behind them, which began large and gradually shrunk as they went deeper into the mountain. "I heard you were good with dead languages."
He had tried to bring the subject up on the way here, but clinging to the side of the mountain with sheer drops all around, tendrils of wind buffeting past, and her own exhaustion from the climb didn't make for easy conversation. This path was ominous for its own reasons, but at least the hike itself was easy. Autumn shrugged. "I tried to find the orb." She snorted. "Like all kids do, I suppose."
"And everyone else."
She shrugged. "I gave up. It's lost, if it even exists. Besides, all the information we know is out there. If someone is going to find it, they'd be much smarter and stubboner than me."
Lavender was quiet for a little time. He had a brooding face, she noticed, when he wanted to argue something but didn't. His eyes darkened and his jaw set in a way that never quite reached his expression, but felt tense all the same. Autumn almost wished he would just spit it out, but the moment passed and he pulled the subject back on track. "What languages did you study?"
"You asked me here and didn't know that?" Autumn asked, so incredulous that she stopped in her tracks. Lavender took another step before noticing, the light bobbing over his head casting a long shadow along the pipe's curved wall.
He turned and smiled at that, shaking his head. "You're here as an escort, remember? A guard." He nodded his head to the tunnel behind them, gesturing towards the broken construct that would still be twitching there.
Autumn stepped up past him, continuing down the path. She didn't look back at Lavender, but the light moved and so she knew he was following closely behind. "You're the one who killed it."
"Disabled it, yes. And I wouldn't have known that it was steam powered if it didn't attack you."
"Great, so I was just bait?" Even as she snapped, Autumn wasn't really annoyed at Lavender, though she was embarrassed at how useless she was in the fight. All she'd done is get burned, have her spear deflected and then get shot by a shard of metal. She rubbed her side where it had hit, but the skin didn't even itch anymore after Lavender's healing cream did its work.
The Divine caught up to her and grabbed at her arm, but she shrugged him off with a look that edged on a glare and he quickly pulled away. "No. Mordelle put out he was looking for a good soldier for a scholarly mission," he pressed on. "And you came highly recommended."
She scoffed, the plate clanking on her back as she shrugged her shoulders. "Recommended? For what? That I don't snore? That my company wouldn't miss me?"
Lavender put his hands behind his back, squinting up at the light hanging above them as if analyzing the ceiling as they walked. "They said you were honest," he said, to the light above and not really to her. Autumn was going to snap something back, but he shushed her with a chuckle and continued on. "And stubborn, and a good soldier. Good reflex, good intuition, strong as a bull. They also said you had history with ancient texts and that you picked up languages as easily as other people pick up bad habits."
Autumn wasn't used to anyone speaking anything about her, let alone complements --or mostly complements, she wasn't sure how she felt about "stubborn" or "strong as a bull" yet-- so she clamped her jaw and turned her head so Lavender couldn't see the flush of heat that was probably turning her neck red. Not that he was looking, with his eyes firmly above, as if he could intuit how the words would impact her. "They know me well, or at least my good sides," she muttered, which prompted the mental follow up of: wait, who?
Because she certainly hadn't made friends in the Spears. She didn't mesh with her company and had merely been tacked on to her unit after the man in her spot retired to spend time with his newborn child. Autumn got the feeling that they didn't like how she'd applied herself to the Paladins' manual labor portion of their patrols, helping farmers or the other villagers long after the others had stopped for the night to take advantage of the free board and booze that flowed in as payment for their services. She hadn't cared for that, or for dicing with the others, when there was still work to be done and so she quickly found herself stamped as a try hard, goodie two shoes and consequently was outcast. Which she hadn't minded too much, preferring to make friends with the locals as the Paladins roamed from village to village, spreading the justice of Kor and the soldiers' manpower as they went.
Then who in the Spears knew about her quest for the Orb as a youth? Who knew her well enough to not only dig through her past, but also recommend her for this job?
Lavender didn't push the conversation further, letting her sort out her emotions and, more worrying, the knowledge that someone had told Mordelle about her. She thought the embarrassing complements were bad, but not knowing who they came from made her insides squirm.
She decided to put that away for now and tried to distract herself by answering Lavender's first question. "I didn't do any Atmeri," Autumn said, which felt a little awkward with the long pause and sidebar, though she pushed on regardless. She didn't know much about Lavender, but she figured he did like to talk, particularly about academia, since he'd been the one breaking silences. If Autumn was to be his aide or be with the Divine for any length of time for that matter, she should probably work to get to know him too, however difficult it was to make conversation for her sometimes. "Since I was looking for the Orb, I mostly worked with Southern texts. Tixxmi, Ancient Suli, a little dwarvish. Oh, and elvish. Sithesr at least, not Urvaléthesr."
Lavender spoke a line she didn't catch, though she recognized the Ancient Suli rolling of the r's and g's, maybe the word for water? or was it time?
Autumn shook her head emphatically. "No, no, no. First, I'm far from fluent, and second, I've only read the texts, I can't pronounce anything. Hell, I probably wouldn't recognize the words if they weren't in Suli script."
The Divine looked disappointed that he couldn't converse in the centuries-dead language. He messed with his hair, twirling the end of the braid between his fingers. "Well you're in luck," he said brightly, "since all the Atmeri are dead, we'll only have texts! I'm sure you'll pick it up quickly."
She groaned. "More reading. Yay."
Lavender began humming something she didn't recognize, but the Divine carried the tune nicely and the sound echoed down the pipe pleasantly, forming a harmony to the sound that surprised Autumn with its complexity. Lavender, however, didn't seem to notice he was doing anything out of the ordinary and Autumn didn't bring it up, letting the music accompany them as they trekked further into the heart of the mountain. |
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Post by Brownie on Jan 5, 2022 1:54:18 GMT -5
- - - Already 25k on this wowzers that's more than I managed for NaNo. tbf I have five characters to write for here and pantsing / adding as I go really inflates the word count past like, plotted, intentional writing. but still. That's a lot for two weeks.
Also I'm still not EXACTLY sure what I want Jabbar to be up to, not quite yet, so I'm going to cut this off a little early so I can plot some more. And it's already long and I'm tired. Also, it's raining finally! And Lucy is right around the corner still, though they don't know that
--omg I must be more tired than I thought I'm rereading this and it's AWFUL so many run on sentences and doubled adjectives and even forgot to edit the plot out of one paragraph like. ooooof. Re-edited, it should be at least readable now yikes.
tl;dr: Mordelle gets called out of bed when Jabbar snuck in two riders from over the Pass into the Spear's camp. They gather some of Amara's trusted Spears to go and confront him. - - - Mordelle Lover's Pass, Havenhome . Spears of Kor Of course, Jabbar made his move as soon as Mordelle relaxed into a deep sleep. The guard at his door had to shake him awake and he came to groggily, rolling over on his cot until he could see Jasper's panicked face crouched over him, which pulled him fully out of sleep like he'd tossed a bucket of cold water over Mordelle's face. He was blinking the fuzziness from his eyes even as he was shoving boots on his feet, the mechanical motion as automatic a reflex as any a soldier's.
Another figure burst into the tent. "Hurry," Amara hissed, waving at him frantically. He knew it was bad when she was dressed in pants and a thick jacket, without a wig on her head or color over her eyes. Mordelle almost didn't recognize her without the frill and pomp, even her voice was different. The only similarity between the two was her short, plump figure and the familiar tic as she fidgeted her fingers around the canvas tent flap as she waited for him to get his boots tied.
"What's happened?" Mordelle asked as he joined Amara outside. It was dark as Kor's ninth circle out: storm clouds had rolled over the mountains and quickly blotted out the sky, dark as ink, and though they held the rain back for now, the air was electric with potential and tense as a held breath. Mordelle broke out in gooseflesh with a shiver, the hairs on his arms and neck rising in anticipation. For the lightning or for the news, or both.
Amara grabbed his arm and pulled him away from his tent, her boots squelching on the ground. The camp was utterly silent: exhausted soldiers were early to retire and even those with a bit more pep could feel the storm bearing down, about to break, and settled down in the safety of their tents to ride it out. In the heavy silence, Mordelle could hear his own heartbeat and Amara's whispered words were clear. "Two riders, they snuck them in through the road and went straight for the supply."
"Tachinids?" Mordelle growled, trying to keep his voice low and away from any ears that might still be listening through thin canvas as Amara pulled him through the lines of tents towards the road. "I had him figured as a nuisance, but a traitor too?"
"I wouldn't jump so quickly to treason," Amara warned, but her voice was hesitant and it was obvious from her worry that she had the same suspicions.
They crossed camp in silence until they were nearing the road, when a shadow suddenly peeled itself away from a wagon's side. Mordelle reached for the mace at his belt, but darkness quickly dripped away from the figure like candle wax, revealing Taliyah's bold blue skin underneath as the darkness splashed back into her own shadow, which quivered against the ground and remained bold as void. "I am not for hiding, you hear?" she complained immediately, pushing back her hair out of her face with a frown. It was carried by a breeze of its own and twisted and flowed around her torso and waist in a pale, ghostly ribbon.
Amara ignored her grumbling. "Where are they?" she pressed.
"They haven't left the supply. And no, they are unmarked. No Tachinid seals or nothin'. Of course," she said thoughtfully, "they'd be stupid to try and smuggle through with Tachinid emblems. Not that Tachinids are smart, but Jabbar is, I bet. Or thinks he is."
Mordelle looked over Taliyah's head, trying to see the supply, though the wagons were formed in a circle, preventing him from seeing much. There was no movement between the wagons. Jabbar's Spears were still. "How many others do you have watching, Amara?"
"A good half dozen," she said, ignoring Taliyah's rant as she turned to address Mordelle.
The genasi, silenced, seethed as Mordelle commanded. "Go fetch them. We'll need some backup if we're going to confront Jabbar."
"I don't do sneaking either," Taliyah protested, but she reached down and tugged at her shadow, which flowed back up her legs and settled back atop her like a cloak, concealing her in a formless, faceless figure. She ghosted off. Mordelle tracked the genasi for a few moments, but after that she was lost in the darkness between the tents as she went to gather the other watchers.
Amara turned to him, her face stormier than the clouds above. "How do you suppose we confront him, Ashe?" she demanded. "You gonna march up to him all buddy-buddy and ask politely if he's commiting treason in there?"
He shrugged. That was about as far as his plan had gotten. "I'm Senior of the entire smiting army, that has to mean something," Mordelle said.
"Not to Jabbar. Not to his company."
She was right and he couldn't refute it. "I can't let him pull this under my nose, Amara," he argued, frustrated.
The clouds chose that moment to break and a wall of rain thundered down on them. Amara raised her arm to shield her eyes from the sudden deluge, only partially succeeding as she squinted at him. Mordelle grabbed her arm and pulled her around the other side of the wagon, which they used as a windbreak to keep off the worst of the storm as they hunkered down behind it, already soaked through. "Why?" Mordelle said, defeated, rubbing the water from his face, though his jacket was just as wet and it didn't do anything at all. "One more night and we'd have been in Havenhome."
Where Jabbar would have still caused problems, but at least Mordelle would have more authority in the city and he could have found an excuse to lock the captain away, at least until they'd entrenched themselves. In Havenhome, he would have been able to defang Jabbar with his company too occupied with the siege to pose any real threat. Mordelle sighed and felt the headache coming on again, and he knew it wasn't the pressure from the storm that was causing it.
He startled when Amara's hand touched his own, pulling it away from his face and holding his hand between hers. She had that stubborn look again, the angles of her face sharp in the darkness and the blonde stubble of her hair glistening with raindrops, and he found confidence in her bold grey eyes. He squeezed her hand back. The storm continued to rage around them as they waited for Taliyah to return with the other sentries and Mordelle tried to puzzle out what, exactly, he would do when they arrived. |
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Post by mossecho on Jan 5, 2022 4:14:46 GMT -5
[[ well here goes Citse... I'm writing this bit before I write the actual post and I still have no idea what his personality will end up looking like, so... be prepared like lion king, idk
side note: I added a few things to the map, most notably the Romaperria Empire and its capital city, Etzaparkol. The "pirates" that attacked Mixe, Citse. and Q'umchaa's homelands are really a part of that empire. Mixe and Citse will refer to them as soldiers and sailors, since that how they invaded their home city (seeing as how they lived in the capital of an empire themselves and thus could not be overtaken by a rag-tag pirate gang). For Q'umchaa, due to the unfriendly jungle and different sociopolitical structure of the towns (complex interconnected system of towns and villages versus hierarchical relationship between city-states), that same method of conquest would not work, so the invaders resembled pirates and raiders more than an organized government attack. I also added in Tehnotxicanal's sphere of influence. Even though the city has fallen, the surrounding city-states (because Tehnotxicanal was the capital of an empire that consisted of a bunch of city-states paying tribute to more powerful city-states) are still around and they are heavily influenced by their time in the empire. it should be noted that while Culaxacla was the capital of another (smaller) empire, it was also very culturally similar to the Tehnotxicanal empire.
side note to the side note: Q'umchaa's word for the pirates, "isanpu," comes from the name of Etzaparkol. basically through a series of mistranslations and word exchanges between languages, the capital city's name was applied to the troops that came to Q'umchaa's homeland. basically someone called the soldiers "Etzaparkolians," assuming they were from the capital because they dressed nice and had money, and then that word got funneled through so many languages with so many different phonological systems and so many different people mishearing how foreigners pronounced words that it became "isanpu" by the time it got to Q'umchaa. ]]Citsehuatl an inadequate navigator // south of Tehnotxicanall, in the jungle, as told in the futureHave you heard the story of the phoenix?
It's a tale as older than the Reborn Tehnotxicalan Empire, the Ancient City of Tehnotxicanal, older than the Tehcan culture itself. Ordinary boy, horrible event, rebirth into a leader. Rebirth into a legend, a fire, a new god.
Dearest child, outsiders call these fairytales, but we know them to be true. This is our history, painted on the walls by our ancestors, preserved in our libraries. Go there, read our stories. I cannot anymore, my darling. Go when you can, when the priests are kind and the scholars friendly. Ask your history, and they will tell you what I am telling you now.
"Damn it!"
Citsehuatl looked around, wishing his sister had not heard him. She had, of course, but she was polite enough to pretend that she had not.
He picked at the hole in the bag, terrified by the curse that had befallen them. The hole was a gaping gash, the cut of a knife violently torn through woven leaf. in the hurry to escape Tehnotxicanal, Citsehuatl had gathered all he could: clothes, a blanket, the household idol, limited food provisions, and the precious contents that should have been in that bag. Seeds and scales, two of the most precious items of any household. All were gone.
"Citse, brother, I—oh," his sister's voice fell as she realized what happened.
The young man raised his head to the sky, staring up at the sun. Staring it down. Before Mixecatli could speak again, he raised his hand. The gods must be appeased first.
She nodded and stepped away.
"Dear Lord Corn, dear Great Serpent, forgive me my misdeeds. You bless us, the unworthy, and I have failed you. My sister bears no responsibility, please bless her as you always do. Please bless us, dear Lord Corn, dear Great Serpent. Thank you, praise you, bless you."
The entire time, Citsehuatl stared at the sun. When he looked to his sister, it was still burned on his retnas. A halo surrounded her unbrushed black hair.
"The seeds are gone. The scales, too. It's..." he shook his head. She knew already, he could see the horror etched on her face.
"Our god, they are still with us," Citsehuatl held up the idol, supporting its stone body by the feet and head. Child, remember, one must always do it that way. Help your household god stand, for they toil hard for you. Hold their head up, for they are so tired from their labors. The household gods work hardest. They deserve your support.
Mixecatli bowed her head to the household god. "The fire still burns. The Lord Sun is still with us," she motioned behind her, to where the stranger stood.
The stranger was short, stocky, like the farmers from the inland city-states, and spoke with a mixture of hushed murmurs and explosive consonants. He nodded his head oddly, raising his chin upwards instead of bowing it down like you would. In his hand, he held a branch upright, small and thin and burning on one end. Citsehuatl recognized that fire. It was the one they had carried out of the city, on that sad night.
"Citse, I—"
"No, Mixe, he should carry it," the phoenix reaffirmed her decision. "He saved us, he deserves this honor."
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Post by Brownie on Jan 5, 2022 15:27:54 GMT -5
- - - No post just trying out some new colors mk. - - - VOID Nowhere and everywhere . Abyss As a boy, Ashe was sent to the Paladins of Kor once it was clear his brother would inherit their land and his younger sister their family business. With no real calling and a penchant for starting fights, his parents put him in the Paladins' hands to be reformed. At first, young Ashe rebelled against this, but he eventually made friends within the Order, as well as a role model in his mentor, and used this to find his place and calm his heart. He even made peace with Kor itself, leading him to the center circle of the Order and eventually into the council. He was quickly placed with the Spears as a higher officer due to his proficiency and, well, his quickness for violence, which he never quite grew out of. The years in the Spears has shown him that violence is rarely the answer and nowadays he tries to help smooth things out as peacefully as possible, but that doesn't stop him from showing his fangs when there is evil to be rooted out and he is turning out to be a good commander. Even if he does lack in creativity, he makes up for it by knowing his army well and knowing exactly where he can apply pressure on the battlefield to make the biggest impact with his highly trained units.
Current colors, as well as two pinks and two greens which I'm trying to figure out which to keep. I think the lighter green and the darker pink? Also I have this indigo-ish blue and this salmon red-y color but I think they are both way too sharp.
As a boy, Ashe was sent to the Paladins of Kor once it was clear his brother would inherit their land and his younger sister their family business. With no real calling and a penchant for starting fights, his parents put him in the Paladins' hands to be reformed. At first, young Ashe rebelled against this, but he eventually made friends within the Order, as well as a role model in his mentor, and used this to find his place and calm his heart. He even made peace with Kor itself, leading him to the center circle of the Order and eventually into the council. He was quickly placed with the Spears as a higher officer due to his proficiency and, well, his quickness for violence, which he never quite grew out of. The years in the Spears has shown him that violence is rarely the answer and nowadays he tries to help smooth things out as peacefully as possible, but that doesn't stop him from showing his fangs when there is evil to be rooted out and he is turning out to be a good commander. Even if he does lack in creativity, he makes up for it by knowing his army well and knowing exactly where he can apply pressure on the battlefield to make the biggest impact with his highly trained units.
There's my swatch now. If there's any you really hate seeing and or is hard to read on your device lmk and I'll tinker some more but these look alright in the editor
As a boy, Ashe was sent to the Paladins (teal) of Kor once it was clear his brother would inherit thei(green)r land and his younger sister their family business. With no real calling and a penchant for starting fights, his parents put him in the Paladins' hands to be reforme(silver)d. At first, young Ashe rebell(pink)ed against this, but he eventually made frien(yellow)ds within the Order, as well as a role model in his mentor, and used this to find his place(periwinkle) and calm his heart. He even made peace with Kor itself,(sky blue) leading him to the center circle of the Order and eventually into the council. He was quickly placed with the Spears as a higher officer due to his proficiency and(aqua), [[similar to teal, but it should be fine??]] well, his quickness for violence(green 2), which he never quite grew out of. The years in the Spears has shown him that viol(purple, edited version)ence is rarely the answe tries to help smooth thing(tan)s out as peacefully as possible, but that doesn't stop him from showing his fangs when there is evil to be rooted out and he is turning out to be a good commander.(gold) Even if he does lack in creativit(grey)y, he makes up for it by kn(hot pink)owing his army well and knowing exactly where he can apply pressure on the battlefield to make the biggest impact with his highly train(orange)ed units. |
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Post by Brownie on Jan 5, 2022 15:34:25 GMT -5
[[ It does take some time to settle in characters, but the more ya write em the more you get there as you know already.
And I'm enjoying seeing their rituals and religion, even if there isn't much plot! The fluff is the fun stuff <3 ]]
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Post by Brownie on Jan 5, 2022 22:50:02 GMT -5
- - - Just a little more sidetracking before I get to my main plot okay??? I like the IDEA of dungeon crawls even if the actual crawling bores me to death (re: d&d, skyrim, mmos) so I write them so I can skip around and only include the cool things (fights, interesting rooms, loot, base building) and not the boring stuff (hallway fights, seven million adds, level grinding).
Also Lav now has a true purple instead of like, off-white.
tl;dr: They finally reach the exit and the ruin proper, we get to have a look around... next episode! - - - Autumn Ménxictu . Dead Languages
The darkness was overwhelming to Autumn, who didn't much like enclosed spaces she was quickly coming to realize, though Lavender's orb of light and his easy conversation did a lot to help dispel her nerves. It wasn't long before she noticed a greyness in the distance, which was odd only because before that there was the even blackness of closed eyelids. "Is it just me or is it getting brighter?"
"Oh, I've seen the light for a while now. I'm hoping that implies the previous excavation team succeeded in unbolting the other side." And Autumn thought her own night vision was good, something to do with elven blood she thought, which would explain her darker skin and hair and maybe the reason she was left on the Order of Kor's doorstep as a babe. Of course, the Divine must also have true Darkvision, like full blooded elves.
A few minutes later and Lavender extinguished the light, sending the shadows racing down the walls like a dark tide. She flinched, but after a deep breath Autumn was able to keep moving. It wasn't as if the pipe curved or the metal had any imperfections, so even blinded she could still keep her path using Lavender's footsteps as guidance. "Ah! Sorry, I keep forgetting."
She could see he was about to resummon the light, but she waved her hand. "I can see alright now, my eyes are adjusting." And it was true, though she couldn't see further than her own feet or the grey blur of movement that was Lavender's hand. It made the light in the distance appear brighter, however, closer, and Autumn rather have her eyes adjust now in the safety of the tunnel than be blinded in the ruin proper, where she didn't know how many other constructs like the one they'd fought before would be lurking.
Be prepared. Something always goes wrong.
That was Autumn's mantra and she said it to herself now as she followed behind Lavender and tried to not think of what could be lurking in the shadows around her, rationalizing that the Divine most certainly could see any threats even if she could not. That didn't stop her from feeling as if the pipe was closing in around her, not until they got even closer to the entrance, where the ambient light was bright enough that she could see the curving walls of the pipe at her sides again.
They came across the open hole abruptly. The light was dimmer than Autumn expected, and so she'd thought it was further away, but there they were, standing on the lip of the pipe that overlooked the inside of the ruin. No wonder it was dim, she thought, peeking out from between the gap between where they stood and the other end of the pipe, which had been unscrewed from their section and pushed down creating an opening only big enough for a person to slip through.
It appeared they were inside some sort of boiler room. Out of the five large pipes that jutted from the mountainside, only three were present here, continuing their long path through the room and pierced the other wall. The other two must have branched or diverted elsewhere in the underground fortress, Autumn guessed, though she had no real way of knowing where they went or for what purpose they were even there in the first place. Lavender had said something about steam and cooling, but she hardly had the knowledge to put together the ancient engineering.
"Here's our stop," Lavender said cheerily. The Divine had grabbed hold of the side of the pipe and was leaning out over the opening to better survey their surroundings, his robe was pulled downward, revealing that he was wearing bright, lime green pants beneath. Autumn would have laughed at Lavender's choice of color, which she felt did not suit him in the least, but the one thing she learned in school was to hold back a laugh and while it was a difficult task, she managed with only a slight, choked sound she disguised as a cough.
They waited a few minutes, listening and watching the room for any sign of danger. Like clockwork, the pipe closest to their right rattled and shook like a herd of galloping horses was using it for a race, then quickly stilled again. But other than that regular disturbance, the room was silent. "I think it's clear," Lavender declared, "although you're the military expert here, Spear Dove."
It was far brighter than the pitch black pipe, but the room, which paralleled a cellar in many ways from what she could tell, was still gloomy and Autumn could only survey it from over Lavender's shoulder so she shrugged. "If you don't see anything moving. The other team didn't say anything about motion-sensing booby traps in their report, right?"
Lavender swung back inside the pipe, which they both figured was safer than the ruins, if only because they had walked the length without anything going wrong so far. Besides the single construct, she corrected. "First, I unfortunately did not read a word of their report, even if they had time to write one, and second," he gave her a worried glance, "could there be traps?"
Autumn spluttered. "How would I know? You're the expert here!" Which didn't bode well for the mission or their safety at all.
The Divine furrowed his brow. "The Atmeri were engineers. They could easily rig pressure plates, or tripwires. Magical traps should have degraded by now..."
To which Autumn left him muttering and swung down her pack, wriggling the knots at the top loose and pulling free the sections of plate armor strapped to the sides. "If it were me," she said as she worked to don the armor, which clattered painfully loud in the metal tunnel and echoed down the pipes in a rattling hiss. "I wouldn't waste time, resources, or the effort to trap a random cellar room."
Lavender latched on to her reasoning. "And they would assume no one could even get in here without using the main entrances, which are locked so tightly no one could open them from the outside. Yes, that does make sense. There would be minimal chance someone could slip in through the steam pipes. Unless they'd broken, like this one, in which case they'd have ample time to repair it. Good logic!"
Autumn grunted an agreement as she tightened on the padding for her legs. "I'm still not going in there without armor. No blessed construct gonna shoot me that easily again, I swear to Kor."
"Mmm," Lavender hummed, nodding. "I think that's also a good idea." |
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Post by Hawkeyes258 on Jan 6, 2022 10:43:26 GMT -5
(I wasn't sure how far away the Hall should be. Truthfully, I was thinking of placing it in the desert cause that could be interesting)
The Road
After a couple hours of walking, the three companions decided to take a break near the side of the road. They were preparing to have a quick lunch until a group of five bandits suddenly popped out. "Hand over your goods and no one gets hurt!" A kobold exclaimed pointing at them. The three fighters glance at each other before looking back at the bandits. "You sure you want to do this?" Ragnar asked smiling politely at them. The kobold narrowed his eyes, tightens his grip on his spear and moves a little closer. "You heard me dwarf hand over your goods or else!"
Vance unsheathes his rapiers and rolls his shoulders back. He takes a few deep breathes as he feels his excitement bubble beneath his skin. "Suppose, there is no point in reasoning with them." Vance turns his gaze to the bandits, smirking as he does so. "If any of you are still alive after this little encounter let it be known that you dared to mess with the Thunderbrawlers!"
The bandits stared for a few minutes before one of the humans began to snort. This cause the others to chuckle as well. "What kind of name is Thunder Brawlers? Is that some kind of circus act? " Ren couldn't help but smile. "See, told you we should have gone with Thunder Fists!" Vance rolled his eyes at this. "Come on it's a pretty solid name. Better than the other names we tried. Remember bar fighters?" Ragnar ,who was holding his battle ax in his hands, gives him a grin. "I still think that could have worked. " Feeling impatient, the kobold lets out a cry and goes running at Ragnar. However, before he could get much closer, Ren rushes forward and with a swift kick to his stomach sends the kobold flying backwards and unto his back with a thud.
"We can argue about the name later. Let's fight these guys!" Ren said as she puts her fists up. Vance nodded and stood in position. Ragnar's grin lets bigger and motions his hand at the bandits to come at him. The kobold who appeared to be the leader growls. "Kill them!"
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Post by Brownie on Jan 6, 2022 19:20:28 GMT -5
[[ Hawk - oooooh please do! That sounds like a really fun adventure to have! I had to put the desert in because I was getting sad that we only had a bare strip of steppe and everything else was temperate or tropical. We don't really even have cold on this map, which is a shame, unless we just say there's another large island/continent/landmass to the north or south, which should be easy enough to "draw in" if we want to have a cold climate area too.
It's unfortunate that we only really have that one area that can be rain-shadowed into having a desert. There could be an argument for the middle to also have one, but there's that big bay and though it might be dry, it probably wouldn't be hot enough there. Oh, having a desert on the west side means we have predominantly east->west wind patterns, which might feel a bit weird to anyone in the states haha.
--Wait if we are assuming that wind pattern, then we'd also know currents and where monsoons would hit. I don't want to map that zzzz ]]
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Post by Brownie on Jan 7, 2022 15:55:45 GMT -5
[[ AHHH so I was bouncing ideas off a friend and they had a few really good ideas for where Jabbar's spat could go and I think I have the perfect way to make that happen. (; Very excited to have a direction to go with that!
Also now that I'm back from my vacation I'm working more on my short 'fic so may be slow around here while I wrap up that plotline. Hopefully I can get it to move on quickly instead of lurking in this middle ground. I have it fully plotted for beats I just need to force the characters to MOVE ]]
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Post by Brownie on Jan 8, 2022 15:45:03 GMT -5
- - - I wrote this in between things at work. It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but I'm not in the mood to write more and it was already getting wordy (1.7k oof) so I'll continue the scene later. Also, Raoul just jumped into this plot headfirst I WAS going to make Lucy sneak around and listen in the Mordelle/Jabbar confrontation, but then this happened and we'll just have to see who Raoul turns out to be and what happens from here, since apparently I don't control my characters //shrug
tl;dr: Lucy overhears Mordelle and Amara's conversation about the pair Jabbar snuck into camp. She weathers the storm in a wagon with Raoul, a suspicious man who curiously doesn't wear Kor's sigil. - - - Lucy Lover's Pass Camp, Havenhome . Spears of Kor Lucy was wasting time. Already it would have been difficult to make the walk to the pass and back before morning, but now she doubted she could make it all, even if she hurried.
Then the storm hit.
It snuck up on her from over the mountain’s top, the clouds barely cresting the tops of the peaks and slipping over the sky in a shadow murkier than the town pond in Kirth. The air fizzed with the storm’s energy and Lucy felt the temperature plummet in only a few short moments as she pulled the hat and scarf tighter around her face, holding her hands in her pockets to warm them.
She would have to turn back. There was no chance she’d be able to slog up the mountain in the middle of a storm, though the rain may have given her an opportunity to slip by the watcher. Lucy glanced back to the shadows, but the watcher was gone. They hadn’t seen Lucy, had they?
No, she reassured herself, or they’d already be here.
That was when she heard a woman’s voice. “I am not for hiding, you hear?” Lucy turned slowly, her back against the wagon as she tried to keep hidden. Then she heard Miss Bannlea’s voice and Lucy startled, realizing this might be exactly what she was looking for, though she hadn’t intended to do any spying tonight. And they dropped right in her lap! Quick as a mouse, Lucy slipped underneath the wagon, sticking close to the wheels and axel to break her silhouette, though she doubted anyone was short enough to see underneath, even Miss Bannlea.
The first woman was talking again, rather loudly in fact, and it was easy enough for Lucy to follow the sound of her voice as she rounded the side of the wagon and darted across a section of open ground between the tents to a closer hide behind a stack of firewood. She could see Miss Bannlea now, along with the woman who had been speaking. A genasi, with light blue skin that glowed even in the dim, storm-cloud covered night and a trail of long hair that flowed like a river around her, mesmerizing Lucy for a few moments so that she didn’t really catch what Miss Bannlea whispered in reply.
Something about Tachinid spies in their camp, an officer named Jabbar. She’d heard of him, of course, from the other cooks and Spears during her time with the Paladins of Kor. He had a reputation as having the best Spears in the entire army. They certainly were more polite than the others; having been on the vanguard, Jabbar’s companies were the ones that helped the cooks set up camp first thing that night and had done so efficiently and without complaint, treating the cooking staff kindly and even helping them avoid Eddam’s wrath.
Mordelle was there too, she realized as the Senior Spear stepped up beside Miss Bannlea, resting a hand on her arm. The comfortable gesture as Miss Bannlea brushed his hand with her own confirmed the rumors that the two were close and Lucy risked peeking her head above the stack of wood to better see the group. She had to take off her hat, which while dark in color was tall and poofy, and her ears immediately were cold as the wind kicked up. The storm took some of their words, but Lucy was able to catch most of what was happening.
Jabbar had let a pair of people into the camp. Mordelle and Miss Bannlea thought it was spies.
Only Lucy knew they could not be, since Rowan would not be so stupid to risk such a thing, even if Lucy was a day late on her check in. Whoever Jabbar had let in, they were not with the Tachinids, that was for certain. In fact, whoever else was sneaking in had hindered the Tachinids, Lucy thought, fighting a snort at the irony, since she was stuck here from the increased security instead of sneaking off her message.
Though this bit of gossip might excuse her tardiness. Lucy watched in awe as the genasi pulled her own shadow out of the ground. The watcher, she recognized, as the genasi shrugged the shadow onto her shoulders like a coat, cloaking her in darkness as she ghosted out, invisible in the dark night after only a few footsteps.
"How do you suppose we confront him, Ashe?" Miss Bannlea said, her own voice loud in the calm between stormy bursts of gale winds. Lucy wouldn’t have recognized Miss Bannlea if not for her voice. She knew the lady was not as airheaded as she put on, all the camp’s maids did, having been in her tent in the late hours when she wasn’t afraid to put on a hard look and a biting comment in private when one of her aides erred. No one blamed her; Miss Bannlea was kind enough most of the time and all of the girls knew how stressful it was to keep up appearances like Miss Bannlea did and could empathize with her even when she snapped.
It was this voice she used with Mordelle now and in the darkness in pants and without a wig, she looked more like a brawler looking for a fight than a lady of high standing.
Mordelle muttered something back but the wind took that from Lucy’s ears. Whatever it was, Miss Bannlea sighed and embraced him, holding the Senior Spear. She couldn’t hear their quiet words now at all, but she could see the ridges of Mordelle’s face and his dark, sunken eyes, the frustration that furrowed his brow and the dogged way he stared the way the genasi had left.
The rain came suddenly, in a burst of fat, heavy drops. Mordelle pulled Miss Bannlea away from the open, disappearing behind a wagon on the opposite side of camp from where Lucy hid.
She heard the tent beside her rattle as a Spear crashed out. “The wood’s gettin’ wet, Anderson,” he complained as he tugged on his boots, heading directly in her direction by the woodpile. He had his hand shielding his eyes from the rain and a jacket thrown over his head, so he didn’t see Lucy scurry away from the woodpile and under the nearby wagon. He quickly threw a tarp over the wood and darted back to the tent.
Lucy shivered, already thoroughly wet from the storm break, though she’d had the presence of mind to shove back on her hat once the rain began. At least it was dry under the wagon, though the rain pounded the wooden sides like angry fists and horse’s hooves, splattering the underside with mud as the drops drove themselves into the ground.
She’d have to go back to her tent, though she hated to have to walk through the storm. At least she wouldn’t even have to try and hide from the guards; she doubted anyone could see past a few meters in the dark and the pouring rain. Lightning flashed a line of light under the carriage and the immediate thunderclap was loud enough to rattle Lucy’s teeth and sudden enough to make the halfling jump, bashing her head against the wagon.
“Hey,” a voice called, muffled, from above. Lucy froze, clamping a hand over her mouth. She didn’t think she made a sound, but she never quite could keep from squealing when she was badly frightened. Knuckles knocked on the wood, feeling louder than the thunder as the echoes rang around Lucy’s head. “Cmon, crawling in the dirt can’t be comfortable. Wait out the storm in here.”
Lucy didn’t want to risk being caught here, but she also didn’t want to be crunched under the wagon all night either, so she quickly slipped outside and knocked on the wagon’s door. It opened after the first pound, leaving her fist in the air for a moment before she quickly pulled herself up off the ground and out of the rain. “Thanks,” she said, as the other closed the door from above, shutting out the rain. “I was running a message and got caught in the storm on the way back.” It wasn’t even a lie, technically, except for the part that she was on the way back. Though that was true in a way too, she supposed, since she’d already decided she wouldn’t be able to send her blinking message to the Tachinids.
She didn’t offer any more details. Lucy hated this spying business, but she’d done enough sneaking out as a teen to know that the more specific the lies were, the more likely you’d be caught out with them, and she figured the same logic would apply here too.
The one who’d found her was a man not much older than she was, with spiked blonde hair and a long nose. His features didn’t look elven, but his ears were long and pointed like an elf’s. He wasn’t wearing the Spear’s uniform, nor did he have a sigil of Kor anywhere she could see. Even Lucy had a patch pinned to her pants pocket, the double cross sigil drawn in bright white thread.
He settled down against the side of the wagon with a sigh, spreading his legs out as he sat. He had a bit of frayed rope in his hands and was absently twisting and knotting it, as if by habit, though he didn’t spare a glance at the patterns he wove as he tied and untied the rope’s ends. “I’m Raoul,” he offered.
“Lucy,” she said. No use in giving a fake name, she was probably the only halfling cook in the Spears and would be easy to find. Besides, she had no reason to hide. If the Paladins found out she was a spy, they wouldn’t need a name to find her. “You don’t look like a soldier.”
He smiled. “Got it in one,” he said. Lucy decided she liked his lighthearted, musical voice, which was a whole lot nicer than the growls and grunts of the Spears. Even the cooks, overworked and unaccustomed to the fast pace and hard camping, were never lively enough to have any life left for a good nature. Lucy thought he’d elaborate on why, then, he was with the Spears, as she’d never seen him with the cooks or the staff either, which there weren’t enough of to have missed him entirely for the two weeks they’d been marching. |
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Post by Brownie on Jan 11, 2022 19:39:54 GMT -5
- - - Yooooo. Classes are starting up again :( At least I don't have many hard ones this semester but I'm not ready to start again zzzz
tl;dr: - - - Autumn Ménxictu . Dead Languages
For all that they had worried, the boiler room was surprisingly mundane. Machines clanked and clattered against the stone walls and the pipes continued to rattle. Every two minutes and forty three seconds, Lavender noted to her excitedly as she was checking the opposite corner of the room.
It worried her that there was no door to close, only an open stone archway that led to a long, narrow hallway. She was careful as she poked her head outside and watched for any movement, but there never was anything of note. From how quiet the ruin has been so far, she was surprised a construct had found them at all down the pipe. Perhaps a routine maintenance they had been unfortunate enough to be in the way of. Little guy was just doing his job, she thought, feeling a moment of pity for the construct before the memory of pain quickly pushed it out.
She debated checking the hallway on her own, but |
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Post by mossecho on Jan 14, 2022 17:38:19 GMT -5
[[ hey everyone! sorry it's been a bit since I've posted, I moved back into the dorms and started the new quarter at my university. I'll probably post this weekend. just wanted to leave a note so it didn't seem like a disappeared entirely  ]]
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Post by Brownie on Jan 15, 2022 19:03:09 GMT -5
[[ Yo! Good luck on classes hopefully you have good profs !! I lucked out this semester and got really lucky with my lab. I've had to drop the class my first year cuz the prof was awful (one of those that you KNOW will be bad from the first day/welcome speech...), but looks like they finally got rid of her and got someone competent in! But take your time! That's the whole point of this place; no one should be pressured to write when they don't have the time. And ℊℓоω I see u lurking around here again. We have maps ;) ]] |
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Post by Brownie on Jan 15, 2022 19:26:16 GMT -5
[[ ay the whole point is to just jump in when you want that little bit more and don't have time for any commitment. The forms and character sheets are for personal organization only so. ]]
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Post by Brownie on Jan 16, 2022 13:11:09 GMT -5
[[ mk I have good news and bad news.
Bad news first: the interactive map CAN time out if no one is on it for a set period of time. Idk the interval, but it looks to be on the scale of days. This will be less of an issue the more people we get in here, so that even if some take longer hiatus and/or don't move the map for a while, others still will.
the GOOD news, and this is excellent news, is that I can easily reset the map by simply reuploading the map, in which all tokens and markings are replaced so there is NO loss of progress even when the map "goes down". It is unfortunate that I made this on the laptop which is the "host" ip, so I can't just reset it from my pc, but hey its not that hard to do!
In other news, the interactive map is back up and I'm glad to have tested this earlier in the rp rather than later ]]
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Post by Hawkeyes258 on Jan 16, 2022 22:21:02 GMT -5
(Okay I was wondering if it was just me that the map wasn't working)
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Post by Brownie on Jan 17, 2022 18:26:54 GMT -5
[[ Nope! It should be fine now!
If you ever have problems with it not up, ping me and I should get to it asap. I'm usually on to check up on things at least once a day (; ]]
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Post by Hawkeyes258 on Jan 18, 2022 15:48:01 GMT -5
Bullhorn
Marsha excuses herself to go help her father with something in the kitchen. Uriel crosses his arms over his chest and looks over at Daniel. "What do you think about what we learned?" He asked. Daniel ponders this for a moment before speaking. "I don't know but I do believe there has been many stories about old gods that ruled before the current gods took over. Makes sense a cult would take residence in some old temple or city. I'm just unsure what we will be dealing with." Uriel slowly nodded his head. "Perhaps, we find a larger city and search the local library or ask a priest." He suggested. Uriel wanted a little more information before they go straight to the desert.
Uriel knew Necromancers could be deadly if they were strong enough. Hopefully, the underlings weren't to strong.
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Post by Brownie on Jan 18, 2022 19:06:37 GMT -5
- - - Why does it feel like my characters are stuck when it's Literally Just Me roleplaying ??? Crying
I have to make Choices and Character Arc Stuff now, it's not just fluff anymore. This frightens me. BUT I found a way to kinda sorta avoid that <3 more fluff in this short scene before Mordelle kicks the hornet's nest and things start going down. Also if you can't soon tell by the change in quality of these, they should be a bit shorter as I'm no longer word vomiting on the page with zero edits and instead trying to make them sound a little nicer and get my thoughts out clearly without rambling/third person narrating as much. I've started my workshopping season and already I've been uh, passionately reminded that my rambling is actually not good writing and that I need to keep an eye on how I'm getting my information across (infodumping) and sentence structure (rambling, repetitive, generally garbage pacing).
tl;dr: Lucy and Raoul have a little friendly chatter. - - - Lucy Lover's Pass Camp, Havenhome . Spears of Kor Lucy should have just kept quiet, but she spent so much time keeping her head down and not being seen in the Spears that the words came tumbling out. "That sounds like an interesting story."
Raoul finished a complicated knot with the rope, looping it around and around like the petals of the flower with a tight ball of string in the middle holding it together in the center. Unlike the other knots, which he tied and untied without looking, he held this one in the palm of his hand, staring at it intently. Lucy couldn't tell if he was interested in the pattern or if he was searching for a reason to not meet her eyes. Either way, he was still for a few, long moments, and she was about to apologize for overstepping when he suddenly pulled the complex knot apart with a single tug and looked up with a self-deprecating chuckle. "It's really not that interesting," he started, his fingers starting again on a new knot, "One of the commanders. I'm her..." he scrunched his nose, as if searching for a word, and pointed a finger emphatically when he found it, "companion. Yeah, that's it. We don't go anywhere apart, so here I am." Raoul spread his arms, gesturing to the wagon and probably the Spears of Kor itself.
She could understand that; Lucy would give anything to be back with her family, to never leave their little home again. "Now a halfling mixed up in war," Raoul said, pointing the question back at her, which she knew she should have expected but flinched and pulled down her hat anyways, "that's a story."
"It's not really that interesting," she said, and Raoul burst out in laughter as he recognized the words as his own. Lucy grinned, excited he had caught on, and waited until he caught his breath and was waving her to continue, to which she merely shrugged. "I'm just a cook."
"Who also runs messages in the dark and rain?"
"I have many skills," she said defensively. The rain in question continued to patter against the wooden wagon and thunder cracked from above periodically, reminding them both of the storm's power. At least there wasn't too much wind; the wagon rocked occasionally with a particularly strong gust, but nothing violent enough to worry Lucy. The camp was lucky to be protected by the mountainside. Unless a mudslide carried the entire camp down the slope, they should weather the storm just as well as they had a week previous on the plains: an angry force of nature that Lucy had been sure would tear the camp asunder as she and Renée huddled together in their tent (Ygritte was already asleep, caring less about the storm than she cared about her tentmates), but that storm had passed by with only a few broken tents from Spears that hadn't dug their stakes in deep enough, a great deal more wet bedding from those that hadn't noticed a tear, and a spectacularly long hunt to find a herd of sheep, who had somehow broken free in the night and had been found almost a mile distant munching on some poor farmer's crop. |
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Post by Brownie on Jan 19, 2022 0:58:46 GMT -5
- - - ...
tl;dr: Taliyah does magic. They finally get inside the wagon to confront Jabbar. - - - Mordelle Lover's Pass, Havenhome . Spears of Kor The first rule of battle: always keep your opponent guessing.
"Give it all you got," Mordelle encouraged, though after seeing the evil grin spread across Taliyah's face, he hoped there'd be enough of the spies left to question. The genasi's hair swirled upward against the driving rain and she threw her hands towards the wagon, sending a blast of air that threw the heavy wooden structure up against the stone in a spray of splinters and a concussive crash louder even than the thunder overhead.
Taliyah shook out her hands, her blue skin aglow with the magic as she grinned back at Mordelle. "Oops."
The wagon's door shuddered as someone tried to kick it open from the inside, but the impact must have wedged it shut. Sentries flooded the area like ants, mostly Jabbar's men, Mordelle guessed, that were guarding nearby, but other soldiers poked their heads out of tents at the commotion, though few left their warm tents to brave the driving rain. Mordelle stepped into the fray with his best parade march, drawing eyes to the sigil of Kor blazing bright white in the night on his chest. Amara stayed behind, but her handpicked Spears followed close on Mordelle's heels as escort; he was impressed with their tight formation and discipline, Amara trained her men well.
Taliyah skipped along at his left shoulder, still glowing with magic. If the spectators in their tents had any doubts about what had caused the damage, they surely would be dispelled watching Mordelle's party close in on Jabbar's scouts.
One of those scouts, an older man with a wide-brimmed hat and a crooked nose, stood firmly in between Mordelle and the battered wagon. He was close enough that he could hear muffled shouts from inside over the frantic banging. "Senior Mordelle. Sir." The honorific was tagged only after a moment's pause, and Mordelle glared down at the man, wishing he could channel Kor's hot fury if only for a moment. He did have a nasty glare, even without divine intervention, with his dark-ringed, tired eyes, though while he could chip away at the scout's bravado, he couldn't touch the steely resolve at his core. The man didn't budge. "Did you need something?"
Mordelle was truly upset now, and the man finally flinched back as Mordelle's hand reflexively reached down to the handle of his mace at his hip. "Don't play me for a fool, Spear," he growled, and though he was a few centimeters shorter, Mordelle managed to loom over him, much to his satisfaction. He waved his escort forward and two burly Spears pushed the man aside, allowing Mordelle to stomp forward unimpeded to the wagon's door. A few of Jabbar's scouts had been trying to pry it open from the outside, but they gave way and allowed Amara's Spears to push them aside as they surrounded wagon.
Again, Mordelle was pleased with their discipline. He'd needed enough of a scene that they'd have witnesses from other divisions to prevent Jabbar's people from trying anything, but he hadn't wanted inter-army aggression; Jabbar wasn't a traitor, not yet, and he couldn't manhandle his company too hard or they'd have justifiable reason to stir up a stink. But Amara's Spears held the line stoically, their spears remaining at their hips even if they had their hands at the ready, and not a single one lashed out when Jabbar's scouts didn't move quickly enough, they merely stood as a wall: inevitable, unflinching, and immune to the curses Jabbar's scouts muttered at them.
When he was sure he had the area secured and Jabbar's scouts wouldn't try anything stupid, he nodded to Taliyah. "Gently, we're not here to hurt whoever's inside." Not yet, anyways, he added silently.
Getting the door open took much more finesse than throwing the cart across the ground, and Taliyah's fingers moved in complex patterns, her brow furrowed in the rain and hair flapping like a pennant behind her as the wagon shuddered. Mordelle felt her magic pulsing beside him and he stepped aside to give her room to work. He was glad of his intuition as a few seconds later the door was ripped from the wagon and thrown over their heads, disappearing into the storm as it sailed over the camp entirely and off the side of the mountain below. Mordelle nodded to her and she bounced on the balls of her feet, laughing in a pitch that made the hairs on his neck stand up.
He waved forward the two Spears closest to them --a short, blonde man and a broad-shouldered, dark skinned woman with nubs of horns sticking out from her hair-- and climbed into the wagon and out of the rain. |
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Post by Brownie on Jan 20, 2022 1:00:42 GMT -5
- - - W
tl;dr: Commotion as they hear Mordelle and Taliyah smashing things. - - - Lucy Lover's Pass Camp, Havenhome . Spears of Kor The crash that echoed loud enough to shake their wagon was definitely not thunder. |
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Post by ♥.•°Insanity°•.♥ on Jan 21, 2022 22:27:39 GMT -5
Hi, sorry I've been gone for so loooong. I've been Student Teaching and recently recovering from covid. Just... uh... low mental capacity over all. }}
Pasha
Part of the job was wandering with strangers in the wilderness. As an orphaned half-orc with nowhere to fit in, Pasha had always scrambled to find something he could succeed in. Turned out, his greatest strength was in navigation. From what he could remember about his parents, they both had very different beliefs in what would bring Pasha fortune. Be smart, be wise! His mother had encouraged him to put any mental knowledge to use. Be strong and fight! His father encouraged strength and hardiness for any battle that may come. Pasha listened in his own way. As a guide, he got a bit of both worlds and the respect he knew he deserved. It was one of the few ways Pasha could fit into a world that would never fully accept him.
Through the years, Pasha had built a name for himself. He was known for taking the risk for a little extra cash. He had to admit to himself that he had matured and was becoming more calculated in his decisions than before. Being around such young spirits now made Pasha consider letting this be his last job. They were strange, yes. But they also had energy and inspiration that far surpassed his. This was proven in the night with the constant chatter from the tall slender redhead. Ehri sounded like whispers among the trees. Pasha had not figured out if the name meant something or just resembled Ehri’s need to waste air with the never ending mumbling. But if the half-orc had learned anything about his line of work, it is to not ask too many questions. The more you know, the less likely you live. Although curious, Pasha would not ask why the man's mind was scrambled or why the fairy had no wings.
When mumbling turned into pacing, Pasha was relieved to hear Ehri sit on the ground in hopes of some much needed quiet. Then a small voice spoke from the dark. The fairy was now joining in on the disturbances. “Quiet! There is little time before the sun rises, and I wish to rest till then.” Pasha grumbled from his spot on the ground. His back was not unfamiliar with a grassland bed but with age, he increasingly felt every lump. Silence pursued his command and the half-orc was pleased. At least he knew they could take instruction, they were going to need it later on.
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Post by Brownie on Jan 21, 2022 23:38:41 GMT -5
[[ Oh no! I hope you're feeling better <3 Trying to recover and do work is the absolute worst.
And that's the whole point of this place! No need to apologize for taking time away to deal with things; we'll just be excited to see ya again on the other side (; ]]
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Post by Hawkeyes258 on Jan 31, 2022 22:57:19 GMT -5
(Will post something soon!)
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Post by Brownie on Jan 31, 2022 23:26:28 GMT -5
[[ sounds good!!
I've been busy with other projects which is really nice, but I'll have the itch to do some more of this plot very soon (;
-- yoooo so I just want yall to know that I just wrote a short story for a prompt (cuz I wanted to I suppose) and I was like, heh, let me POV it from the Tachinids on the attack of Havenhome!
Anyways, I know what happens now. Things go boom. This war aint as one sided as Mordelle hopes it'll be. (:
I am VERY excited to get to that point in the war now. ]]
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Post by Brownie on Feb 4, 2022 23:31:22 GMT -5
[[ Yooo I love yall and I'll probably continue to write for Kell/Lief, but I mayyy drop posting more of the war storyline, since I actually have a LOT of worldbuilding planned and well, it's a big project for me now. I'm curious to see if I can manage to make it be a Real Story. Since it's currently like, 30k+ words AND I have the arc fully plotted! I want to see if I can FINish it <3
I think it would be really cool to finish the first draft before summer, and I think at the pace I know I can go if I push, that it's possible. So far, this "arc" is looking like it'll be ~180k words if I continue with the current pacing, which is a lot, but also it's a fantasy epic what do you expect...
If I know I can do 50k a month easy, that's only another 4 months to finish :) which I think I can put to pace. It'll be a challenge for sure, but I really do think I can do it!! Imma try!! But I'm going to probably keep it under wraps a) because it's gonna look less like rp; b) because I don't want it to be interacted with, which is the opposite of the point of this place and c) because mAYBE. MAYBE do I have a chance of actually turning this into a full novel. MAybe. if I can finish it. And edit it. And draft a sequel. Gods.
I'll still do more for Kell/Lief tho!! Their arc has nothing to do with the war. <3 ]]
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Post by mossecho on Feb 7, 2022 0:09:51 GMT -5
[[ midterms suck xD
but at any rate, my goal this week is to finally, finally post something here! me thinks Q'umchaa and Mixe are going to become closer friends and Citse is going to start his revenge arc. or they might make it to the city, idk. we'll see what happens after I finally write my Durkheim paper ]]
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