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IC: Mezzanie Ti
Location: The Streets and then The Abbey, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

As Mezzanie walked down the streets of the large city as the sun set. The crowds now were starting to thin as the city dwellers returned to their homes, no doubt to have dinner with their families. Such warm thoughts made the woman smile inside.... the bonds of family were the strongest ties between people. She took the Wyvern Road as it was the fastest way to the abbey from the gate.

Yes, it went through a harsher neighboorhood, but Priestesses didn't worry about such things. Well, not true. The Church Priestesses did. Traveling priestesses took a much stronger role. As she passed by the Bear's Rest, shouts from the inside of the inn flamered up. The Rest was one of the most rowdy establishments in Manrenthain, and she made sure not to spend too much time around it. She wasn't too particularly excited about picking a fight with a team of drunkards.

She left the rowdy mess behind her as she rushed up the street. The shadow of the tall belltower of the Abbey loomed as she went down the Wyvern. It was good to see the old tower again. She passed a team of lamplighters, who tipped their hats at her as she went down the road. Mezzanie bowed her robed head as she continued, smiling underneath it. The Wyvern dumped out into the small Piazza Wolvenius, at which the Abbey stood.

Mezzanie skipped up the steps, the guards at the front door letting her pass.

"Welcome back Mezzanie!" one of her friends said, a guard by the name of Christianna.

"Glad to be back." Mezzanie shouted as she entered the building. She was heading straight to the Mother Superior's Office. Such was the right and proper way, to move to quickly fulfill her mission. Then, and only then would she properly rest, and maybe catch up with her friends.

The stone hallways snaked in front of her. Up a staircase, a left at the hallway, and a right down the other hall. And then, right in front of her, the thick wooden doors of the Mother Superior.

Mezzanie took a moment to breathe in and collect herself. The priestess' always said that one must be focused to properly present oneself to the Mother Superior. They said that she could sense a troubled mind.

Breathe in. Beathe out.

Mezzanie raised her hand to knock on the doorway and waited to be acknowledged by the powerful woman of the Abbey.

TAG: LSA as the Mother Superior

 

Name: Derk (AKA Derek or The Wanderer)
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Faction: Rouge
Home: N/A
Place of Birth: Quandanlore

---

Character Sheet:

Name: Ombre'esclave (Ombre)

Species: Dark Elf.
[blockquote][i]Dark Elves, considered evil by most men, are pale creatures with both black hair and black fingernails. Their own brand of magic focuses around battle and darkness; they are a dark warrior class among elves. They take pride in battle, and jump at the chance to fight. Darkness is their ally, they use the night as if it were a part of their being. [/i]
[i] [/i]
[i] Light footed, Dark Elves move as quickly and quietly as most other Elf species, and, for this reason, they make great spies and thieves, though the eldest among their kind object to such practices. Men see very few Dark Elves; they rarely leave their homeland unless outcast or on assignment from their Elders. Some say this is also why they are perceived as "evil" by other races, as those few Dark Elves that are actually seen are those whose crimes in their homeland are great enough for them to have been cast out of their own realm. [/i]
[i] [/i]
[i] Dark Elves rarely, if ever, speak of their homeland, and no other race to enter it has returned. It is believed that their homeland has some connection to their magic, as the further from their homeland they travel, the more the strength of their uncanny powers and spells is diminished. Dark Elves have a high code of honor, and, if saved from certain death, feel obligated to serve a life debt to their savior, which often leads to their becoming thieves and spies working for men. [/i]
[i] [/i]
[i] Each of their powers and abilities revolve around night and darkness, and the creatures of such. Strong Dark Elves with attuned magical skill can enshroud a village in darkness, and use darkmatter to harm other living beings, and inanimate things, though such instances rarely occur outside their own homeland and realm. More likely to be seen by another race, and most readily noticed, is the Dark Elf ability to speak with animals of the night, such as Owls, Bats, Wolves and other creatures. This relationship to other predatory creatures of the night has only served to enhance the species' reputation for being servants of evil, which is often mistakenly equated with darkness. [/i]
[i] [/i]
[i] Like other Elves, Dark Elves are blessed with enhanced hearing and vision, though the latter less so than their counterparts. Where other Elves can see great distances during the day, a Dark Elf can see just as much as a human can, and at times even less than that. Instead, their ability is shown at night, where they can see across great distances, equated with other elves' long-range daylight vision. [/i]
[i] [/i]
[i] Another significant difference between Elves and their darker counterparts is that Dark Elf calendars are based around the lunar cycle rather than the solar cycle, which has led to some confusion between Elves and other races.[/i]
[/blockquote]
Gender: Male
Age: 103 (appears in early 20's)
Faction: Rouge/Derk
Home: N/A
Place of Birth: Unknown
[HR]
[color=#00dd00]
[/color]
[color=#00dd00][i]OOC: LSA, Could you hit me with an Intro?[/i][/color]

 

IC: Kitlin Ronin
Female Barracks


Kit smiled softly as Jace spoke of her family. She was obviously very close to them and Kit knew that feeling well. They way people spoke of their family usually predicted the way they would treat others.

"You have a brother?" Jace asked her. "What does he do? If I may ask?"

"Jinn is...was a smithy." Kit replied, with a small sad twist of her usual smile. "He was killed a few years ago, by marauders out by the hills. But he lead a good life, so I'm really only unhappy that I don't get any more time with him." she finished as brightly as she could, not wanting to put a dampener on the evening.

Stifling a small tired yawn, Kit plonked down on her low bed. "And don't worry about getting a sword. The Captain will be handing out our equipment in the morning, before our first patrol. Which is going to be bloody interesting, let me tell you!" she said with a chuckle. "You should see the Captain! He's as mean as he is handsome..."

"But of course, attractive men aren't the reason I joined the Knights. It's not like we're here to pick out husbands, right? The reason I'm here is that I've been a fighter all my life, and this is the only place that would suit a girl like me." she said, quoting almost verbatum what her father had said to her not 2 years ago. "What about you Jace? Are you a lost cause to the role of wifery and motherdom as I am?" Kit asked with a cheeky grin.

Tag: hitokiri

OOC: Sorry I took so long!

 

OOC: Sorry for being so late, I never even saw my name during my skim throughs. Sorry. By the way, Edward's armor resembles that of Siegfried from Soul Calibur III, only with a soft blue tint to it.

Edward Douglas
Location: Manrenthain, Outside Tavern

Edward shifted in his armor as he dismounted his horse. The darkness had claimed the city once again, thieves and other scum would be out in force tonight. Despite the efforts he and Maximus had made, the streets continued to be riddled with scum at night. They were like roaches, multiplying by the hundreds. You couldn't squash them all, and they just kept growing. However, this was the duty of the Knights. They had to seek out the scum that plagued the streets and deal with them accordingly.

Tonight, however, it was a drunken brawl. At least, that's what it had been apparently. He and Maximus had been drawn to a disturbance outside of a local tavern as a man came flying through the window. However, not all things are as they seem, as they quickly found out it was the working of a Knight undercover. This lone drunkard, however, was not the only disturbance to be found in the tavern as erupted into a seeming free for all brawl.

Maximus was quicker to dismount, as usual, he was always a little too eager. As Maximus went darting into the tavern, Edward unsheathed his sword and looked at it. He'd let the other three deal with the disturbance for the moment. If he was needed he would handle it swiftly this sword.

This sword...

Edward rolled to the left, the tail of the giant beast swinging fiercly to the ground. The green scaled tail trying to find him. Edward came out of the roll, unharmed, and stood, his eyes glaring at the beast. Determined to slay the giant, Edward charged forward. The dragon's left eye, however, was not the damaged one. Quickly, the beast turned toward him and opened its mighty jaws. Edward was moving too fast, momentum was carrying him forward into the waiting jaws of the beast...

Edward shook his head, bringing himself out of his thoughts. His sword was long, sturdy, and heavy. Yet, through the use of it for so many years now, he had come to be able to wield it single handed. The blade itself, while not large in width by any means, was still strong and wide by most standards and was a double-edge. The guard was an intricate and ornate piece of metal art, featuring what appeared to be scrolls and other intricacies of magic as well as an inscription of some kind on the base of the guard. The hilt was tanned leather and the pommel was crafted in the shape of a blue orb held by a dragon's claw.

In holding the sword, it looked normal if not new. However, Edward knew how long he had held this blade. He knew the battles he'd fought with it alongside him. He knew it should be more worn than it was. And he knew the reason that it refused to wear. He knew of its other properties. Silently, everday, he thanked the forger of this blade for it had served him well.

As he waited, he noticed the man Ronan had thrown out trying to scurry away. The little bugger had been playing them for a fool, acting unconcious and the like. This one's not too smart... Edward thought as, with the flick of his wrist, the blade of his sword scattered into a long whip held together by what appeared to be a glowing blue thread of energy. With another flick, the whip shot out and wrapped itself around the man. Edward pulled back hard, forcing the man to him. Edward reached out and grabbed the drunkard as he flew towards him. "I think it's high time I took you to a cell, how about that?" Edward said as he head butted the man. This time there was no playing, he truly was unconcious.

The other Knights would have to deal with the crowd now. Edward couldn't afford to let this man wake up. Loading the drunkard on the back of his cherry wood colored horse, Edward started leading towards the town dungeon.

TAG: Anyone

-~This is no Zaku, Boy. No Zaku!~-

 

IC Maximus Marcellus Leonius
Inside the Bear's Rest, Manrenthain

It seemed as if Maximus' attempt to end the on going scuffle peacefully was in vein. The drunkards continued their causeless struggles against the noble Knights of Manrenthain. The commoners had Ronan and Maximus out-manned, but it was a simple ratio of quanity versus quality. Maximus looked at his sword which he firmly grasped in his hand. These men did not deserve to die at the tip of his sword, they did not deserve an honorable death as such. Maximus' sword was used to slay dragons and dark-elves, not these crazed drunks.

He placed his sword back in the case in which contained it and gave a long, angered stare at the scene infront of him. He slowly began to move towards the center of the brawl in order to assist the over-whelmed Ronan. His heavy chain-mail glistend in the light reflected from the torchers and lunar rays.

Suddenly, a large man came stubbling towards him, Maximus made hardly an attempt to stop him, and it was quite enough to do so. The drunken peasant fell to the ground, and Maximus continued his walk towards the bar where Ronan was clashing with another drunk.

A commoner who was attempting to attack Ronan had his back turned to Maximus. The stoic Knight grabbed his shoulder, twisted him around, and planted a hard fist into his face. The shock sent through his face most likely shattered his cheek bones and jaw. Maximus sided himself with Ronan and began warding off the onslaught of drunks. Shattered glass and teeth were scattered accross the ground, and pieces would at times become airborn.

Maximus made no attempt to arm himself with his sword as his own two fists were enough to incapacitate the attackers.

As he was busying himself with a burley man, a large, pint-sized glass made its way to his head and struck the top of his head. Blood soaked his black, curly hair. Maximus turned and forcefully brought his fist into the weilder of the bottle's face before turning back around to knock the burley man unconcious with a left jab.

TAG-Jeb

OOC-As I was typing this I had the slow build-up of Enter Sandman playing, fight scene seemed a lot cooler with it lol.

 

Firis Alerik Magnusson
Marenthain, near the Tavern

Firis was riding past a nearby tavern when he caught sight of a soldier hauling a drunk away.

He reined in beside him, asking, "Hail, friend. What seems to be the trouble?"

Firis knew he must look out of place, wearing nigh on pure white. Ah well. Perhpas he could learn his way around the city witht his man's help. It had been many years since his last visit.

Tag: BartSimpson-SithLord

 

OOC: Why thank you, -Jeb-. One does try.

Voren'kaa
Inside the Bear's Rest

The lizardman was soon lost in the battle, his scimitar flashing around him as he attacked those who would attack him. What had begun as a simple brawl involving a few rowdy drunkards had escalated into something approaching a riot, with the Knights doing all they could to push back the growing tide of violent commoners. Voren'kaa snarled and hissed in the centre of it all, unbelieving. That these no-scale men were so idiotic, so bloodthirsty that they could show such flagrant disrespect for law! To try and harm and kill here, in the home of their own people! Was this what their strange ale did to the mind? Or was it a corruption that lay in the hearts of all their race? Every species had their own flaw, this Voren'kaa knew from his travels. Men needed to be taught lessons with simple pain.

While the Knights attempted to battle the peasants with fists, Voren'kaa showed no such mercy. Give these men another chance, they will sin again. Give them the mere opportunity to repeat this sorry scenario, and they would seize it. There was no other option in these cases. Moving with incredible speed, the reptilian being darted towards the drunkards, stabbing and slashing at them with his scimitar, causing panic and chaos. His blade entered one man's gut, and cleanly sliced off the head of another, body after body falling to the ground of the tavern beside the lizardman, pools of spilt beer now darkened by showers of thick, red blood. Voren'kaa was relentless; he battled his way forward to try and aid the Knights in the tavern, slaying the drunkards who crossed his path.

Tag: All in Tavern

 

Edward Douglas,
Location: Manrenthain, on the way to the dungeon

The town seemed fairly peaceful at night, which is where the danger lay. The quiet moonlit streets were perfect for unsuspecting travelers to fall prey to those who would lure them. Sure, the quiet town looked peacefull in the stillness of the night air, but it was just a mask covering the ugliness that hid in the darkness.

"Hail, friend. What seems to be the trouble?" A voice came from beside Edward. Edward had heard the horse approaching, but was suprised to find a man nearly clad all in white.

"No problem, just hauling off this troublemaker to the dungeon." Edward said as he kept walking. "It's of no concern to you, but welcome to Manrenthain none the less." He took a chance with the end there, he didn't know this man was a foreigner, but he sure didn't look familiar.

TAG: Penguin

-~This is no Zaku, Boy. No Zaku!~-

 

ATTENTION MEN AND WOMEN OF MANRENTHAIN, AND THEIR VISITORS: I am pleased to say that I have finally had a chance to get caught up (just about) with all of the threads that form a part of the Ultimate Fantasy Community. This is my last stop before I begin the cycle anew, but I suspect it may comprise of more than one update such as this, simply for the time required of me to produce such contributions Whether you realise it or not, I am rather impressed with the quality of the posts, and the skill of the players that have come to join this community.

It seems that this is just the beginning of something great, and I am quite honestly thrilled to be a part of it, joining each and every one of you in shaping what will be a community that we have built and helped to prosper, together I am very grateful for your patience thus far and I will hope that it continues well into the future, so that we might all benefit from the seeds we now sow.

---

[b]Imperial_Hammer[/b]

[i]Twilight[/i] (Before Nightfall)

[i]Wesrah'das Abbey, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith[/i]

[color=blue]She had just come back from a long and lonely journey, yet still there were tasks that required her attention. She headed through stone hallways, which snaked in front of her, up a staircase, left at another hallway, and then right down a third. In front of her, finally, were the thick wooden doors of the Mother Superior's chambers.

[b]Mezzanie[/b] took a moment to breathe in and collect herself. The priestesses always said that one must be focused to properly present oneself to the Mother Superior. They said that she could sense a troubled mind. Breathe in. Breathe out. [b]Mezzanie[/b] raised her hand to knock on the doorway and waited to be acknowledged by the powerful woman of the Abbey. Only, her hand paused before making contact with timber surface.

There were voices within the room; hushed tones revealed a presence within the chamber beyond. She had not noticed the fierce whispers while her footfalls echoed throughout the corridor. And she had been so busy trying to calm herself that she failed to observe the thin seam of yellow light that spilled through the open doorway. It was an odd thing, really. The Mother Superior rarely entertained guests and she never left her door open, not even ajar, like it was now. [b]Mezzanie[/b] could not to begin to guess what she heard, she could not be sure she heard anything at all, especially when a firm word of surprise leapt at her, as if to scare her out of her skin.

"Mezzanie!" said the Mother Superior from down the hall, as she made her brisk and otherwise threatening approach. "Where have you been? You should have sent word!" The [b]Mother Superior[/b] crossed the distance between them so quickly she was standing toe-to-toe with Mezzanie in a matter of moments, the latter forced backward by the former's ample breast. "What are you doing back so late!" It was not a question.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, [b]Mezzanie[/b] thought she heard surprise from within the chambers before she lost all focus on the voices and found herself submitting before the Mother Superior's verbal assault. "Come with me, young lady!" the woman said, as she took hold of Mezzanie's wrist and dragged her into the scullery.

"There's work to be done for those so wide awake to be about wandering in the night." The [b]Mother Superior[/b] released her vice grip and gestured toward the dirty dishes, pots and pans. "Now, now, don't be shy, they won't bite!" Her frown was heavy and her tone firm as she gave order for [b]Mezzanie[/b] to get to work.

The Mother Superior stood in the doorway, her fists on her hips, since her arms could not comfortably fold across her bounteous chest. There the firm woman stood before she finally huffed and raised her hand. Se wiggled her index finger warningly. "And, do not stay up through the entire night!" she cautioned, as if to suggest there were an alternative to the impossible.

[b]Mezzanie[/b] heard the Mot

 

GENERAL ANNOUNCEMENT: I am pleased to report that we are fully updated in as far as the events within the City of Manrenthain are concerned. For those of you involved, I hope you have as much fun with reading and responding to this update as I did reading your posts and writing this in response to them For everyone who is not involved in this scenario, or present within this city, which might be half of you, I will be working to address you as soon as possible. You have certainly not been forgotten. In the meantime, I encourage you to read the events of this thread that have taken place to-date, and/or, drop in to visit and read some of the happenings within the other threads that comprise the Ultimate Fantasy Community

---

[color=red]What can I say? Really? The scenario at the Bar's Rest became a lot more active, a lot quicker than I ever anticipated. Not surprisingly it is, without a doubt, the most active and eventful occurrence we've seen since this game started, just over a week ago :p I strongly recommend all involved in that scenario to read this post in its entirety. There are two parts, each of which focuses on a set group of characters, yet they both come together to form the one event and scenario.

[b]Dark-Enigma[/b], I'm glad you could make it. I have no doubt that you will have many opportunities to get in on some of the action yet to come ;) Feel free to follow, watch or otherwise comment, IC, as to the meeting between [b]BartSimpson-SithLord[/b] (Edward Douglas, a Knight of Manrenthain) and [b]Penguinator-176[/b] (Firis Alerik Magnusson, a visitor from lands far south west of Manrenthain). Whatever the three of you choose to do, I am thankful for your participation up until this point, and can only hope you enjoy what I have prepared for you below.

As to those still within the Rest, you certainly kept me busy and entertained. [b]Winged_Jedi[/b], I enjoy the insight you've provided into your character's sense of honour and morality. I look forward to future developments in that regard. [b]YoungAngus[/b], your noble and humble, yet eager Knight was a fun character to watch in and out of action. I'll be interested to see whether you can remain true to the personality you've created for him. [b]-Jeb-[/b], you are a force to be reckoned with. Ronan is one bad dude, I'll have to keep an eye on him and hope never to cross his path or end up at the opposite end of his blade, or, indeed, his fist. And, last, but not least, [b]KOTORFan8[/b], I hope we haven't lost you already! I suspect that this summary update will help. We'll expect you to jump in as soon as you're able.[/color]

[b]YoungAngus, -Jeb-, KOTORFan8, Winged_Jedi[/b]

[i]Twilight[/i] (Before Nightfall)

[i]Bear's Rest, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith[/i]

[color=blue]It had been no more than an hour since the sun crept beneath the horizon and already the Bear's Rest was in an uproar. What began as an inappropriate remark from Abram "the Hammer" to a young serving girl, turned into a small scuffle and then an all out brawl. [b]Ronan[/b] had already thrown the instigator, Abram, out through a glass window, and into the street for his ungentlemanly behaviour. It was, quite literally, the opening for all chaos to be unleashed.

[b]Voren'kaa[/b], a lizardman, and visitor to Manrenthain--the City of Men--had been passing by the Rest when Abram was propelled into the cobblestone street. To [b]Voren'kaa[/b], an obvious foreigner, there was trouble brewing within the disorderly tavern. The lizardman rushed inside with such a burst of speed that all [b]Ronan[/b] saw as he stepped into the street was a blur of clothing from a strange land.

One brief, sweeping gaze from the reptilian man told him all he needed to know. Tables had been knocked over, glasses had been shattered, their tasteless ales and wines spilt, and, in the centre of the scene stood a huge, drunken burly man, in combat with a Knight, who seemed to be struggling to subdue the thug.

That Knight was none

 

Firis Alerik Magnusson
Marenthain

Firis was more than a little lost. City folk were quite busy people, it seemed. But, this man was hauling someone off to the prisons. He must be a civil servant, and Firis knew that they were often quite knowledgeable about their city.

He rode near him, then decided to speak up.

"I'm very sorry to bother you so, but, I'm quite...lost." he said with a sheepsih expression.

Tag: BaSSiL

 

Edward Douglas
Manrenthain

The man continued to follow Edward, he could hear. Oh well, it wasn't as if the man in white was impeeding his progress to the prisons any. So Edward continued, letting the man follow.

"I'm very sorry to bother you so, but, I'm quite...lost." he said with a sheepsih expression.

Edward stopped leading his horse and turned to the man in white with an apologetic look on his face. "I kind of gathered that, stranger. However, I must take this man to the prisons. If you don't mind that being our first stop on a tour of this town, feel free to follow me." He continued walking, caling back, "If you do intend on following me, though, keep close as these streets aren't as safe at night as you might think."

TAG: Penguin

-~This is no Zaku, Boy. No Zaku!~-

 

Penguinator-176, Dark-Enigma, BartSimpson-SithLord

Prison Gates, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

Lost though he was, the stranger was not without sound judgement and direction. He recognised the Knight hauling someone along, and imagined that the Knight was some form of civil servant. That meant the man would likely be quite knowledgeable about the vast city.

Soon the visitor was riding alongside the Knight, who offered to show the visitor through the city. Firis was still a stranger in a foreign land, but at least he was a welcome one. He followed the local man's lead, and the two neared the inner depths of the city's borders where a lonely structure awaited them.

Firis Magnusson did not need to know what the building was to guess its purpose. The prison was surrounded by high walls, and only possessed a single gate, which was guarded, on the outside, by two men clad in heavy plate armour; beyond the gate, behind the walls, was an open courtyard, filled with the glowing light provided by torches that were positioned at regular intervals through the entire inner perimeter; and, patrols of archers walked along the walls, watching for movements in the glowing light.

A shadowy figure walked toward them from the dark building. He was clad in light armour, and carried only a short sword in the scabbard at his side. Two taller, heavy-set guards flanked him, but they did not speak. The central man looked from Firis to Edward, a curious expression on his face.

"What have you brought us this time, Edward?" asked the prison keeper. "Another one for the dungeon?" Frowning then, he glanced once more to Firis questioningly. The keeper shrugged slightly and motioned for the two guards that had accompanied him to relieve Edward of the drunkard.

Perhaps they would release the man once he was sober, after he enjoyed a hangover through the sound of ringing bells that would wake the City of Men in the morning, and give the poor prisoner a splitting headache.




Dark-Enigma, you may, of course, follow and/or join in.

 

IC: Mezzanie Ti
Location: The Kitchen, Wesrah'das Abbey, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith

Mezzanie stood at the sink. She opened her mouth. Then she closed it.

Then she opened it again.

What???

How did...?

But....

Mezzanie closed her mouth.

Guess her mind wasn't focused enough.

The priestess looked at the stack of dirty dishes piled high in the sink. How could a bunch of women eat so much? The matter was really astounding. Mezzanie would not have been suprised if Mother Superior had purposely been saving these dishes for her. Probably let them sit for every day she was late. So as "a lesson would be learned" or some garbage.

Mezzanie stopped up the sink and walked outside to the well to pump up some water. She didn't even get a chance to tell Mother Superior about the thieves! How could she have gotten back on time when she had to constantly be fending off the highwaymen that lurked on the roads of Callanthorith. And then to make sure they didn't hurt themselves after they had realized the error of their mistake. That was another adventure in and of itself.

Mezzanie gave a little grunt as she picked up the two heavy buckets of ice cold water and dragged them back into the kitchen. This was just going to be dandy. Yes... she supposed she could have told Mother Superior all the reasons why she was late. Would it have made a difference? Probably not.

The Priestess tipped over the two buckets of water and threw some lye into the mixture. And she was supposed to get this all done without making it late??? She hoped Mother Superior had been practicing her time bubble charm, because she would need it.

The woman tied an apron around her waist and looked up to her soft, clean ivory hands.

Nice knowing ya.

Mezzanie looooved doing the dishes

TAG: Myself, LSA if he wants it

 

ATTENTION VISITORS AND RESIDENTS OF QUANDANLORE: It took me a while, but I've finally managed to scrape some free time together and have used it to develop an opening scenario for those players and characters that wished to begin within Quandanlore. I do hope it is to your liking, and that it is enough of an introduction to give you something to work with. As always, I welcome any questions, and will seek to address anyone else I have yet to tag, before too long.

MasterTiin, Saber_Leader

Twilight (Before Nightfall)

Golden Sun, Quandanlore, Callanthorith

Born in Callanthorith and loyal to the region that his eyes first opened to see upon birth, the traveller and merchant known as Jaminon felt fortunate to be alive. He had lived within the region for all his forty years and had travelled to see a great part of the world, though very little outside of the borders of Callanthorith. Yet despite his experience he could not recall having ever seen such vast prosperity and such great diversity of peoples living in peace within one single city.

While he suspected many would agree, the merchant could not help feel some awe and blessing for having lived within the Trade City; he felt Quandanlore was a place of absolute peace. The subconscious skip in his step as he strolled past the smithy, and glanced to the bakery, before entering the Golden Sun inn, was a sure sign of his bright spirits.

He walked straight to the barman and ordered a glass of house wine, smiling pleasantly as he placed a couple of copper coins on the bar. Jaminon was in too good a mood to notice anyone that might have been watching him, and he did not know better than to allow his purse to jingle with each step as his coins slapped against one another. He was, for all to see, a clearly successful merchant.

Montoa Palotomage felt his ears twitch slightly at the sound of the slapping coins. He was born in Ennathe, but was not a wood elf himself, at least, not entirely. It was difficult for a half-elf to be accepted, particularly among his young peers. Perhaps that was why Montoa was in Quandanlore, or how he came to be in the Merchant City, a place so diverse with visitors from any number of realms that almost anyone could find safety and anonymity within its walls.

He looked away from the merchant, and glanced around the common room of the inn. Montoa's eyes finally settled upon one Talnox 'Tal' Yenas, another half-elf. It took one to know one, as the saying went. Yet even as Montoa observed the other being he knew there was something different about him, something that he could not quite place.

Darth_Joesha, Darth_Vaders_cousin, Dahlia_Santary

Twilight (Before Nightfall)

In the open road outside the Golden Sun, Quandanlore, Callanthorith

A cool breeze blew through the street, lifting loose soil into the air, and throwing it at the young human female, Maya Yubari. She was an attractive girl, and her dark black hair seemed to shine in the twilight that came between day and night. With darkness drawing nearer, and temperatures dropping, however, it seemed prudent to seek shelter.

Maya recognised the inn by name. She lived in Quandanlore, in a modest shelter she called her home. And, she knew the Golden Sun only too well. It was far less rowdy than the taverns and inns in her homeland of Manrenthain, and attracted a more civil clientele. She found herself walking towards it. Yet something gave her pause.

A stranger walked toward the Sun's main entrance, dressed darkly, a shadow in the night. Ombre'esclave hugged the inn's outer wall before disappearing through the doorway. He was only too aware that there were eyes on him, but Derk was inside, and it would not do for them to remain apart for too long. Stealth was best, and avoiding unwanted attention was paramount.

Maya just watched it all with a curious eye. She was tempted

 

IC: Ombre'Esclave
The Golden Sun, Quandanlore, Callanthorith

The sun was finishing it's cycle, as Dark Elf Ombre'Esclave entered the the tavern outside of which he had been waiting. Watching.

For that was what he did. What his people were best at, save fighting. Waiting for something to happen. Watching it happen. Reporting it to their owner...master....what ever you wanted to call it. At least, for those dark elves who left their homeland...be their master's the elders or some to which they owed a life debt.

So far, this seemed to be a respectable place of merriment. For as long as he'd been outside it's doors...a good 15 minutes...maybe longer....there hadn't been a single fight. Which, considering the places his master usually entered, was a miracle.

But, he was worried now. What had Derk said they were to do here? Was it another meeting...or were they finally going to corner that Merchant they'd been following for so long?

Really, with this master, he wasn't sure exactly what they were doing at any time. Some days they were robbing the rich...others they were giving to the poor. Some days they were fighting the good fight...and others fighting for the bad. They were drifters...that was true...in both location and occupation.

As he stepped into the tavern, he was hit with the usuall sights, sounds, and smells. Contrary to the implications in it's name, the Golden Sun was just as dimmly lit as every other tavern he had ever entered. It smelled of dirt and dust, spilt beer and bad food. And, all around him, was noise. Clinking of glasses, laughter, hushed voices and loud, singing and crying. Typical of every tavern he'd been to. What made this one different, for what reason he wasn't sure, was the lack of vomit, blood, and any other bodily fluids.

Plus, the large fire burning along the far wall was quite refreshing...save that it gave off light. If there was one thing he hated, it was light.

He kept along the wall, hidding in the shadows, eyes scanning the room.

And then he spotted his master...Just a few tables down...in a booth against the wall. Good. He quickly and quietly made his way over the the table, and took a seat.

---

[b]IC: Derk
[/b][i]Golden Sun, Quandanlore

[/i]Derk sat at a small booth along the wall just to the right of the entrance of a small tavern named the [i]Golden Sun[/i].

In front of him sat a Quart of cheap ale...and on his face a drunken grin. He wasn't drunk...far from it infact...but it put people at ease. Grin alot...slur your words...and people get comfortable.

People were idiots.

He sat at the small table watching. People came and went...spent a little money and what not...but nothing big enough to warrant the risk of a hiest.

That was untill a new merchant walked into the tavern, coin purse jangling with every step he took.

He grinned...that was their mark. Rich bugger, spent his money willy-nilly and let it hang out for all to see...he was fortunate to be alive at this point.

He definatly looked like he never missed a meal...and a few crumbs hanging from his pants assured Derk that the man never had.

Derk on the other hand, was forced to share what meager meals he found with his partener in crime, Ombre. He resented men like this. Who had much while others had little. While he had little.

Truth was...Quandanlore had been horrible to them. It was a realitively peaceful city...and most fights that started were over before teh guard could get there...much less some one die. Judging by the fact that 99% of people had both of their hands meant that this was either a leniant town...or theivery wasn't a way of life here...atleast not for those desperate enough to get caught.

Derk hadn't eaten in 2 days...and he hadn't seen Ombre eat for a week. He'd bought the Quart in front of him with a quick slight of hand trick where he "collected" money from the counter when the bar tender was buisiest...then used it to buy a drink.

And even that would be shared with his friend...slave yes...but still his friend.

 

Hammered out with GM

Character Sheets

Name: Yavinelf Dangerrescue
Species (Lifeform): half-elf. Human/elf hybrid. Tan-green pallor. Can use elf-specific weapons and some magic.
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Faction (Allegiance): Neutral (Ranger)
Organisation: Surefall Paramedics (Rescue Ranger)
Home: Searching.
Place of Birth: Surefall Glades, Antonica continent.


Name: Yavscout
Species (Lifeform): Elf. Shorter, slimmer, and weaker than humans of comparative age. Pale tan-green skin. Pointed ears.
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Faction (Allegiance): Neutral (Druid)
Organisation: Surefall Paramedics (paramedic scout)
Home: Searching.
Place of Birth: Surefall Glades, Antonica continent.


Name: Debgate
Species (Lifeform): Barbarian. Large stature human
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Faction (Allegiance): Neutral (Shaman)
Organisation: Surefall Paramedics
Home: Searching.
Place of Birth: Halas, Antonica continent.

---

[b]Pictures[/b]

Debgate ([link=http://www.geocities.com/acenhunter/maps/debturn.jpg]picture[/link])
Yavinelf on left of picture, Yavscout on right ([link=http://www.geocities.com/acenhunter/maps/surefall.jpg]Surefall paramedics logo[/link])

[b]IC: Yavscout[/b]

[i][color=green]The rescue had gone wrong, and in that most dangerous of locations, [b]Paineel[/b].

They had received a mental impression that their small colleague, the Brell-worshipping gnome rogue, [b]Dragnet[/b] had run into trouble, deep in the subterranean city, and although he was the only one that could get in and out of the realm undetected, Yavscout, Yavinelf, and Debgate had converged on the site, memorised spells and descended.

Somehow, disaster. Their only protection from discovery in the hostile environment was their invisibility shields.
Deb's had dropped; the druid had dropped his own to cast a fresh one on her, and then they were detected and attacked - Elementals and rat warriors.
Like an idiot, a brave idiot, mind; their half-elf leader, the Ranger Yavinelf, had abandoned his invis' to jump into the fray.

Barely staying ahead of the baying city inhabitants, they had taken the only choice left to them, escaping through a dimensional breach at the very bottom of the city, to another world, a place known to Antonican historians as the Plane of Underfoot-
[/color][/i]

"Vong!" Yavscout sat up from his bunk, sweat pouring off his forehead, his shirt damp.

Debgate looked over to him in sympathy, and dabbed a soaked cloth onto his head, soothing him.

"It's okay. You were dreaming."

It wasn't okay. As a pure elf, Yavscout had suffered the most in this world gone mad. No, that wasn't fair; it just wasn't their world.

It was nigh-on impossible to find magical power lines to tap into, to replenish their mana reserves. None of them had cast a spell within an hour of arriving here, and that had been months ago.
Now, their lives had three long term objectives:
- Find Dragnet. They were beginning to suspect he had never come through as they had.
- Find a source of mana and reclaim their abilities. Perhaps they could Gate, an emergency teleportation that should return them to their bind points, back in Antonica;
- Find a way home. Gods, please. A way home.

They were on a ship right now, a scow approaching the island realm of [b]Callanthorith[/b] from the South West.
If, Tunare forbid, they couldn't find the answers they sought there, they might have to settle there, live out their lives as exiles.

[b]Tag: no-one[/b] (unless you are on our ship too)

 

OOC: I would like to join this, i'll just PM the GM eith my Character once i get the chance.

 

IC: Jacelyn Notae
Female Barracks; Twilight

Jacelyn opened her mouth to answer the older woman across form her without a clear idea of how she would be able to explain why she was here. However, as chance would have it, a voice decided to come from the other side of the door and spared her an explanation.

?May I come in??

At the sound of the muffled voice, Jacelyn?s dark eyes glanced over to the woman beside her. Being the youngest of the pair, she wondered if she should take the step forward and open the door to the voice or not. However, as if to save her the trouble, the door was unlocked with a click and slowly pushed open.

A figure was silliuited in the doorway, dressed in a man?s garb but with the curves of a woman. As she watched, a slender hand was pulled above the woman?s head to remove the hood that had covered an amber hair and clear blue eyes.

Words fell quickly from a pink mouth and the golden head dipped as the younger woman spoke. A slight hesitation in her words and Jacelyn watched as her expression changed with the weight of what she was telling them.

?Going away?? Tomorrow?? Her thoughts swam as her ears listened to what the girl had to say. Suddenly, as her voice made a swift crescendo toward desperate, the younger woman ran into Katlin?s arm, her face buring itself into the fabric of her tunic as tears slide down her face.

Jacelyn didn?t know what to think of this woman, who seemed to be not much older then her. As Jacelyn contemplated and surveyed the new arrival a small slip of parchment fluttered to the ground. As looked at for a moment and bent to pick it up.

Her brown eyes read the scribbled letters and she reread it again. Something about the name Regneroth seemed to ring a bell in the inner depths of her mind, however it was fleeting and slipped out of her grasp.

Glancing at the girl, who seemed to be glued to her new companion, she wondered what the connection of the girl?s words to the letter she had just read. Perhaps one of the two names was part of the military, she thought as her eyes flickered to the surname attached to the first of the of them.

Looking up at Kit she folded the parchment in half and placed it inside her tunic. They couldn?t do anything with the girl in this state.

Tag: PulserSkate

OOC: Sorry about the repetitive post and the long wait. End of Third Quarter and I?ve been running around like a headless chicken trying to get things done and finishing make up tests.

 

Approved

CHARACTER SHEET
Name: Lyra Nall
Species (Lifeform): Human (Necromancer)
Gender: Female
Age: 21
Physical Discription: Tall, slender, delecate features. Long black hair, green eyes, pale skin. A charter mark on the side of her face... it is a mark made from magic and is only visible when a Charter Mage is around, or she is using Charter Magic herself.
[image=http://img96.imageshack.us/img96/8189/lyra5br.jpg]
Faction (Allegiance): none, she is a Necromancer of the charter of life... her allegiance is to life... and keeping the dead dead
Home: she's nomadic, moving from place to place, keeping the dead dead, her bandolier of bells across her chest.
Place of Birth: Unknown, rumors say she was born within the dark relm, and was a still born, her father, a necromancer himself, pulled her back into life agenst his own beliefs... hence why he banished himself to exile.


Opening post to come after a bit of tweeking is done.

 

Lyra Nall- Necromancer
Aveena, Free Lands

Aveena, a small village on the border of the free lands beyond the Relm of Men and far away from the the Dark Relm, was lacking human activity. The only activity that could be seen was a few people peeking out their windows and the village elders who quickly ushered Lyra towards the center of town.

Years of dealing with the dead could be seen in Lyra's tired expression. If she were to smile, the young woman could easily be attractive with her hair of ebony and large emerald eyes. Her pale complextion and her lack of muscles almost made her look ill, but the life in her eyes said otherwise.

As the elders led her, Lyra took a large wiff of the sea air. It was filled with death. Death wasn't really a scent, but more of something Lyra had learned to identify the past seven years. The sun dissapeared behind the clouds, and the Charter mark on the left of Lyra's face flashed in a silvery rainbow, then dissapeared once again. Ahead of her was the town center, surrounded by a moat filled with knee deep water which was flowing in the circle. A powerfull Charter Mage must have put the spell on the water to keep it moving.

The dead hated moving water. It reminded them of death, which consisted of seven gates, all connected to a neverending flow of water. Behind eachgate, the water became more powerfull, and the water before the seventh and final gate was unbareable. No one could resist it's flow. It was a gate Lyra had no intentions of visiting untill right before she passed through the last gate of death.

As she stepped into the water, Lyra ran her fingers over the seven bells on the bandolier, each calling out to her. SHe had learned early in her training to never give into the calls of the bells; that she was the master, not the other way around. The bells were in order smallest to largest, the smallest being at the top by her right shoulder and the largest being by her left hip. As her finger touched eachone, their names and purposes ran through her head.

First was Ranna the Sleepbringer, the smallest. It was a rang a sweet, low sound that brings silence in its wake. After that was Mosrael, the waker. A harsh, rowdy bell. The bell whose sound was a seesaw, throwing the ringer futher into Death as it brings the listener into life. Kibeth, the walker, was a bell of sweet sounds, a difficult and countrary bell. It could give the freedom of movement to one of the dead, or walk them throught the next gate. Dyrim, a musical bell, of clear and pretty tone was after Kibeth. Dyrim could return the voice that the Dead have so often lost, but can also still the tongue that moves too freely. Below Dyrim was Belgaer, another tricksome bell that seeks to ring of its own accord. The thinking bell, the bell most necromencers scorn to use. It can restore independent thought, memory, and all the patterns of a living person. But, if used in careless hands, could easily erase them. Sareneth, the deepest, lowest bell, sounds of strength and is know as the binder. It is the bell that sheckles the dead to the wielder's will. The lowest bell on the bandolier Asterael, the Sorrowful. The banisher, the final bell. Properly rung, it casts everyone who hears it far into Death. Everyone... including the ringer.

Lyra looked at the army of dead, most of which were made of decomposed bodies. They moaned and groaned as they waited for her just past the water's edge. She was going to have to walk them past the first and second gate so that they wouldn't come back. Each bell begging to be let loose of it's leather holder, Lyra unleased Kibeth, the walker. Without hessitation, she swun the bell in a counterclockwise motion, creating a sweet and clear ring which was caught in the ears of all the dead. Charter marks escaped Lyra's mouth as she ordered the dead beyond the second gate of death.

A cold breeze blew over Lyra as they reentered death. Only a handfull of beings could feel death... most of those few became Necromancers. And only one line of Necromancers had ever been agents of the

 

IC Maximus Marcellus Leonius
Inside the Bear's Rest, Manrenthain

As Maximus busied himself with a drunken patron, the sounds of flesh being sliced was audible. He turned his head and saw a figure which was not common in Manrenthain. A tall, scaley lizard-like man moved with quick and accurate speed as he gutted the drunkards. The attackers dropped one after another as they made a vein attempt to stop the green beast.

Maximus ended the brawl with his opponent with a swift punch to the jaw. He turned and watched in awe at the mysterious helper. Maximus wondered why this outsider was helping the knights. He had no place in Manrenthain. Maximus had seen this species before during his travels and he came to know they were deadly fighters.

As the final commoner fell, and the last drop of blood hit the floor, the Knights and the lizard were the last standing. Bodies were scattered accross the ground. Most were killed at the hands of the mysterious beast. Maximus wiped the blood from his nose. He was proud he did not have to use his sword. That was only as a last resort.

He now turned to the green beast. He had helped the Knights, but he had also slaughtered half the occupants in the Bear's Rest.

"What is your bussiness in Manrenthain?" Maximus questioned in a stern tone.

TAG-YoungAngus, -Jeb-, KOTORFan8, Winged_Jedi

 

IC as Tal Yenas
Twilight (Before Nightfall)
Golden Sun, Quandanlore, Callanthorith

Tal sat back in his seat as he enjoyed a local brew. The Golden Sun had the best beer he'd had, and he'd been to many inns and taverns across the continent. The only downside of it right now was the fact that he was sitting here meant he didn't have a job. He didn't really mind having some free time to work with his growing abilities, but Tal knew the reality that was money. Anywhere you went, you needed hard currency to buy anything, from beer to rooms. Besides, components for his spells cost money when they wheren't readily available. Some of them were downright rare, and therefore expensive.

Tal watched the merchant cross to the bar. He had obviously had never ran into the less savourly groups of the city, as he still carried a full moneypouch in plain view. Not my problem, Tal thought as he signaled for a refill. If he's stupid enough to carry all that moeny, he's not worth introducing myself too. Not until I'm really desperate, at least.

Sipping his fresh drink, Tal continued his glance around the room. It seemed like a typical night, but he did catch another half-elf that he didn't know watching him. What's his problem? Is he here about that botched job in Manrenthain? I'd better keep an eye on him in case he tries something.

Tag: LS_A, MasterTiin

 

Montoa Palotomage:
Sunset
Golden Sun, Quandanlore, Callanthorith.

Montoa sat quietly in the noisy bar observing another half elf. Half elfs were rare even in this multispecies city but he had noticed many who had tried to disguise themselves as one or the other during his years roaming the lands. This one was different though but how he couldn't quite place. His pointed ears perked at an overly loud conversation going on between two travellers next to him. It sounded like they were talking of movements of some unknown warlord he had never heard of and how he was preparing to crush Quandanlore. He suppressed a snort. These rumours were always floating around and over three quarters of the time they were false. The half elf turned around to face Montoa and he quickly looked down at his whisky intently. He soon turned back and Montoa looked up again. He polished off his drink and strode outside the bar content that his thirst had been quenched. He strode briskly back to his lodgings to avoid getting caught by one of the human gangs that roam some of the backstreets at night that the city guard knew nothing about. The cool dusk wind blew softly against him making his cape flow out from under him. He heard a horse whiny in the distance and strode on as the sun fell further from the horizon. He rounded a corner and something caught his attention from a rooftop. He peered up and saw nothing was there.

"Cats..." he muttered to himself as he kept going through the dark city. In the distance bells rang unneededly to announce nightfall. He popped out of the alleyway and onto what was a main road. Many people and not to mention horses were on it. He weaved through the traffic to the other side when a blood-curdling scream emitted nearby. None of the humans on the road heard it but Montoa with his advanced hearing did and he rushed over there and found a female dead on the ground; blood pooling from a spot where an arrow hit her. Montoa gasped as he saw the insignia on the arrow. It was his own. He heard loud voices that belonged to the city guard approach and he darted into the shadows.

Tag: LS_A, others

 

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: If you are wondering why you have not been tagged, or would like to be, and/or just want to be a part of this community before it grows too fast and great for you to keep up with, please send me a Private Message. There is a reason why you have not been tagged, and I will be more than willing to explain why that is. Everyone else, I hope you're comfortable.

---

[b]MasterTiin, Saber_Leader, Darth_Vaders_cousin[/b]

[i]Twilight[/i] (Nightfall)

[i]Golden Sun, Quandanlore, Callanthorith[/i]

[color=blue][b]Jaminon[/b] took no notice of the comings and goings of strangers within the Golden Sun. His back was turned to the main door as he sipped his beverage of choice at the bar, oblivious as to [b]Montoa Palotomage's[/b] hasty departure. "My thanks," he said to the bartender, as he slid a copper coin across the smoothly cut and polished timber surface between them.

And, with that, the merchant turned to search for a place to sit. There were a number of patrons within the Sun, and a spot alone seemed a rare commodity. [b]Jaminon[/b] looked around as he walked, hoping to find a vacant seat. It just so happened that [b]Montoa[/b] had left just such a place behind. The last such place, actually, since the entire establishment appeared filled to capacity.

[b]Tal Yenas[/b] watched the man's movements, only too well aware of the jingling coins within the merchant's pockets. Several other patrons eyed the trader, too, but none moved against him. Quandanlore was filled with merchants and wealthy traders, and also a number of poor ones. They had nothing to fear since the city was protected day and night, and in between.

Yet among them was someone far more daring, and perhaps more capable. [b]Derk[/b] could only imagine what wealth the merchant might be carrying, what riches the man may have access to. Fortune seemed to smile upon him for his proximity to such an easy target. It was a pity he was not outside the city, where he would be free of watchful eyes and good-doers.[/color]

[color=red]Please see the description below for a reminder of the present location and setting. It is my hope that it will help to enrich the Role Playing experience for this scenario, and any others that take place within Quandanlore. With time, these places will become familiar to you, and such references will not be as necessary as they might be now.[/color]

[color=green][u][b]Quandanlore[/b][/u]

Initially conceived and constructed from an alliance between diverse communities within the region of Callanthorith, the city of Quandanlore (also known as the 'Trade City' or the 'Merchant City') is a place of peace and prosperity. Its administration is conducted by a City Council, simply referred to as the 'Council', which is comprised of one representative from each of a number of major communities within the land of Callanthorith. Some of the more commonly known communities include, Alfheim, the Queen's Realm, also called the 'Faerie Realm', and Manrenthain, which is the largest human settlement within the region.

Quandanlore is primarily a trade centre, and is frequented by merchants and travellers. Its few permanent residents are owners of inns, taverns, and other such establishments. Very few dark beings and creatures are known to visit the area, but some have managed to enter and exit the city without notice or capture. With this in mind, the Council has formed and granted authority to a City Watch, which is charged with the protection of the city, particularly from outsiders. A City Guard has also been formed to protect the Council itself, and any visitors to the city.[/color]

[color=red][u][b]Note:[/b][/u] Quandanlore is located within the general vicinity around and between the grid-marked cells of K-43 to K-48.[/color]

[hr]

[b]Imperial_Hammer[/b]

[i]Twilight[/i] (Nightfall)

[i]Wesrah'das Abbey, City of Men, Manrenthain, North Eastern Callanthorith[/i]

[color=blue]Cleaning was not a terrible task in and of itself, but cleaning up the filth of oth