Fantasy CLOSED The Final Game: A Story of Selenia

GM Approved and ready to rumble...

Name: Nyruel Guldor
Gender: Male
Age: 312
Race: Drow
Physical description:

• Height: 5ft 11in
• Weight: 150 lbs
• Skin color: See Above
• Hair color: See Above
• Eye color: See Above

Personality:

• Quirks: Pompous, Proud, and Arrogant. Is known to easily dismiss non-elves, however, if they are able to make a good enough point then he will listen.
• Likes: Magic, Logic, Knowledge, Other Drow
• Dislikes: All non-Drow races, non-magic users
• Strengths: Skilled in magic, and undead magic practices
• Weaknesses: Poor in physical combat

Weapons: Magical Staff, Daggers, Magic

Short Bio: Born in Reemond, the capital of the Drow Kingdom he was born to a noble family. His every want and need was granted, he was cultivated to be proud of his heritage, in the supremacy of the Drow and their magical capabilities. When he was of age he set off into the world to further his studies of becoming a powerful warlock. He set off for Huiz Guo, the sister Drow state, during his travels he came across many other races, and each time he did he was disappointed with how truly patheic they were. Only the Elves of Qedraerhiel were able to garner his 'respect'.

In time the god Anubis took note of the Nyruel's activities and growing power, finding a small fondness in the seriousness and grand purpose that he carried himself with everything Anubis decided to make him his champion in this little game he was playing.


Character Sheet for the God/Goddess:

Name: Anubis
Gender: Male
Age: I am the God of Death you think my age is of any consequence?
Pantheon: Egyptian
Physical description:

• Height: Variable
• Weight: Variable
• Skin color: See Above
• Hair color: N/A
• Eye color: See Above

Personality:

• Quirks: Is deadpan and serious in everything he does. When Anubis says he'll do something, he'll do it.
• Likes: Those that pay their respects, Magic, Death, Mummification, Tombs.
• Dislikes: Rudeness, insincerity, lies, graverobbers.
• Strengths: Extremely powerful in terms of magical ability, strong domain on the dead
• Weaknesses: Doesn't understand sarcasm, easy to make fun of him and it go right over his head, takes everything literally.

Short Bio:
Anubis, The Jackal God, God of Death, the Afterlife, and Mummification. Grand Psychopomp of the Underworld. Anubis is many things but a loser is not one of them. He holds great sway over the beings of Selenia. For he may be the God of Death but he offers hope. Hope of life after death. His worshippers form into one of two main categories: those that ask for his divine powers or blessing, allowing them to conjure the dark magic of the world or those that seek admittance into the afterlife.

While he maintains his deadly serious composure at all times that does not mean he is incapable of fun, he enjoys the games that he and the other gods play. Failure is not an option, not only due to his competitive nature but if they lose, if all the mortals die in Selenia, well, he will have a lot of work to do.

 

Approved by our Supreme Leader @darthbernael

( guess-starring: @Sinrebirth )

************************************************

Character Sheet for Champions:

Name: Xenos Jehuty

Gender: Male

Age: 21

Race: human

Physical description:

• Height; 6’2”
• Weight: 180 lbs
• Skin color: Light Tan
• Hair color: Dark Brown
• Eye color: Light brown

Personality:

• Quirks: Gregarious, Brash, Temperamental, Adventurous
• Likes/dislikes: Likes a Good Fight, Fairness, dislikes Deception.
• Strengths/weaknesses: Strong Intuition, Dogmatic. Too Trusting.

Weapons: 4 Blades ( 2 with spiked knuckle guards )

Short Bio: Xenos was raised by his mother, Althea, who was a kind hearted woman, a worshiper of Ma’at. He never knew his father, Samhain, though he learned of him through his mother, as well as the soldiers that had known him. These men trained Xenos in the art of mortal combat and also introduced him to his father’s diety.


Xenos was destined to a life of a soldier, to become a sellsword and mercenary. He joined a band of soldiers for hire as soon as he was able as he set out to seek his fortune. As fate would have it, his first adventure would have him be the only survivor of a bloody skirmish. An incident which has caused him to make life changing choices as he attempts to honor both his parents and their tenets.

Character Sheet for the God/Goddess:

Name: Ma’at

Gender: Female

Age: millennia

Pantheon: Egyptian

Physical description:


◦ Height: (varies)

• Weight: (varies)
• Skin color: Tan
• Hair color: Black
• Eye color: Gold

Personality: Kind

• Quirks: Enjoys funny stories
• Likes/dislikes: Charity, dislikes injustice
• Strengths/weaknesses: Can see the good in a being, but is affronted by cruelty.

Short Bio: Ma’at presides over truth, justice, harmony and balance and bestows favor unto those who keep her ways. She is also tasked in keeping harmony and balance amongst her fellow deities, which can be challenging more often than not.


****


Character Sheet for the God/Goddess:





Name: Samhain

Gender: Male, ostensibly

Age: Millennia, obviously

Pantheon: I mean the Celts gave me a decent enough name, (though it's a common misnomer that Samhain is a God, which just appeals to me), but like any good God I have a few. You may know me as the Atrisian God of Disguise, for example.

Physical description (picture if applicable):

• Height; Taller than Ma'at
• Weight: Heavier than Ma'at
• Skin color: Ask Ma'at
• Hair color: Ask Ma'at
• Eye color: Yellow-white

Personality:

• Quirks: You'd be better off asking what quirks I don't have.
• Likes/dislikes: Boredom is my eternal foe, and chaos my eternal aim
• Strengths/weaknesses: I'm Entropy, by it's very nature it betrays me as much as it is me... one could say I'm treachery incarnate.

Short Bio:

Oh, you know the stories.

Guy has plans, life does what it does, and he swears vengeance. The road becomes a bit vague, and his overall goal, well, it becomes unclear. He does a few things that would be considered... sketchy, but ends up doing what he needed to though not in the way he intended.

So here I am, the nominal God of Entropy and Chaos... and one of those little surprises was finding love... and even heartbreak. Ma'at, the only person who has seen the real me in, what, a hundred millennia? We had a kid too, would you believe, and he's a noble, square, sort. He needs some nudging and the other Gods may not like it, but they're all playing the Game so who cares.

Ma'at won't go away, of course... why would she? I'm the most interesting thing that ever happened... and I may as well flirt with Order and Love.

 

Approved by GM.

Name: Sarathai Treesinger
Gender: female
Age: Sarathai has seen the passing of sixty-seven summers, but time passes strangely in the land of the Wood Elves, and she is still but a juvenile in terms of the ages of the fae.
Race: Wood Elf
Description:



Personality:
Quirks: Sarathai has a temperament to match her fiery red hair, and a ferocious tenacity when roused. On the other hand, she can be gentle and kind to those she cares for. She is fickle even for an Elf, and considered childish, troublesome and hot-headed by the elders of her kindred.

Likes: The Forest, animals, nature, open spaces, trustworthiness
Dislikes: Destruction, sprawling cities, being bound or enclosed or imprisoned, dishonesty

Strengths/weaknesses: Sarathai is a mage who calls upon the natural magic that runs beneath her bare feet, through the forests and rivers. When she is near places of natural magic flows, her powers become stronger, but when she is far from these sources, it becomes weaker. Her magic is not as powerful or destructive as that of sorcerers or more advanced wizards. On the other hand, she can also be a fierce warrior – though clearly she is small and weak compared to many, and wears no armour at all (it would disrupt her aura), and must rely on skill and agility.

Weapons: Dagger and longbow (with several magical arrows)

Short bio: Sarathai (meaning "Defiance" in the ancient Asrai tongue) is from the mysterious land known to outsiders as Tu, on the continent of Eosucera. She was orphaned as an infant by a raid from the canims, which killed her parents while they travelled at the border of the Great Forest. The baby’s cries awakened the tree spirits nearby, and the treekin roused to drive away the beastmen. Sarathai was then taken by the dryads to the nearest Elven settlement, deep in the woods.



There it was realised she was touched with magic and had a connection to the woodland spirits. She was taken in and raised by the eccentric mage, Ranu the Wild, and began to learn the ways of Treesinging.

As a child, she accompanied Ranu on expeditions to gather lore or recover ancient lost magical artefacts from lands beyond the forests of Tu, and became a fierce defender of nature. Even other Wood Elves came to view her as fiery-tempered and fickle as the winds, much like the enigmatic tree spirits themselves. She was like a force of nature.

Ranu has disappeared, during an expedition upon which he refused to bring young Sarathai. She left the kindred and wandered to the dark Deepwood, a place ruled by the ancient forest spirits and avoided even by the Elves.

There she was visited by the vision of Isha, Goddess of Life, who instructed her and set her upon her current path, to defeat the Destroyer…

Goddess

Name: Isha
Gender: female
Age: eternal
Pantheon: The Asrai Pantheon includes Kurnous the Hunter, Vaul the Smith, and so on
Physical description:



Personality: Isha is the goddess of Life and Light, associated with spring and sunshine (when her powers are at their zenith), healing and kindness, and of course procreation. But the cycle of life necessarily involves death, and Isha can be vengeful and vindictive. Some may think she is opposed to Anubis, the God of Death, but the relationship is more like an uneasy truce, wherein each subtly tries to gain advantage over the other, but in the end they are both two sides of the same coin.

 

GM Approved

Character Sheet for Champions:
Name: Mieli Hartsson
Gender: Male
Age: 235
Race: Dwarf
Physical description:

• Height: 1.50 m
  
• Weight: 80 kg
  
• Skin color: Caucasian
  
• Hair color: Reddish Brown
  
• Eye color: Grey

Personality:

• Quirks: speaks his mind even if the others don't like what he says, likes to fight
  
• Likes/dislikes: likes beer and combat, hates dishonesty, dishonorable behavior and treachery
  
• Strengths/weaknesses: can be rather impulsive and rude, has mild agoraphobia, but loyal to a fault, good technical skills and basic runespeaking (magical) skills

Weapons: a large warhammer, book of runes
Short Bio: Born in Marcish in a Warrior Caste family that predetermined his future. Mieli became a Ranger, allowed to go out of the mines to fight the enemies of the Dwarves. He has been struggling with his agoraphobia for years, but the demands of the job required him to venture under the clear blue skies. Being a Ranger meant that he would have to face his fears. Kazmya bordered the drow nation of Askar and two elven kingdoms. Venturing underground to deal with the threats coming from the drow nation and the thick canopy of the elven forests provided cover and he did not have to deal with the dreaded blue skies.

Character Sheet for the God/Goddess:

Name: Branka
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown
Pantheon: Dwarven Paragon
Physical description:

• Height: 1.40 m
  
• Weight: 75 kg
  
• Skin color: Caucasian
  
• Hair color: Light Brown
  
• Eye color: Brown

Personality:

• Quirks: Can be rather humorous and a bit sarcastic
  
• Likes/dislikes: Beer and violence, loyalty and justice, hates dishonor, evil, chaos
  
• Strengths/weaknesses: Cares too much about his people

Short Bio: Elevated into a Paragon due to his acts of courage and loyalty to his people. Known to favor Dwarven champions and likes to try to influence the events in their favor. He particularly liked Mieli, whose struggles with the agoraphobia made him sympathetic to his cause. That made Branka break certain rules by providing additional guidance for the dwarf without the others' knowledge.

 

Sarathai - intro as requested by GM...
Somewhere in the forests of Eosucera



Sarathai crept to the edge of the moonlit glade, her slender body melting into the shadows beneath a great willow. A silver moonbeam fell between the branches and illuminated the source of her curiosity.

A pale unicorn struggled against the metal jaws that bit his foreleg.

Sarathai’s brow creased. That looked like a mechanism of the dwarfs. The ugly little men once again intended to steal the jewel-encrusted horn of the noble forest creature. Sarathai waited. There did not seem to be any sign of the bearded drunks in the silent darkness. Perhaps they had set the trap and planned to come back at dawn. There was something else that caused Sarathai disquiet, though she could not quite recognise what it was at this moment.

She took a step out of the shadows, then another, feeling with her toes before placing her bare feet. Something still felt wrong. Was another trap hidden in the long grass?

The unicorn spotted her approach and whinnied with distress. Sarathai shook her head. The bridle about his head prevented him from speaking clearly. She whispered a word of comfort and approached. He struggled more desperately against the trap, only making the metal teeth bite deeper. Sarathai flitted to him then, eager to release him before he did permanent damage to himself. She cursed the dwarfs for their blind greed: Why did they not understand the sin of trapping such a free spirit?

She paused as the unicorn snorted and shoved her away with his nose. Sarathai looked up at the magnificent equine. “Why should I leave you? I am helping you.”

She forced her dagger into the trap and jammed the spring-loaded mechanism, then twisted to open the jaws. The leg was free. Then she quickly unfastened the gagging bridle. Sarathai had healing balms in the pouch at her waist and reached for these. The blood along the unicorn’s leg was dried, but the wound still looked raw. She was astonished as the unicorn shoved her again with his head so that she toppled onto her back.

Go, now! he commanded.

Sarathai understood why a moment later. A moment too late…

A length of chain snapped out of the darkness and wrapped around her wrist. Simultaneously, another chain lashed out and snared her ankle. Strong unseen hands yanked the chains hard, pulling her in different directions.

Emerging from their hiding places around the glade, a dozen Drow Elves suddenly surrounded Sarathai. They had skin the colour of midnight, and appeared from the darkness like wraiths. Sarathai struggled as the unicorn charged away from the glade. Now she understood what he had been trying to tell her.

There were no dwarfs coming. The dwarfs had not set this trap. It had been stolen by the soulless ones and repurposed. The unicorn had been the bait.

Their curved blades glinted in the moonlight. The Drow were far more stealthy than any dwarf, and Sarathai had not been listening for them. She nodded at the cleverness of the trap as they closed in on her. She now understood what else had been disturbing her. The bridle. It was obvious now she considered it; someone had to have come and fixed it to the unicorn’s head after it was trapped.

One brandished a net, others carried manacles and whips.

“Let’s not make this difficult shall we?” a voice hissed like a snake. “The Spider Goddess needs her tribute. It will be worse for you if you struggle.”

Sarathai grimaced. She knew their “tribute” was measured in the tortured screams of their victims. The Spider Goddess fed on distress and pain. But the Drow did not know of Sarathai the Treesinger’s abilities. She had one hand free, and she had her voice. She glanced to the one that clutched the other end of the chain that held her wrist.

The Wood Elf sang an incantation to the nearby brambles. Thorns sprouted into spikes as long as her handspan, then launched across the glade like arrows. Her intent capturer yelped as half a dozen of these barbs embedded themselves in his neck and face. The tension on the chain slackened and Sarathai unwrapped her hand.

Three more of the Drow ran towards her now, cursing in their chilling tongue. Sarathai struggled against the chain around her ankle. She needed another moment. The slavers were too quick. She whispered another spell, and the agile dark elves suddenly fell.

They had run unexpectedly into a marsh that had not been there a moment ago. Water had welled up from beneath the surface at Sarathai’s call for aid. The Drow found themselves wading up to their waists in a sucking bog.

Now Sarathai threw off the second chain and was on her feet. She opened her legs into a sprint away from the glade, and the closing circle of hunters. One Drow blocked her way, stepping beside the willow under which she had so recently hidden.

Sarathai reached out and sang to the tree. A bough creaked in the night, then moved. The astonished Drow was thrown backwards off his feet as the thick wooden limb smashed into his chest.

Cries of alarm hissed between the dark elves. Sarathai fled into the night.

Crossbow bolts fizzed past her ears. Sarathai weaved between the trunks as she ran. She was fleet of foot, but the Drow were equally quick, and they saw well in the darkness. The hunters stalked her. Her heart pounded in her chest as their disconcerting snake-like voices called to each other. They were corralling her, encircling their prey.

Sarathai knew she had been lucky so far. They had underestimated her abilities, but in truth the martial race probably each and individually outmatched her in combat.

Another Drow suddenly melted from the shadows before her. He wielded a spear in one hand and a barbed net in the other. His black suit of ornate armour perhaps denoted he was a leader.

“Enough!” he snarled. "You will suffer for your defiance!"

Sarathai did not know how he had got ahead to block her path. She could hear the others closing on her from behind. She hesitated, like the deer cornered by the wolf.

Then, from an unexpected direction, a large pale shape appeared. The unicorn thundered into the flank of the Drow and knocked him sprawling. The beautiful animal then turned wise eyes toward Sarathai and offered his back. She spotted the blood-crusted leg, then leapt onto him.

Sarathai looked down at the Drow sergeant sprawled on the ground and said, “You assail the forest, the forest will fight back!”

The unicorn whinnied and galloped down a path with thick gorse bushes enclosing it on either side. By the time the other slavers had joined their leader, something strange had happened. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the spot where he thought Sarathai had disappeared.

There was no path. It was if the forest had shown them some illusion in the moonlight, and Sarathai and the unicorn had vanished down a pathway that did not exist...

TAG: @darthbernael @Adalia-Durron @greyjedi125 @Shadowsun @Corellian_Outrider @galactic-vagabond422 @Ktala @TheAdmiral @Sinrebirth

 

@darthbernael Approved

Name: Malagath "The Black"
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Race: Human
Physical description:
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 155
Skin color: Tanned
Hair color: Black
Eye color: Brown
Personality:
Quirks: Does drinking rum seem like a quirk? Or always adjusting paintings and other wall hanging items so they are just slightly askew, though not all of them, just to keep people guessing? Or never being there in the morning after a night with a lady because I can't fathom the thought of being with the same woman for the next day much less the rest of my life? Are those Quirks?
Likes/dislikes: The Sea, Freedom, Rum, Women, largely in that order. Dislikes: Governments, Tyranny, Salvery, Salvers and Pirate Hunters, All of those equally.
Strengths/weaknesses: Does a winning smile and silver tongue count as a strength? A fear of long term commitment to anything other than a ship is that a weakness? I'd see it as a strength see then I'm not tied down to anyone and with my ship I can go anywhere I please. I'm handy with an axe, and a crossbow...yes that's what that is in my hand, a crossbow...And well, what Pirate isn't in love with the amber lady, Rum. Though I find I work better tipsy...it's when I'm stone sober that I have...issues. But so long as the alcohol still flows I'm a good adventurous man.
Weapons: Boarding axe, and Hand Crossbow
Short Bio: You don't need to know much, orphan kid that signed on board a ship far too young and never looked back. I've gotten into some scrapes but have always come out the other side, though I do hear whispers from time to time.

Character Sheet for the God/Goddess:

Name: Cayden Cailean
Gender: Male
Age: I don't quite remember
Pantheon: Pathfinder
Physical description (picture if applicable):
Height: 5'8
Weight: 175
Skin color: Bronze
Hair color: Brown
Eye color: Brown
Personality:
Quirks: I'm not supposed to be here and I don't know how I got here.
Likes/dislikes: alcohol of all verities and those that make them. Brave but shrewd adventurers. And those that fight against tyranny. Dislikes: Tyranny, oppression, terrible drinks and boredom.
Strengths/weaknesses: Well, I mean I was a sellsword in my last life so, good with a blade. Then there's my prodigious knowledge of brewing and distilling. I do have a weakness for a pretty face, and it has gotten me into trouble many times.
Short Bio: One night on a drunken dare, I became a god. What trials I faced or what the test actually was I don't remember, I barely even remember the night itself. But, I'm here now and I make it my mission to liberate those in chains, and make sure good drink flows.

 

OOC: Approved by our wonderful GM!

IC: Nyruel Guldor
The forests of Eosucera

Nyruel surveyed the entrance to the forest, eyeing the Drow Sergeant that had accompanied him. It had taken him quite some time to get to the sister nation of Huiz Guo, but once there he was glad to be in the arms of his Drow brethren once more. The depravity and sheer patheticness of the other races all laid bare during his travels.

He had been granted the privilege of being able to go on a raiding expedition into the forests of Eosucera, to squish the weaklings that dare call themselves cousins to the Drow.

Nyruel nodded to the sergeant allowing him to go about his mission, Guldor wanted a moment to drink in the power of the forest. He could handle any obstinate wood elves that came his way. Did they not realize their place? In the ultimate power and glory of the Drow?

He began to walk into the forest, his staff clasped in one hand, held parallel to the floor. He could feel the ancient power of the forest, its cries of pain as his brethren tore it to shreds. To have such immense power and to subjugate it, the prospect couldn't but help force a smile onto Nyruel's face.

He stopped, closing his eyes, as he held his head up to the sky. A green and brown sky of tree trunks and leaves, any sight of blue blotted out by the immense size of the forest.

"Why don't you cease your pathetic attempt at hiding and just come out and kill me already. You truly are a pathetic breed." Nyruel spitted out the last word, opening his eyes to the sight of twelve or so wood elves, all protruding out of the wood, encircling him like hunters to prey.

"You have no right to be here Drow! Leave!" hissed back a male wood elf, each deeply disgusted by his very presence in the forest.

"Oh? Perhaps you do not realize you are all already dead? That it is the right of the Drow to lay claim to all parts of this world?" he tutted slightly at the end, only causing very irritation in wood elves. The leaves around his feet began to wither and decay as he spoke next.

"Which of you would like to die first?"

One of the younger wood elves cried out in anger as they charged toward the Drow, over their head, they brandished an axe, ready to swipe down and slay the Drow. He shifted his body thwacking him with his staff and knocking him to the ground.

"How truly and utterly pathetic, I didn't even need to use my magic with that one." the Drow then took out a small knife, the other wood elves merely stunned at the events as he put his boot on his back, skewing the knife through the back of the skull, killing the wood elf instantly.

"NO!" yelled the wood elves all now charging toward him. He twirled his staff around a red blast expanding all in all directions knocking the wood elves to the floor. With his hand, he pressed it against the back of the wood elf's skull speaking softly in a foreign tongue. A red mist flowed from his hand into the fallen wood elf, its body rising up unnaturally, its eyes glowing a hellish red.

"Kill my slave, kill them all!" barked Nyruel his sickening grin spread all over his face. The undead wood elf charged toward the wood elves picking themselves up off the floor, an ungodly moan protruding from its mouth. Its axe slammed into the skull of another wood elf, the others screaming in panic.

"Good, Very good" whispered Nyruel, picking up his staff and slamming it into the ground, the new-fallen wood elf rising to join his undead ranks.

He eyed the elves behind him, letting loose another blast of red aura as they were slammed into the ground, several others fired their arrows toward him, the red mist blocking and snapping the arrow in two. Another whizzed by scathing the drow's face.

"You'll have to do a lot better than that" he muttered, toppling them over once more. He patiently walked over to the elves sprawling on the ground, his undead soldiers growing in number each time he slammed his staff down into the ground.

"Anubis! God of Death! Mightiest of the Gods! Accept this humble offering!" with these words he plunged his staff into a struggling wood elf, plunging it through the pathetic creature's heart.

It did not take long for his undead minions to dispatch the remaining wood elves. The pathetic things, he brought his hand to his face, the feeling the small amount of blood in his fingers. For them to even graze him it was pathetic really. He slammed his staff once more his undead slaves collapsing to the ground.

---

IC: Anubis

The normally emotionless Anubis could not help but grin. His champion's offering was noted and brought the Jackal god great pleasure. Comforted that he had made the correct selection he looked back up to the chief of the gods. Anubis was not one for trickery or deception but a good honest, brutal game such as this. This would indeed be great fun.

The presence of the Destroyer left the God of Death excited Anubis, although he did not show it, a worthy challenge in which to test this newfound champion of his. He knew he would bring him great glory and was eager to see how he would perform. Although he knew it would be a great difficultly trying to convince him to join with the other champions, an unfortunate necessity the Jackal god realized.

He eyed Samhain, the trickster god, he loathed his presence here, the honest and straightlaced Anubis could not wrap his head around the devious being, yes indeed he detested the god.

He turned his attention back around Isha, perhaps surprisingly out of all the other gods gathered here, save for the chief god, Isha was the one he was most fond of. The others were too chaotic or too boisterous, it varied from god to god, but Anubis's overly serious demeanor often came into conflict with the more chaotic personalities present.

"Seems your little wood elf might get in quite a bit of trouble should our champion's paths cross" The jackal god's expression turned serious once more, eyeing the rest of the gods present as he turned his attention once more to Selenia.

TAG: @darthbernael @Adalia-Durron @greyjedi125 @Kurisan @Corellian_Outrider @galactic-vagabond422 @Ktala @TheAdmiral @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Xenos Jehuty -Intro
Blindsided



He heard another blood curdling scream to his left and behind, followed by another wet chopping sound, which brought to mind the work of the local butcher. In a flash, he visualized the bloody apron, the bloody cleaver, effortlessly slicing meat, as well as the large sides of meat hanging from hooks.

All that blood pooled on the floor of the slaughterhouse. But he could not afford to be distracted, not when his very own life was on the line. Everyone was being killed, each and all members from his mercenary squad. Fear and rage burned through every fiber of his being like torrential rivers of fire. He could hardly feel his own wounds as he defended himself with all his skill, turning aside swords seeking his organs, parrying blades aimed to maim, evading heavy axes meant to remove limbs.

How did this all happen?

They’d been marching towards a private pier, where a boat should be waiting. It was supposed to take them to the Howling Isles, where his squad of ten would join other sellswords and adventurers. He was ready for this moment. He had gone on night raids, taken part in skirmishes, attacked several enemy camps, he knew battle and death. He had proven himself.

Still, there was no clear answer to his question.

There had been some concern when the scout hadn’t returned. Then the captain went out in search of the newest recruit.

That was moments before the ambush.

Xenos tried not to think on these things as the visceral fight continued. He was far, far from Storham, a town south from the capital of Oriaburg. So far south, they were practically on the other side of the continent - in fact, that’s where he was now.

By sheer instinct, he ducked a horizontal swing from the two-handed sword an armored enemy brandished. Xenos was too tired to simply ‘flip’ over the attack, which also worked to his advantage. With a quick motion he slipped his left blade right under the enemies armpit and plunged it as far as it would go, then immediately spun out, just in time to parry a sword strike aimed at his back.

Xenos backpedalled, as he grunted in pain, his eyes quickly taking stock of the slaughter.

His squad mates were nearly all killed. Those that weren’t already dead, would soon be.

Their mysterious armored enemies had exploited their advantage to the fullest, silencing their bawdy singing and crude jokes of blushing maidens with their ambush. Now their blood stained the sands on the shore, where the sea would eventually claim their carcasses.

Xenos had never known this level of fear and anger, he could see no clear means of escape. He felt as if he were at the edge of frenzied madness. He would not give up, he would never relent. He would live or die by the sword.

Much to his frustration, the enemy concealed their faces in armored face plates, there was no symbol or sigil to give them away. However, by the way some of them laughed…he could nearly place them.

Three consecutive sword strikes missed, as Xenos evaded, even as he continued to move closer to the pier. In an instant, it was confirmed.

There was no boat in sight.

Was this as set up?

Xenos couldn’t afford to focus on that line of thought. His attacker was getting tired and impatient, as his armored foe now resolved to hack at him, but Xenos was simply too well trained to fall for that crude tactic. His armored opponent was telegraphing his intent quite badly. Out of the corner of his eyes, young Xenos also noticed other armored killers moving to observe his last moments, now that they were done with their gristly work. This angered him ever further. To think they had been betrayed somehow.

It was the only sensible answer.

As he continued to move back and parry his assailant’s attack, Xenos proceeded down the pier, noticing that he was trailing blood upon the old creaking planks of wood. Is that why his enemy was so eager to finish him? To deliver the final blow? Xenos couldn’t even recall when he had been wounded, or where.

The other armored killers were shouting now, from the other end of the pier. There was no going back that way, as his attacker became spurred by whatever they were saying. Xenos absently noticed different accents, but that was hardly a focus; as before, he could ill afford the distraction. He was tired, wounded and bleeding, and was likely to die. He had no issues with that. He’d lost count of how many of the armored men he had killed earlier, but one thing he knew for certain: He knew they had been well outnumbered. That was not a coincidence. Well, at the very least, he’d get to kill one more. That was a small consolation.

“Just curse yer luck and die!” His armored adversary shouted in frustration.

Xenos pivoted left with incredible accuracy, evading his attacker’s strike, which allowed him to switch his blade into a reverse hold, and impale the back of his attacker’s right knee.

His enemy’s scream of pain was satisfying, causing Xenos to chuckle in mirthless disdain, even as his attacker fell heavily on one knee. He was clearly depending greatly on the protection of his armor to compensate for his lack of sword skill. He was a craven fighter, seeking only easy kills.

“Curse your luck and die!” The young warrior almost spat, kicking the armored opponent into the water- a fact made evident by a great splash.

That’s when Xenos felt a sharp stabbing pain, as something pierced his shoulder. The young warrior looked down with almost absent curiosity, eyes widening slightly in disbelief. Xenos looked upon the shaft of an arrow jotting out his body, piercing his armor and flesh.

So, there had been someone with a long bow as well? Is that what got the scout?

Xenos stumbled backward, as he felt himself getting dizzy. He was fighting not to lose consciousness, but knew that too was a battle he would not be winning. He could hear the other armored men laughing, the wood underneath his feet protesting against his heavy steps, then begin to give way.

Suddenly, he felt himself go through the breaking floor boards as he too plunged into the cold embrace of the waters. It was a curious feeling, losing consciousness, drowning, dying like this.

He watched as the surface water seem to rise up to the sky, as light fled and his surroundings grew darker. His limbs felt heavy. He only wanted to sleep now.

The tales had been wrong, he reasoned, as he closed his eyes.

There had been nothing sweet about it. About the battle.

Just the stinging bitterness of loss…. and betrayal.

That's when he figured out the accent was from Kushya.


Tag: @darthbernael, @Sinrebirth ( @galactic-vagabond422 )

 

Malagath "The Black"
Unwitting Rescuer

They were a few days out from Al Qalhan coast, Malagath having spent the last night in port croursing as was his want. Leaving behind yet another woman that he'd talked into his temporary quarters in the best inn he could afford. He was a man of habits both good and bad. Though where his philandering and drunkenness fell was up to the gods, not that he paid them much heed. They didn't bother with the squabbles and scruples of people like him. It had been a while since he'd been to temples but he was sure there wasn't a god of Pirates. Who would really want that anyway?

"Land Ho!" was the call from the crow's nest. Malagath, or Mal to his friends roused from his bunk in the surprisingly cramped captain's quarters. He rubbed his eyes before taking a swig from the bottle of rum that he'd spent the night cradling like a lover. To be fair the Amber Lady was his constant companion. That and his ship, though one would see how long he held on to this one. Though he was fond of the 'Freedom's Bow' , a quick ship with a surprising amount of smuggling compartments.

As he got to the deck his half elf first officer, as much as a pirate ship could have a first officer, Corydon met him, his sharp eyes focused on the coastline. They were swinging close to the coast to see if they could find any easy pickings edge Uthium before stalking the shipping lanes between the mainland and the Howling Isles.

"What do you see?" Mal asked rubbing his hands ready to his hands dirty.

"A fight, seems to be mercenaries." The stoic blonde haired half elf replied his sharp elven features seemingly set in stone.

"Are they still fighting?"

"Not much anymore…" Cory blinked, "Looks like one side has won, and is not interested in taking prisoners."

"Not even ransoming them? That's just poor business."

"Maybe this was just an attack of opportunity?"

"Well," Mal checked the colors, they weren't flying the black, they were safely under the flag of Uthium. It was only when they were assured a victory that they stuck their colors. Mal checked their distance before giving orders to move closer to the shore. "Once we are close enough fire a shot over the victor's heads."

"What?"

"Scare them off…"

"Why?"

"So we can pick at the bones."

"There won't be much left."

"Humor me...I have a feeling."

"We'd be wasting ammunition we could use against our actual targets."

"I'm sure a shot or two from our Dwarven 25s will send them running." The heavy dwarven cannons that the crew had looted from a foundry that wasn't going to be needing them had good range and stopping power but took up a lot of powder to use effectively.

"You're not letting this go are you."

"Nope, I have a good feeling…"

"You and your feeling will get us killed one day…"

"And you can say I told you so with your last breath."

Corydon rolled his eyes.

"I'll get the longboats ready, you fire the cannons." The 'Freedom's Bow' moved closer and closer to shore as longboats were lowered into the water with many pirates a side, the Captain Malagath The Black, or to some, The Mad, stood towards the front. Surely by this point the armored warriors on the shore had noticed the ship moving closer. And if they didn't they would very shortly as two loud reports of cannons roared over the sea. The whistling of the projectiles faded into the distance before crashing into the hill behind the mercenaries.

The armored forms looked up before realizing that they themselves did not have canons, and chose discretion as the better part of valor...though it seemed their bloody business was done. The shore was empty except for the dead bodies of the losers in that particular fight. The pirates swarmed over the side of the longboat to begin the process of looting the bodies.

Malagath looked to the pier noticing some of the boards were broken. Though the void he saw bubbles floating to the surface...Someone fell through here. His eyes widened. Either there was someone alive under the surface and would be grateful for a rescue, or a body was sinking to the sea floor and would be lost to the fishes if they didn't act soon. Mal divested himself of some of his heavier gear and grabbed a rope from the longboat. After securing it to a post that wasn't going to shift on him, he turned to his crew.

"If I pull on this rope, pull me up…"

"Aye?" They replied with some trepidation.

"Don't worry I'm just going fishing." With that he dove down keeping his eyes closed for the first few feet before opening them briefly to get his bearings gritting through the stinging of the salt water. Much to his surprise he found a body sinking deeper into the deep. He swam towards the tall figure, taller than him at least. Soon he grabbed hold of the unconscious form of the unknown, and possibly very dead man.

A few yanks on his tether and he, and the other man were dragged to the surface. He was heavy whoever he was…

Once they broke the surface Mal took a big breath.

"I got a bite." He said with a shining smile.

As he made it to the sore and placed the other man on his back. He was certainly a merc, given his weapons and armor. He cut a dashing figure with his height and dark hair, his soft features would make him the talk of any port he found himself in. Though his relative level of liveliness was unknown until the merc's chest quaked with a cough, and then another as water bubbled out of his mouth.

"Well, he's still alive…"

TAG: @darthbernael @greyjedi125

 

IC: Xenos Jehuty
Rescued ( before the great tremor )

He was not keenly aware that he was having a dream, or what he thought to be one, neither would he remember it, at least not vividly.

It was most strange indeed, images of a unicorn and a wood elf, a black elf with a red staff, facing a row of female black elves which were framed by a giant….Spider?

Oh, this was no dream. It was a nightmare of his dying mind- that- or a trick of his imagination. There was a fire, a homestead was burning. Was it his home? Was this Storham? And what was that flying hight above the flames? It glinted like a bird made of gold…except…it had a tail?

A terrible creature roamed the waters, its face deformed by a multitude of writhing and protruding tentacles. The enormous image was quickly covered by curtains of fog, yet even at a glimpse, he was terrifying.

How was any of this possible? Xenos did not know, for he could not begin to make sense out of it.

The troubling nightmare then decided to torture him in a different way, with visions of bar maidens carrying flagons of ale, all accompanied by much singing and merry making. Was this not the passtime of his slain comrades?

Xenos opened his mouth to protest these visions, but was only rewarded by a strange and indistinguishable sound.

’Time to wake up…’ A woman’s voice echoed within the now fading dream. Inexplicably, he was feeling extremely ill all of a sudden. He needed to retch….very badly.

“….he’s alive.” Someone said, a man this time.

Xenos’ body reacted of its own accord, as he now retched liberally and with abandon. It was not a very pleasant affair, ejecting the sea water one had swallowed while drowning.

Physical pain returned to his body and with it, the memory of what had happened to him and his band of sellswords. No, he hadn’t died…somehow.

The young warrior’s eyes had trouble focusing, as he felt both nauseous and disoriented. He couldn’t tell whether he was laying down or being carried, as his senses were still adjusting. He had salt in his eyes, water in his ears, stomach and lungs, not to mention the wounds from his previous battle.

A coughing fit overtook him when he first tried to speak. Failing the first time, he attempted it once again.

*Cough, cough…*

“Where…..?” Is all he managed to rasp to anyone around him.


Tag: @darthbernael , @galactic-vagabond422

*************************************************************

IC: Ma’at
Gathered Pantheon (before the great tremor )

She sighed with visible relief as she bravely held her place around the map of the realm. Her golden eyes sought Cayden and silently conveyed her gratitude. Ma’at would find a way to repay this kindness.

For a brief second, she side-glanced at Samhain, but otherwise offered no spoken word, then followed by casting an appraising glance at the other deities present. It would come as no surprise that Ma’at had forged amicable relationships with Isha, Mystra and sometimes even the volatile Enya.

When the Time of Great Enni had befallen the Pantheon , Thoth, who was Ma’at’s husband, had left to seek knowledge in other realms, taking Seshat with him as an aide. This was his way of ‘escaping’ the crippling effects he was experiencing. Ma’at was left to contend with being forlorn. It was Isha who had suggested she visit the mortal realm to assuage her state ( or was it Loki? )

Being disguised as a mortal had its advantage and disadvantages. Like not being able to readily tell when other gods were doing the same. It all seemed so adventurous at first, despite resulting in varying degrees of consequences.

And now to complicate matters, Huitzil had initiated this ‘game’.

A game which could destabilize the tenuous balance that existed within the Pantheon.

Ma’at had caught Huitzil’s glance when he’d look their way and offered a simple acknowledging nod. She also understood his not-so-subtle threat at his mention of ‘housecleaning’. He might be cleaver, tactical even, but he would be wise not to underestimate Andrissa, who had been playing the long game for far longer and far better than anyone could guess.

Anubis had usurped Thoth’s rulership over the dead through esoteric and legalistic machinations, solidifying himself as the ‘de facto’ Ruler of the Dead. Yet, rumor had it that Osiris was vying to do the same to him, as ‘Fate’ would have it.

Still, Huitzil would not be where he was for lack of initiative or ability. He played boldly and decisively, as everyone could see. By setting a wager against ‘Loki’, he was really sending a not-so-subtle message to Samhain - that- and a challenge.

Everyone knew that a month's time could very well translate into hundreds of years, if one was not careful and specific on terms.

For now, Ma’at decided to hold her own counsel as far as wagers were concerned. Her focus at present would be to aid her own champion and if possible, any of his allies.

They had to survive and become powerful enough to best the last piece on the board, for the realm of Selenia was not the only thing at risk.



Tag: @darthbernael, @Sinrebirth, @Shadowsun, @galactic-vagabond422, @Kurisan, @Ktala, @Corellian_Outrider, @Adalia-Durron, @TheAdmiral

 

Malagath "The Black"

The pirate smirked a little as the man came to, but the slight joy was short lived as on of the men pointed towards the ship. From the 'Freedom's Bow' Mal caught sight of a flash, a bit of polished metal catching the rays of the sun. Long ago Mal and Corydon had worked out a system of messaging with the mirrors. It wasn't complicated, but they could get simple messages across...like there's a proper Uthiuman ship coming right at them.

Mal didn't signal back right away.

"Alright lads," He called out. "Party's over bring all that you have to the boat and we need to get back to the Bow." The men hastily removed rings and other small valuables off the dead. Mal himself plucked a fine silver chain from the neck of one of the fallen mercs.

The man stirred awake, showing some confusion. Mal knelt down in front of him.

"Congratulations my friend, you didn't drown." He looked over his shoulder checking on Corydon. "Sorry to hurry along your recovery but you need to make a choice. It looks like your fellows met their end, and there is no one here to pick you up. I don't know your relationship with the Uthiuman navy but, they don't like me very much. Doesn't look like you have anything holding you here, and I could use a strong man like you."

"You have till I get back to my longboat to make your decision." He turned and walked towards the longboat that was already being shoved off the beach.

TAG: @greyjedi125 @Sinrebirth

Cayden Cailean
Realm of the gods

Cayden leaned back in his chair a smile on his face. He took a swig of his drink, rum, it suited the occasion. His champion had fished another out of the drink. It took some convincing to get the drunkard to stop but, Cayden couldn't just let another champion fall not this early. He knew the score...the world was threatened, the only world he knew, the only world that had rum, wine, ale, beer, brandy, whisky, gin...all other kinds of alcohol. He wasn't going to let it fall.

He gave a wink Ma'at knocking back more of his drink.

TAG: @greyjedi125

 

IC: Xenos Jehuty
Rescued ( before the great tremor )

"Congratulations my friend, you didn't drown." The man's voice declared. Xenos could understand most of what was being said. Better still, the accent was not of Kushya.

Something he couldn't see at the moment was happening as the man's tone changed. There was also movement all about.

"Sorry to hurry along your recovery but you need to make a choice. It looks like your fellows met their end, and there is no one here to pick you up. I don't know your relationship with the Uthiuman navy but, they don't like me very much. Doesn't look like you have anything holding you here, and I could use a strong man like you."

Xenos tried to speak, but only managed another coughing fit.

"You have till I get back to my longboat to make your decision."

The young warrior squinted his eyes and managed to see the silhouette of the man as he turned and walked off.

Come on, get it together

Xenos chided himself as he pounded his chest several times with a fist.

"*Cough, cough*...with you...." He managed to rasp, even as he forced himself to turn and attempt to get on his feet. He would not become a corpse. No, he would live and he would avenge his comrades and himself.

"Take me....*cough*...with..you!" He finally declared, coming to rest on one knee, his face twisted in a grimace of pain as he sought what reserves of fortitude he had within himself to push past his troubles. He would not die here. Death had failed to claim him...and now there would be hell to pay.

Ever so slowly, he rose and began to lumber his way towards the longboat.


Tag: @galactic-vagabond422 , @darthbernael

 

Malagath "The Black"

"Take me....*cough*...with..you!" Mal couldn't help his smile as the other man came close. He clapped a hand on the merc's shoulder. There was a part of him that wanted this merc to join him. He wasn't sure why but he liked the cut of this man's jib.

"Welcome aboard." The captain of the Freedom's bow lept into the longboat helping the new recruit up. "Now when you're ready grab an oar and start rowing." He said giving his first order as the merc's new commander. "Come on lads." Mal called out to the men and women furiously rowing to towards their home. "Row like your lives depend on it." Grabbing at one of his medallions he signaled Corydon to make sail as soon a possible...though he could see that Corydon was already doing that. He also noticed the gun crews loading cannons. Not a bad choice, if it should come to it.

"Row, row for all you're worth…" He hoped it was enough.

TAG: @greyjedi125 @darthbernael

 

IC: Nyruel Guldor
Man Caelora, Huiz Gao, Eosucera

Nyruel Guldor was pleased with his little expedition, returning to the great sanctum of the Drow. He found himself escorted down to the heart of the great city, where the Matriarch of the Matriarchs dwelt. Nyruel loathed the Matriarchal structure of their society, to him he saw it as the greatest weakness of the Drow, if only they effectively used all their assets they would be able to crush the other races and claim what was rightfully theirs.

Nyruel eyed their contempt, unfazed by it he had long ago become accustomed to the looks he received as a male Drow warlock. Nevertheless it still stung, a quiet annoyance that he exercised on those unfortunate enough to cross him.

“Why has the Goddess told me that you, a lowly male, even if you are a warlock, have been called to duty to serve the Drow?”

Perhaps because unlike you old hags withering away while the rest of us do the real work I curry favor with the gods. That's what Guldor wanted to say but he knew if he did he would be killed.

“You do not even serve her, yet she tells me you must return to the surface, that some great pestilence is wreaking havoc on the surface. But,” she smiled, sharp teeth glinting in the firelight, “I doubt you will last long and your soul will scream out it’s last in the Goddess’s pits.”

Guldor simply smiled back sarcastically, although they would not know why. Indeed I do not serve her, I worship one far, far more powerful. Nyruel's fanaticism of Anubis he kept under a tight lid. As for this great pestilence Nyruel was intrigued, perhaps finally he would be able to let loose and test the full limits of his power.

“I doubt you will last long and your soul will scream out it’s last in the Goddess’s pits.” After this statement the females all spat, yet again a needless display of disrespect. What did this accomplish? he thought absently to himself. Their sheer foolishness, how could they not recognize his might? His power? His sheer grandeur? Perhaps their eyes had grown too dim in their dark caverns to notice his strength? No matter sooner or later they would realize how truly exceptional he was. Who knows? Perhaps one day he would become the first Patriarch of the Drow?

His face became stern as female Drow continued to speak.

“You are to find what this pestilence is, see if it needs aid as our troops, even now, are preparing to reap the harvest of terrified souls in the nations surrounding, and feed the Goddess so she may return. Perhaps in doing so, you may win her favor. But I doubt it, after all...you are only male…Now go, remove yourself from these hallowed halls, and attempt to perform your duties.”

Nyruel stood, his white eyes gleaming as he stared deep into the female's eyes.

"I shall do this thing as you wish, but I think it unwise of you to underestimate the power I command." With that he turned to leave, perhaps he already said too much, he was not one that wanted to get into a battle here, even he recognized the sanctity of these grounds. The time would come for the collapse of the Matriarchy but today was not that day.

TAG: @darthbernael

---

IC: Anubis
The Realm of the Gods

Anubis took note of the nod Huitzilopotchi gave him as he turned his attention to Ma'at's and Cayden's champions, seemed they had already crossed paths. This Xenos, Anubis had taken a liking to him, he seemed an earnest and honest lad, traits Anubis appreciated, although he would wait to see before the jackal god gave any indication of his approval. Malagath on the other hand, well he represented everything Anubis detested about humanity, the ways of a pirate were not in accordance with what Anubis held to be right, but he knew all too well Cayden could care less. Still, he could well make a worth ally to Nyruel down the line, that is if Nyruel could bring himself to work with a human.

Upon viewing their champions little interaction Anubis looked up to the two gods in question Cayden giving Ma'at a sly wink. Anubis had respect for Ma'at, after all it was her feathers that were used on the scales he observed to weigh the worthiness of the mortals. He tried as best he could to live his own immortal life by the ideals she set forth.

The jackal god then came to see what his own champion was undergoing, a mixed message of orders it seemed. Anubis frowned, he like his champion did not approve of the Drow's structure of society, he would approve wholeheartedly if Nyruel sought to change it, but there were more pressing matters at hand. At least the Spider Goddess had listened to Anubis and past along the message.

"I shall do this thing as you wish, but I think it unwise of you to underestimate the power I command."

Idiot thought Anubis to himself. Bide your tongue and get out of there.

Finally Anubis went to look up at Huitzilopotchi, betting a months time of services of the god Loki. Anubis was disappointed by this wager, he despised trickery and thus using this god of trickery as his lackey, it served him no use. Still he could barter it off or use it to bet later on. He eyed the chief god, his jaw opening to ask a question.

"My Lord must we bet with our worshipers or could we bet with..." Anubis pulled out three figurines, each depicting a man with a jackal's head holding a weapon, these depicted the jackal warriors that Anubis kept in his employ. "... other things?"

TAG: @Sinrebirth, @Adalia-Durron, @greyjedi125, @darthbernael , @Kurisan, @Corellian_Outrider, @galactic-vagabond422, @Ktala, @TheAdmiral

 

IC: Mieli Hartsson
Location: Kharbhatharb Mithril Mine, Kazamy

Mieli Hartsson, dwarven ranger, was sitting at a table of the Kal Karat Tavern enjoying himself with a tall tankard of ale and a plate full of nug ribs. As usual he was sitting by himself, though if approached he gave a smile and greeted whoever came along.

But he preferred solitude. Not that he disliked company, just preferred being alone. Especially when he was having his favorite meal and drink.

The sounds around him were a cacophony of jokes, laughter, shouts of anger and atonal singing. Mieli sometimes joined with a witty quip or a song that he knew, after all an asocial dwarf was problematic, given that they all were crammed in such a tight living space.

Maybe his introversion was what made him a good ranger? Patrolling deep roads and scouting, though the latter was problematic as it meant going outside. Ugh the outside. Mieli shuddered and took a swig, then wiped the foam from his moustache. It was then followed by a loud burp.

Then someone decided to join him. Mieli tried not to grimace at the newcomer. There goes the peaceful dinner, or was it lunch? Didn’t matter. He fixed him with a gaze studying the new guy. It was then when he recognized that it was the Chief Ranger. So that meant that he was going to be sent on some mission of sorts.

“When do I need to leave?” he asked after hearing the objectives. At least he was going through the forest.

TAG: @darthbernael

---

[B]IC: Branka [/B]

Branka grimaced at the introduction of the new figure on the board. Typical. Good thing the dwarves mostly stayed underground, so his people won’t have to face the creature. Unfortunately Mieli will probably have to. There should be a way to nudge him in the right direction.

Then came Anubis’ banter aimed at the tree-hugger Isha. That made him chuckle “Not unless my Champion finds him first.” he smirked and took a swig of his ale and burped like Mieli in the tavern.

His focus returning to the table, though listening to Anubis’ question, wondering what the answer will be.

[B]TAG: [USER=1151550]@Sinrebirth[/USER] [USER=1429191]@Shadowsun[/USER] [USER=1420608]@Kurisan[/USER] [USER=1354732]@galactic-vagabond422[/USER] [USER=884062]@Adalia-Durron[/USER] [USER=641563]@Corellian_Outrider[/USER] [USER=713700]@Ktala[/USER] [USER=671549]@greyjedi125[/USER][/B]

 

The Deep Forest of Qedraerhiel
Nissa Taneefoot

As she moved through the forest, Nissa could tell that something was different. Everything looked normal, and yet, there was an underlying of quiet. Too quiet. Then a whisper..a voice came to her. “Little one, the forests are crying.” a whisper reached her ears. Nissa slowed down, listening hard to the voice that she heard. The trees rustled.

“The mortal ones, short or long lived, are cutting, clearing, killing the spirits of the trees. We give them shelters and homes but this is more, so much more…”

Nissa landed, as anger filled her at the hearing and feeling the sorrow of the trees. Branches shook, creaking and groaning, “The dark ones come, skulking beneath the canopy. Already two small fairy villages have disappeared to their tread.”

WHAT!! Nissa shuddered. The dark ones were afoot here? As soon as the words came out, ominous sounds reached her ears, as though the tromp of boots was coming closer. “The gods seem restless, even the Goddess rarely walks our paths, here or in any other wood.” the trees whispered once more. Nissa could feel the change within the forest, as darkness seemed to slowly consume the area. As she watched, an image of the high elves of the shining cities that dotted the forest, “Find the elves, warn them, protect the forest, stop the dark ones, little protector.”

Suddenly, the forest around her shook violently for a few moments, in a way that Nissa had never experienced before. Nissa opened her eyes wide. Was it... Mother?

Nissa wiped her eyes. "Yes!" she proclaimed as she turned and sped off, heading for the areas of the high elves. She flew high, sticking within the canopies to keep out of sight of the dark ones, as she moved to warn the elves. With her speed, it would not be difficult to warn them. She used to spell to make herself invisible. But she knew another way, to ensure the message made its way. She leaned over, and casting another small spell, she whispered the warning to a nearby tree. Nissa could speak to the plants and trees as well. They would continue to pass her message until it got to the elves. Also, it would go to the other cities also.

Nissa continued on her path, flying her fastest, as she looked out for hidden dangers. She had to warn the elves. That way, they could return to chase the intruders out of the forest. The trees and the forest was important. More important than most humans thought. But the elves understood. They were also in tune and could keen the pulse that flowed within the aged woods.

Nissa flew, darting about to reach her goal.



TAG: @darthbernael
---------------------------------------------

IC: Mystra
The Realm of the Gods

Mystra smiled, her blue eyes twinkled as she finished her roll, and placed her piece upon the board. Some would wonder why she played what some would call an insignificant piece. But Mystra knew better. Magic, even in its smallest of forms, could move mountains, if placed correctly. Mystral spared Huitzilopotchi a small smile and nod as well, as she finished her move. While she did not relish such games, did not mean she would allow utter chaos to rule. She enjoyed the mortal world. And many of the races partook of her gifts, even if they did not acknowledge it.

The shake that was felt within the mortal realm helped to move things along. And a bet, involving Loki drew as the first bid. Anubis had his own idea of a bid. Mystra listened but stayed silent as she looked at the players upon the board. Not now, but perhaps soon, what she sought would soon show itself upon the board...



TAG: @darthbernael, @greyjedi125, @galactic-vagabond422, @Adalia-Durron, @Shadowsun, @Sinrebirth, @Corellian_Outrider, @Kurisan, @TheAdmiral

 

Sarathai
The Deepwood, Tu, Eosucera

Sarathai touched her forehead to the unicorn as he whickered his thanks. Then he trotted away into the woods.

“Thank you, too, swift one,” she whispered.

Dawn had broken, yet here it was muted and gloomy, an eternal autumn. Sarathai fell quiet when she realised she was in the Deepwood, that sacred place that even the Wood Elves feared to tread. The domain of the ancients. And of gods.

The heavenly glow seemed to emanate from nowhere and yet everywhere at once, growing to envelop her utterly in its bosom of immortal power. Sarathai recognised the complete silence meant someone had come; the Goddess. Sarathai fell to her knees in rapture, blossoms springing into life all around her, and the message was delivered…

For a while after Isha departed, Sarathai wept. To be in the presence of such divine beauty should have left in her ecstasy, but the message had been dire, the visions of utter destruction of the Forests too terrible to countenance. The conflicting emotions entranced the juvenile Elf.

The voices of the ancients, like the breath of distant moaning, eternal winds, came to her ears. The Treekin were speaking.

“Little one, of those who exist, are mortal, on Selenia, there are but two who know the true threat you know of.”

“There are others, but they know not of the threat. They know only of another, almost as dangerous threat.”

“You will have to depart this realm, must put aside your dislike and distrust of others, or the Destroyer will win.”

Sarathai nodded understanding. To have been chosen by Isha filled her up with pride and joy, yet the burden was too great to bear upon her slender shoulders. That was when the animals and the birds approached, to offer her comfort and companionship.

One of the Treewives departed her slumber and prowled across the glade. Sarathai looked up into the emerald eyes of the dryad. The forest spirit said, “One is suspected, One is all but unknown, Eight there are, all that stand before the Fall.”

Sarathai tried to understand the enigmatic advice, but at that time it did not make sense to her. Yet she marked the words, knowing they would be essential to her success. She struggled to her feet, and felt the Will of the Forest aiding her, her svelte form lifted by enchanted wind like unseen helping hands, so that she almost floated, her bare feet barely rustling the leaves on the ground below.



The young treesinger knew that the Forest now depended on her, too, so that the power it had to lift her was also its weight of responsibility.

She made her solemn decision to accept the task, and her vow was delivered in reply to Isha by prayer.

* * *​

“I do not understand,” said Eithan the Hawk-Eyed. He had found her by the Crystal Mere, priming her pebbles with magic from the enchanted waters. “You will need warriors to protect you if you intend to go beyond the Forest! I will be your protector!”



Sarathai sighed and turned to look up at the proud young spearman, perched on the bough.

“Yes, you do not understand,” she said. “I do not go to make war. That is why I cannot take warriors. I will be… an emissary…”

“You know what they will do to you?” he cried. “The dark ones almost caught you again! You think the dwarfs or humans will show you mercy? They have their own foul torments…”

At that moment, a flutter of wings brought the tiny figurine of Glymmer to the lakeside.



The fairy saw Eithan and immediately giggled. From a pile of twigs, the sprite conjured a stick-man rider atop a great bird, carrying a spear, and Eithan’s eyes narrowed. Sarathai grinned when she saw what the fairy was doing.

The stick-man fought off more conjured twig-figures in a little mock battle, then jumped from his avian mount and gathered up a similarly simplistic figurine into his arms. A fallen autumn leaf denoted this was a red-haired girl. The following movements of the figures could not be mistaken in their intended meaning.

Sarathai looked away, reddening, but grinning despite herself.

Eithan growled in annoyance. “Stop that you rude little pixie! That’s not why I offer my service! If what she says is true, the whole forest is in peril, including your valleys!”

Glymmer giggled and waved a hand and the gyrating figures collapsed into a pile of twigs again. She stuck a tiny tongue out at the Elven warrior, her eyes flashing with mischief.

“Glymmer,” said Sarathai, becoming serious. “The Mage Council have finished deliberating? You bring a message?”

The fairy shifted uncomfortably on the spot for some moments then finally whispered, “There is no objection.”

Sarathai sighed. She had known they would be pleased to see the back of her, but she had thought they might at least come to see her off, or offer some kind of help or advice. The coldness of the reply – after she had spoken so passionately – left her deeply disappointed.

“Forget them!” said Eithan. “Those old fools represent inertia and stagnation. Nothing would ever get done if it were up to them… and they’re still embarrassed about your prediction of the Canim invasion, your pre-emptive actions showed them up! The truth is, they are too afraid to act.”

Sarathai nodded glumly. “Perhaps you are right, Eithan.”

She knew they had a point, however. Whatever happened in the outside world, the Forest had always endured. The true strength of the mightiest oak was the ability to bend in the storm, to sleep away the deepest winter and return to life when spring came again. Defending the borders and diverting enemies away down enchanted paths had served them well for many years.

But this threat could not be treated in this way. The vision she had been shown threatened the existence of the entire world, and every being within it.

Sarathai finished with her pebbles and added them to her pack. She gathered her dagger and bow and straightened. It was nearly time.

A thundering of hooves, and more Elves entered the lakeside glade, riding on powerful steeds. They were tall, fell warriors, with blades crossed on their backs, eyes burning with cold wychfire, and tattooed bodies. The leader of the fey riders wore a mantle of raven feathers over a bare chest painted with swirls of warpaint. He shook his mane of dark hair and fixed Sarathai with a hostile glare. His stallion, with hide the colour of charcoal, snorted and stamped.

Glymmer hissed and spat from where she had perched on a rock by the mere. Eithan jumped down from his tree and approached. “Kyarlu! What are you doing here?”

“Mind your attitude, Hawk-Eye,” said Kyarlu the Raven. “The Equos Riders have right to go anywhere we wish in the Forest!”

He addressed Sarathai. “So, it’s true then. Off on some other crazy errand. You will end up like that old idiot Ranu and disappear, you know?”

“And I am sure that will just break your heart,” said Sarathai, placing her hands on her hips.

“Hardly!” Kyarlu snorted with laughter, and so did his gang. “I’m here to make sure you actually leave this time.”

“She walks into peril to save your worthless neck!” Eithan interrupted.

“So she says,” Kyarlu spat back at him. “We all know why you pretend to believe in the hysterical mutterings of this little one, Eithan…”

His followers laughed nastily and Eithan reddened.

Sarathai stepped in between the two rivals. “Look, both of you. War is coming. The other nations of Selenia are unsettled. When the time comes you will both be needed here. Kyarlu, whatever you feel about me, you will do your duty.”

“I do not take orders from you, wench!” Kyarlu hissed, but he did not taunt her further. “Of course I will do what must be done for the Forest. The Equos will be here whether you come back or not. And maybe it is better that you do not. You make trouble for everyone!”

The riders galloped away then, Kyarlu apparently satisfied he had delivered his last insult before she left.

Eithan stepped toward Sarathai. After some moments of silence he said, “Where will you go first?”

She thought about this. “Awhurg.”

His eyes widened. “The dwarfs will throw you into a dungeon! You think they will trust you, or even listen? And how will you get there?”

“Quandiepia,” said Sarathai. “There are trade boats that cross the oceans…”

Eithan opened his mouth, astonished. If she was willing to cross the terrifying, trackless and violent realm of the seas… only now did he understand her depth of commitment. He stepped up and embraced her. Watching, Glymmer wiped a tiny little tear from her own cheek.

“Sara, I know you will not permit me to come. Please be careful,” he whispered into her ear. “The Drow are mounting raids again, they are looking to take advantage of the situation, for slaves.”

“I know,” she said, parting from the hug and looking him in the eyes. “I will. I’m sorry. This is just something I must do…”

And so the young Wood Elf set off to find fate...

* * *​

Isha
The Realm of the Gods



Isha made her opening roll and placed her champion on her path. The goddess of life and fecundity maintained the silent, enigmatic demeanour that always so annoyed yet intrigued her fellows. The noisier ones made their brash comments and bets.

Isha was watching and listening carefully. The introduction of the Destroyer had changed everything about this game.

Anubis said, "Seems your little wood elf might get in quite a bit of trouble should our champions’ paths cross."

Isha favoured him with a look. So, the rivalry begins immediately.

Isha would be gripped for eternity in the clutches of the Jackal god; he sucking her power from her like a vampire at her neck, bleeding away her children into his realm. It was a necessary part of the cycle. But like any clever parasite, he knew also never to completely devour his host, for then how could he feed again? And in a way, she needed him for the cycle of renewal. The mouse sometimes had to die so that the owl may live.

And so the uneasy truce was maintained between them. Sometimes she was a little ahead, sometimes she was a little behind, but forever she was locked in this embrace. And they had become oddly familiar, and almost friendly in their acceptance of this eternal duel.

But the Destroyer threatened both their realms. And he must surely know it. Indeed, all around the table now needed to focus their efforts.

Isha considered Anubis’ words. He was correct, of course. He had chosen a powerful champion. She knew little Sarathai could not hope to fight him directly. But… that was not the game at hand. No one champion could succeed in this game alone.

“Your arrogance will be your weakness,” she replied to Anubis.

She knew Sarathai had something Nyruel could never have; the essential quality for success…

Right on cue, Branka interrupted.

“Not unless my champion finds him first!” the drunk god boasted before belching.

Isha smiled knowingly at Anubis...

@darthbernael @Shadowsun @TheAdmiral