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Atalkez left Mhaldor, and too many conversations to post them all at this point.
This is the post that he left though!
Mhaldor,
I am not one for many words, nor do I post to the boards often. Unfortunately, I have no choice but to do so now.
I must leave you Mhaldor, though this is no easy decision. For many years, I have worked tirelessly on my skills as a Blademaster. I have done my best to emulate Lucaine Pyramides and his ways to the best of my abilities. Sometimes I have fallen short, and sometimes I have conquered. Each misstep giving me the Strength to take the right one. Through Mhaldor, and His chosen, I felt that I was doing what was meant for me in this world. I have never questioned that, until now.
These last few months, my rest has been plagued with a dream. Starting out in small glimpses, it has grown into a full memory of sorts. As time has gone on, more and more of the dream has become clearer in my mind. I see trees, death, ashes...but no faces no voices. By the third night, I could smell the blood on the ground, the reek of burnt flesh almost as if I was standing there myself.
Each night it progressed in this manner, until it culminated into my most recent dream. As I sat in the glade of trees, writing some missive, I suddenly heard a rustle around me. Cursing at my falling so deeply into my writing, my senses return in a flash. My sword has gone. Quickly spinning around, I find that I am surrounded by many men. One standing in the center was a man I had recognized, though I did not know how. I still do not know how I recognized the man.
He spoke to me, in a language that I did not understand, yet I heard every word as if my understanding of language had transcended all natural boundaries. He had come to kill me, and had taken my blade in my moment of weakness. As I watched him draw the blade, my blade, from it's scabbard; I could not help but feel that this night would not be like any other. He stabbed my blade deeply into a tree, continually taunting me as he did, knowing I could not attack him surrounded as he was. When he applied pressure to the blade, and the snap of the metal rung through the air, everything went black.
I heard a voice, saying my name. “Atalkez”, it said, “come to me.” I could not see, nor feel yet I suddenly was face to face with a human I had never seen. Staring at me with his cold eyes, I felt the chill of the grave enter my bones. Every moment seeming like an eternity, I silently begged for him to speak, to break the silence. His face never moved, nor his mouth, yet his voice rung deep inside my head. “I have watched you, Atalkez. I have watched your rise as you have worked tirelessly to improve. However, you lie to yourself, Atalkez. You lie to the world.”
The voice faded once more, as I seemingly floated in the void, my consciousness racing as I wondered if this was a dream. It seemed so real, everything felt so vivid. The man begin to warp and change, his sun-tanned skin becoming blackened as if by flames. The voice, originally a soft timbre, now ragged and cracking. “You must find yourself, Atalkez. The way of the Blade was not meant for this. Find purpose in your actions, more than slaughter. Find this purpose before you become like me, Atalkez. My love was too late, a river dried before it reached the lake. Will you be the same?”
As the voice faded from my mind, I found myself sitting in the Glade of Frozen Trees. I could not remember how I got there, nor how long I had been there. As I walked back to Mhaldor, my mind begin to put the pieces together. I know now, Lucaine Pyramides has challenged me. I accept his challenge, and must find this purpose he believes that I have. I will find this path, whatever it should take. I will not fail.
Thank you Mhaldor, for the Strength to make this decision. Thank you for the Strength to move forward alone.
In Strength,
Atalkez Al'Jafri
I don't know how to use spoilers so, sorry for the wall of text!
Penwize has cowardly forfeited the challenge to mortal combat issued by Atalkez.
You say in a trenchant voice, "Ok then, I believe everyone is here who said they wished to come so I
will get started now."
Kitiara shifts her weight in her stance as she rolls up the sleeves of her robe before removing her
dirk from its sheathe.
With a quick and proficient slice Kitiara cuts deeply into her left palm with her dirk. The red
liquid flows as she cups her hand slightly, allowing it to pool.
You say proudly in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Praise be to the Lord for His given Truths!"
Kitiara bends down and smudges the first line of an upright pentagram on the floor around the altar.
You say proudly in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Praise be to the Lord for His guided hand on
the path of Strength and Suffering!"
Kitiara smudges two more lines on the ground, continuing to form the pentagram.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Blessed be the Lord who leads us to walk His path,
teach us to leave our comfort zone and to push forward into progression."
Joining together the last two lines with her bloody palm, Kitiara stands back up and gives a small
satisfactory nod as she senses the completed pentagram around the altar. The dark crimson lingers
with an unsettling glow in the low, menacing lighting of the room.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Bestow upon us, Lord, the strength and the courage to
purge our weakness. May our drive, the Evil within us, be fierce and burn in our spirit, keeping the
black flame bright."
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "A sacrifice is to be had! We sacrifice the blood of the
willing on this day as the body becomes a vessel for His will to manifest."
Kitiara gestures towards Ysela, her arm extended out.
You say to Ysela in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Come, sister, and show bravery as you face
your end before the Lord."
Ysela tentatively steps forward.
You say to Ysela in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Your feeble mind and body are weak, untouched
by suffering. Let pain and anguish guide you into strength. Give Him your life, your body, and may
you grow stronger from facing your doom."
You say to Ysela in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Remove your robe and embrace your inevitable
suffering, stripped and vulnerable, belonging to Him."
Ysela slowly pulls plain black robes over her head, her hands shaking slightly as she does so.
You nod your head emphatically.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Now, come, and lie face down upon the altar."
Ysela gracefully prostrates herself on the altar.
Kitiara's face twists into a sadistic grin as she removes some rope from her rift and ties it around
one of Ysela's wrists, wrapping the rope down on the underside of the altar and back up to tie its
end around the other wrist. She yanks hard to tighten the loops.
Kitiara bends back down to place both hands on the blood drawn pentagram. Concentrating her efforts
towards an unseen spot in the room, the air around the pentagram starts to vibrate as she calls upon
dimensional energies. The blood subtly starts to curdle and bubble.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Fearless in the face of fear, courageous without limits,
may these energies called upon guide me through the sacrifice given to Him."
Kitiara stands back up and performs a small hop skip back to the altar, complete with a maddening
twirl as her face curls with sadistic glee.
You ask in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Shall we then?"
Kitiara envenoms her dirk with curare before holding it high up for all to see. The wet, curdling
venom on the edge of the blade drips with anticipation for its victim. She waves it to
and fro, allowing the light to flicker off of it.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "When paralyzed in our efforts to grow, we seek to be
pushed further to better serve Him."
Kitiara strikes down into Ysela's spine with the venomous dirk. She proceeds to twist the blade in a
full rotation as a loud crunching is heard from blade against bone.
Ysela grimaces and closes her eyes momentarily, her hands straining against her bonds.
The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Embrace the suffering that comes to us, allow it to
caress and guide you, stay focused on His Truths and you can never falter. Only then will clarity
present itself."
Kitiara removes her dirk from Ysela's spine and licks the blood off the blade before sheathing it.
Her fingertips start to lightly run down Ysela's back as she senses the body becoming stiff and
paralyzed.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Lord, take the sacrifice of the willing so all may
witness true devotion and be guided further into -your- glory!"
Kitiara grabs a fist full of Ysela's hair and pulls violently up for all to see her face. Holding
her head up high, Kitiara reveals her bare neck which beckons to be sliced.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "We thank you for your sacrifice. Praise be to the Lord
for the blood about to be spilled in His name."
Kitiara nimbly jumps onto the altar and straddles Ysela's back. Pulling back on Ysela's hair still,
she lightly caresses her dirk against Ysela's throat with the flat of her blade. A quiet tune being
hummed can be heard as her dirk playfully flicks off of Ysela's chin before finding itself on one
side of her throat.
Kitiara angles her dirk and adjusts her grip to dig the point into Ysela's throat. A deranged snarl
escapes her lips as she deeply slices across Ysela's neck in a slow methodical manner. The gurgling
sound of air entering the wound fills the room with menace as blood escapes and pours down onto
altar. You hear small bubbling murmurs as Ysela, unable to move, starts drowning on
her blood.
Paralysed and unmoving but painfully aware, Ysela's ragged breath comes in uneven spurts, her eyes
dilated and unfocused.
You say to Ysela in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Weakness must be eliminated from the physical
body. May the Lord bestow upon you strength through your witnessed suffering."
Kitiara reaches around and digs her nail into the neck wound, dipping her fingers into the blood.
She then proceeds to draw an upright pentagram on Ysela's back, her other hand still grasping
Ysela's hair.
Kitiara jumps down from the altar and bows her head whispering an empowering chant, the air around
the room starts to shift and become cold as death, the candle lighting flickers as she proceeds to
chant, progressively getting louder.
You exclaim to Ysela in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Your soul is the ultimate sacrifice to our
Master!"
You feel the power of the venom voyria flowing through your veins.
Kitiara leans down and licks the back of Ysela's thigh before biting hard down into the flesh with
her fangs, injecting voyria into the veins.
You sink your fangs into Ysela, injecting just the proper amount of voyria.
Blood begins to slowly drip from Ysela's nose.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "May this body find strength in its journey back to us."
Ysela coughs suddenly, expelling black fluid with bits of what looks to be tissue suspended in it.
A sickened menacing grin twists upon Kitiara's face as she senses Ysela's life drain away.
Ysela trembles slightly as a yellow jaundice begins to creep through her now-pale features.
You watch in horror as blood begins to seep from every pore in Ysela's body.
Ysela begins to convulse, and as her mouth opens in a silent scream, you hear a loud snapping as her
back shatters from the sheer force of the spasms. You have slain Ysela.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Amen."
Sydyk says in Mhaldorian in a low, rasping voice, "Amen."
Kisharo says in a calm, resonating voice, "Amen."
Adjutant Milenka Aristata, Sartai Magister says in Mhaldorian, "Amen."
Jurixe says in a low, silken voice, "Amen."
Borivoj says with a soft, drawling accent, "Amen."
Seeing her situation to be hopeless, Ysela embraces the cold clutches of death.
You say in Mhaldorian in a trenchant voice, "Thank you for witnessing."
Melodie says quietly with a flowing, cultured accent, "Amen."
Medi says, "If kit says to show up somewhere, bring an apron."
Medi says, "Rule of thumb."
BRB. Going Mhaldor...
There's nothing to really do about it. The Krymenian Academy is effectively going to be replacing it. No use having two organizations in the same city that do the same thing. So far it's kind of the marriage of the SW and the Institute.
I've lead that organization for what seems like a year now. It's been a heck of a ride. We were essentially an unofficial House in Hashan. A lot of people worked really hard to make sure it went well. A lot of people sacrificed a lot of their time to do what they did for the Institute.
It hurts to let go sometimes, I'll admit. But there's a bright future ahead.
Unfortunately I never kept any logs of the various experiments and surgeries I did. Just never really occurred to me to do so, and even then I was working on a way to make surgeries more... interactive, to say the least?.
Anyway, I'd like to share the last post to the Institute if nothing else. A little farewell.
http://pastebin.com/zEFMk07j
I have to say that the Institute was one of my favourite orgs to hit Hashan. Ever. I came back from dormancy to find a vibrant, flourishing org that was quite frankly more active than both of the Hashani houses. You guys were roleplaying and doing things in a city that was super quiet, and so I found myself participating and in a lot of ways as one of your biggest cheerleaders in the government. It makes me sad that the clan couldn't continue in some form.
Having said that, I hope you (and what's left of the Institute) bring that same energy and vibrancy to the Krymenian. I look forward to seeing what we all come up with together.
twitter - @spacemanreno
For those interested, storytime again!
The retelling of the tale of how Watchman proposed to Tart:
http://pastebin.com/74HHDfP4
(Nearly five months later)
The marriage of Lilian and Aquil: https://ada-young.appspot.com/pastebin/897aeadf
Thank you so much, @Artemis you just made things so awesome!
Raves to everyone who came!!
Reiloch shrugs helplessly.
Reiloch says with a slurred, throaty accent, "Fair enough."Reiloch chuckles long and heartily.
Reiloch says with a slurred, throaty accent, "You folk also don't seem to have many enemies."You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "Why would we?"
Reiloch nods his head emphatically.You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "All mortals are capable of dreaming, all mortals require sleep."
Reiloch says with a slurred, throaty accent, "I could ask the same about Nihilism. Opposing the Lord seems like a mad death wish."Reiloch shrugs helplessly.
You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "But this is not the case with my Lady."You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "Nightmares are messages still, they are curses through which one can transcend. just as any dream."
You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "It is the symbols intimate to your self, reflected in the perfect sphere of the dream."You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "The path inward visualized."
You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "They arenot curses, rather."Reiloch takes a long draught of cocktail from a Crawling Chaos.
Reiloch drinks deeply from a Crawling Chaos, his eyes clouding over with an ebon sheen that dulls as he swallows.
You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "They are not curses, they are messages through which one can transcend. is what i meant to say."Reiloch nods his head emphatically.
You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "Look at the Divines."You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "There are none who would consider my Lady an enemy, and few would not consider Her a friend."
You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "Hers is the domain of symbols. Where that which appears evil, contains, in explicit, the reason."You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "And that which appears good, is ephemeral and mystifying."
You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "But good and evil are not real, in the Dream."You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "They are symbols of the mortal spirit grappling with its role as one and as all."
Reiloch chuckles long and heartily.You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "The self reflected, in the sphere."
Reiloch says with a slurred, throaty accent, "I would argue that they aren't all that real in the waking world either."Reiloch smirks.
Reiloch takes a long draught of cocktail from a Crawling Chaos.Reiloch drinks deeply from a Crawling Chaos, his eyes clouding over with an ebon sheen that dulls as he swallows.
You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "They are different in the waking world. But that is the message the Dream can bring, that they are just constructed and unnatural."You say in a squeaky yet melodious voice, "Just as."
Reiloch nods his head emphatically.You are filled with proud joy as you declaim, "In dreams the truth is learned."
--
forgive my typing, i get excited. sort of had a moment where my understanding came inline with my articulation. and apologies to @reiloch for cutting the precursor of this conversation where he go to do some fun rp haha
Jurixe considers for a moment.
Navarr yawns suddenly and mightily.
Jurixe says in a low, silken voice, "Well."
Perl drools like a simpering idiot.
Marisella's lips curl up a little in the briefest of smiles.
Jurixe says in a low, silken voice, "I will let you decide for yourself."
Sylarana tilts her head curiously.
Jurixe says in a low, silken voice, "Tahquil has agreed to be the taste-tester for this one."
Jurixe says in a low, silken voice, "Quite bravely."
Jurixe proudly shows off a plate of rancid tuna doused in chocolate:
A vile, crusted film thickly coats around a rancid slab of tuna on the plate. The putrid piece of
fish assaults the air with its mephitic cloud. A pair of mhun eyes with a zangy orange are liquified
together to create the blackened crust. Bitter chocolate drenches the slab in a feeble attempt to
cover up the taste.
((((******For those who are interested more so in the details here is the pattern info:
Appearance (short_desc)
a plate of rancid tuna doused in chocolate
Dropped (long_desc)
A plate of rancid tuna lies repugnantly on the floor.
Examined (extended_desc)
A vile, crusted film thickly coats around a rancid slab of tuna on the plate. The putrid piece
of fish assaults the air with its mephitic cloud. A pair of mhun eyes with a zangy orange are
liquified together to create the blackened crust. Bitter chocolate drenches the slab in a
feeble attempt to cover up the taste.
First Eaten
You bite into the foul tuna as the bitter chocolate dissipates into the tart flavour of an
immature orange with a hint of iron. The mushy texture of the putrid tuna leaves you feeling
nauseous as you pluck an eyelash from your mouth.
Third Eaten
$+eater messily devours a plate of rancid tuna doused in chocolate. A nauseated expression
crosses $eater_his face as $eater_he reluctantly swallows the foul meat.
Smell
initially smells sweet before revealing its true, pungent stench.
Taste
has a sharp, revolting taste. )))
Galos winces in pain.
The corners of Rhobin's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.
Sarathai blinks.
Aereidhna shudders violently.
Tahquil dips her head slightly as she moves to Jurixe.
Phelia shivers violently.
Shirszae looks thoughtful and says with a faded Kamleikanese accent, "...Well then."
Kayeil cringes slightly.
Kelvin blinks.
Skye says with a muddled Thalassian accent, "Errr."
"Ummmm," Sylarana says uncertainly.
Miriew's bulbous eyes squeeze shut and open again in an exaggerated blink.
Ruth says in a quiet, contemplative voice, "Interesting."
Daerin coughs softly.
Marisella sways back and forth.
Melodie wrinkles her nose.
Anaria says in a clear voice, "Hmm.."
Ellodin says in a quiet but clear voice, "Looks like it tastes like chicken."
Yae Dawyn looks surprised and says to Tahquil, "Good luck."
Jurixe says to Tahquil in a low, silken voice, "Ah...good luck."
Sarathai utters a deep, rumbling laugh at Ellodin.
Jurixe says to Tahquil in a low, silken voice, "Tell us what you think."
Perl licks her lips.
You lick your lips.
Tahquil gives a unappreciative grumble as she simply stares at Jurixe.
Perl wipes her maw, clearing the drool from it.
Ruth says in a quiet, contemplative voice, "I need to stay for this one."
"Heh heh heh," Daerin chuckles.
Skye takes a hazelwood pot from the Wildwood from a pouch of shimmering blue silk.
Miriew takes a drink from an oaken vial.
Jurixe shrugs her slender shoulders slightly, her lips twitching.
Mathonwy curls his nose up and grimaces awfully.
Jurixe says to Tahquil in a low, silken voice, "I did warn you."
Skye holds out a hazelwood pot from the Wildwood helpfully.
Watchman says to Tahquil in an indomitable, patrician voice, "Perhaps a starburst tattoo is in order."
Tahquil takes a brief smell of a plate of rancid tuna doused in chocolate.
Galos nods her head emphatically.
Tahquil Maris, Hedgehog of the Valley says flatly, "It smells awful."
Daerin removes a braided silver ring.
Sylarana attempts to stifle her amusement but cannot help laughing aloud.
Rhobin utters a deep, rumbling laugh.
Melodie watches Tahquil with obvious interest.
Aereidhna's eyes sparkle with amusement.
Daerin utters a deep, rumbling laugh.
Ruth says dryly in a quiet, contemplative voice, "Without a doubt."
Crusher Mathonwy Corso, the Foolish says, "Unsurprising."
Jurixe says in a low, silken voice, "Can you...distinguish any elements in there?"
Taraus says helpfully with a throaty, lyrical accent, "There's probably a hefty element of rot in
there."
Shirszae presses her lips together, trying to hide her amusement.
Sarathai El'Rihwin says, "Possibly some chocolate."
Tahquil's eyes gleam with generosity.
Callously, Tahquil tips a plate of rancid tuna doused in chocolate to the side, letting the fish
fall to the floor before returning to her place amongst the crowd.
Tahquil rubs her hands together greedily.
Galos shakes her head.
Daerin gags and sputters.
Jurixe says in a low, silken voice, "Is anyone else brave enough to actually attempt eating
it?"
You crease your brow in a frown.
Galos says in a soft, serpentine voice, "I will."
Miriew takes a drink from an oaken vial.
Ellodin rubs his hands together greedily.
Galos says in a soft, serpentine voice, "I have eaten worse.."
"Heh heh heh," Daerin chuckles.
Faint amusement gleams in Jurixe's grey eyes as she nods to Galos.
Rhobin's eyes sparkle with amusement.
The sweet whimsical scent of lilacs perfumes the air around Ruth.
Kelvin chuckles long and heartily.
Galos shrugs helplessly.
Shirszae looks thoughtful and says to Galos with a faded Kamleikanese accent, "...Fare well."
"Heh heh heh," Galos chuckles.
Ellodin says in a quiet but clear voice, "Art is inspiration leaving the body, eh?"
Kayeil says in a silvery, elegant voice, "It looks like a cruel Mhaldorian punishment."
Aereidhna laughingly says to Galos with a lyrical southern accent, "Brave woman."
Ellodin says in a quiet but clear voice, "Let's see what kind of art you produce after this."
Melodie snickers at Ellodin.
Jurixe says to Galos in a low, silken voice, "Good luck."
Tahquil shakes her head.
Galos nods her head emphatically.
Perl creases her brow in a frown.
Tahquil leaves to the northwest.
Perl says with a Cyrenian accent, "Awwwww."
Galos takes a brief smell of a plate of rancid tuna doused in chocolate.
A glimmer of amusement brightens Shirszae's amber eye.
Daerin tilts his head curiously at Galos.
Galos says in a soft, serpentine voice, "Yea, the sickly sweet smell of decayed fish in chocolate."
Galos winces in pain.
Galos says in a soft, serpentine voice, "Chocolaty but bitter."
Ellodin says in a quiet but clear voice, "Mm, yes, standard smell that all children know from their
upbringings."
Watchman nods his head at Ellodin, showing his acceptance.
Shirszae smirks.
Galos says in a soft, serpentine voice, "Ok....here it goes."
Galos gulps nervously.
Miriew winces in pain.
Galos messily devours a plate of rancid tuna doused in chocolate. A nauseated expression crosses her
face as she reluctantly swallows the foul meat.
Sylarana gives Galos a wild cheer!
Taraus's eyes gleam with generosity.
Taraus gives a bottle of rum to Galos.
Taraus rubs her hands together greedily.
Daerin gags and sputters.
Rhobin squints.
Galos winces in pain.
Navarr shudders violently.
Galos says in a soft, serpentine voice, "I need like rum..."
Galos takes a long pull from a bottle of rum, coughing and blinking her eyes rapidly as the drink
burns her throat.
Galos says in a soft, serpentine voice, "Oh thank Scarlatti."
Ellodin says in a quiet but clear voice, "You're just gonna leave it in your system?"
Miriew takes a drink from an oaken vial.
Galos says in a soft, serpentine voice, "You can taste the chocolate first....and the sour taste of
orange."
Galos says in a soft, serpentine voice, "But after that...its all rot."
Perl licks her lips.
Ellodin says in a quiet but clear voice, "Guess there are two exits for that inspiration to leave
the body."
Phelia wags her tail.
Melodie whispers to Ruth with a flowing, cultured accent, "Maybe that would poison properly."
Navarr yawns suddenly and mightily.
Galos snorts arrogantly.
Galos says in a soft, serpentine voice, "Ugh."
"Heh heh heh," Marisella chuckles.
Jurixe says in a low, silken voice, "Well then."
Medi says, "If kit says to show up somewhere, bring an apron."
Medi says, "Rule of thumb."
This was unspeakably funny to my mind at an unholy far too sleep-deprived hour. I GAVE HIM ONE JOB.
art stream / twitter / ko-fi
--------------------------------------
Speech
http://pastebin.com/FUFuSsM5
Fashion Show (Nobles)
http://pastebin.com/3DHGV0XB
Fashion Show (Adventurers) + Winners
http://pastebin.com/MmiqGqxq
Cooking Demonstrations
http://pastebin.com/eSBbG0Nu
Cooking Competition dishes
(I didn't get the log of what was happening because I was out restocking carts)
http://pastebin.com/696P2n0c
Much thanks to @Skye, @Taraus and @Nicca, for volunteering out!
- With sharp, crackling tones, Kyrra tells you, "The ladies must love you immensely."
- (Eleusian Ranger Techs): Savira says, "Most of the hard stuff seem to have this built in code like: If adventurer_hitting_me = "Sarathai" then send("terminate and selfdestruct")."
- Makarios says, "Serve well and perish."
- Xaden says, "Xaden confirmed scrub 2017."
http://pastebin.com/E5ezUgvK
It's been cleaned up a lot and I only kept the stuff that was actually relevant to what was going on.
http://pastebin.com/J1FWHWV4
(Didn't realise you posted, @Kyrra and I spent all morning cleaning it
Her ship was haunted though by something not of her undead crew. A merrow tails her suitor who serves the unnamed windcutter, a man she accidentally killed in her naivety. Negotiations were made for her own repentance and she joined the ship as their figurehead.
This is her consecration ritual :
http://pastebin.com/RSJxUyzk
Syb being told to go see what's up with Golgotha, goes to Chaos Plane:
Before the Infernal Throne.
Towering fifteen feet tall and bathed in flames, the armour-clad figure of Jy'Barrak Golgotha sits atop the Infernal Throne.
You see a single exit leading north.
You have arrived at your destination!
You drop to one knee before Jy'Barrak Golgotha, Emperor of Chaos.
You say reverently in a rich, smoky voice, "Salutations, Your Imperial Highness."
A cold, terrible fury pervades the chamber at your approach.
Jy'Barrak Golgotha, Emperor of Chaos says, "You dare?"
The emperor rises from his throne, raising an armoured fist and pointing it scornfully at you.
You say placidly in a rich, smoky voice, "I do, Your Worship."
Jy'Barrak Golgotha, Emperor of Chaos exclaims, "Be gone!"
You're drawn screaming into its hellish maw.
You stand up.
Desecrated graveyard (indoors).
Leafless trees reach out with skeletal fingers to form a lattice canopy over this humble graveyard surrounded by a low, dilapidated plank fence. The white pebble path running through its centre passes by rows of pale, time-worn tombstones. An eerie silence prevails here, and a cold grey light spills over countless unearthed coffins, their contents strewn across the ground. Bones and clothing are scattered in oddly organised heaps here, while the names upon the broken tombstones themselves are clawed and gouged into illegibility. Near the middle of the graveyard, a few long, bleached white are arranged into a pentagram, the earth surrounding them soaked with blood.
You see exits leading east, southeast, west, down, in, and out.
A gelatinous pit demon strides in.
Spinning with impressive flexibility, a pit demon's foot shoots out and snaps into your jaw.
Spinning with impressive flexibility, a pit demon's foot shoots out and snaps into your jaw.
You bleed 19 health.
[And then I died.]
Sybilla meeting up for tea with @Aodfionn on her 100th birthday (and pissing him off with cheesy Jim Carrey quotes):
Aodfionn says to you in a low, rumbling voice, "It will be better to come now."
Aodfionn takes a long draught of herbal tea.
You say wistfully in a rich, smoky voice, "So you're telling me there's a chance..."
Aodfionn grunts noncommittally at you.
Same day, she gets off her face on snow blossoms at a Caer Witrin concert and "performs" this ditty she "learned from a corsair I was f... uuuh following":
Taraus's eyes sparkle with amusement.
You sing in a strident, discordant voice, "Tall up to yea height and with a big..."
You cough softly.
You look sceptical and say in a monotone voice, "Glass."
Xyther cackles hellishly.
You have emoted: Regaining her stride, Sybilla continues more boldly.
Jarrod pulls out a chair sits down, watching you.
You sing with a common, dockside accent, "Now, says I, "Where go ye, with yer glass o' beer?""
You sing with a common, dockside accent, "And "won't ye come with me f'r a walk 'long the pier"."
You sing in a loud, strident voice, "Oh boys ye all ken what goes on round the dock,."
With a lopsided grin, Taraus settles backwards onto a chair, her attention riveted.
It is now the 17th of Scarlatan, 691 years after the fall of the Seleucarian Empire.
You sing in a loud, strident voice, "But shame I did nae see she had such a..."
You pause a moment to gather your thoughts.
Phelia tilts her head curiously at you.
You say in a hesitant voice, "Shock."
Taraus stifles a snort.
You stretch languidly.
You sing in a confident, grating voice, "See, on Valnuary the ships all come to moor,."
You sing in a confident, grating voice, "And what should chance down one but three and a score,."
You sing in a confident, grating voice, "Writhing, enormous, and ever so slick,."
You sing in a confident, grating voice, "Pounds o' sea-whelks with a bonnie wee..."
You have emoted: Sybilla's brows knit in an uncertain frown.
You sing in a wavering voice, "Ahm, stick."
You sing with a common, dockside accent, ""Come now" said I, "if ye will permit"."
You sing with a common, dockside accent, ""We'll trade us some cockles fer a chance at yer...""
Watchman whispers to Taraus in an indomitable, patrician voice, "I did not think her so proper."
Watchman inclines his head marginally towards you.
You have emoted: Trailing off at the end of the line, Sybilla rigidly straightens her posture, clearing her throat.
You say in a monotone voice, "...This next part was just hummed."
You have emoted: Reaching behind the counter, and coming just short, Sybilla settles to sip at the dregs of an unattended glass.
You sing in a cacophonous, jovial voice, "But, boyos, me boys oh, I'm such a sour chap."
You sing in a cacophonous, jovial voice, "F'r I dinnae judge she'd not grace me lap,."
You sing in a cacophonous, jovial voice, "'stead I f'r me troubles got only a slap..."
Mathonwy is enveloped in translucent fire for a moment and is gone, his soul safe until he returns to Achaea.
You have emoted: Sybilla holds the last, raucous note and stops for a conspiratorial pause.
You sing hastily in a cacophonous, jovial voice, "And later to learn that me lass had the clap."
Taraus attempts to stifle her amusement but cannot help laughing aloud.
You tilt your head and give a huge, exaggerated wink.
Boosteya gives a trillingly melodic laugh.
Watchman's eyes sparkle with amusement.
Exos chuckles mechanically.
Illidan attempts to stifle his amusement but cannot help laughing aloud.
Perl cringes and drops her face into her palms with a shake of her head.
Phelia snickers softly to herself.
Jarrod claps his hands together merrily.
Exos silently claps.
Percival, the innkeeper sweeps across the floor, leaping and twirling like a true master.
You have emoted: In attempt to bow, Sybilla only manages to stagger over a stool, and swiftly scrambles to regain her posture.
Later that night, on the battlements:
Looking back and forth surreptitiously, an Ashtani corsair raises a bottle of rum to his lips and takes a lusty swig. He hands it back to you with a broad grin.
An Ashtani corsair exclaims, "Cheers, mate!"
You wink conspiratorially at an Ashtani corsair.
You ask an Ashtani corsair in a rich, smoky voice, "What time do you get off?"
Szanthax winks conspiratorially at you.
The corners of Jhui's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.
An Ashtani corsair says, "Always last to get off, Ma'am. S'only polite."
Others are longer/more serious tone and will probably need pastebinning. I'll get to them when I have a chance. Enjoy!
In this, Jurixe is learning how to ride a horse.
[spoiler]
Tree-lined expanse in the grounds of the Savril estate.
Stories by Jurixe and Stories by Jurixe 2
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dem feels
Penwize has cowardly forfeited the challenge to mortal combat issued by Atalkez.