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Roleplay Logs!



  • DragonknightDragonknight Member Posts: 220 ✭✭✭✭ - Eminent
    edited February 26
    Uh, if I deleted something you said or did, it was probably dumb. Just kidding. :/  Sorry.
  • SarathaiSarathai Member Posts: 2,139 @@ - Legendary Achaean
    Jurixe said:
    Because @Dragonknight is the best, here is a cleaned up log of what went down at the Asterian Convention, and the surprise we all got. Thank him for his hard work, and enjoy.

    "A humble painter exclaims, "Not later, now, woman! The Gods themselves are my muse this day!""

    Not gonna lie, I laughed.
    - (Eleusis): Ellodin says, "The Fissure of Echoes is Sarathai's happy place."
    - 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."

  • JurixeJurixe Where you least expect itMember Posts: 1,551 @@ - Legendary Achaean
    Ordinarily I would have responded properly, but there was a lot of behind the scenes coordination going on and I didn't have time to do a proper response!

  • EllodinEllodin HawaiiMember, Seafaring Liason Posts: 773 @@ - Legendary Achaean
    Related to the thread that requests logs of Babel, let's see some more of the serious things people take part in! I'll slowly post a few that have passed statute of limitations, assuming people are interested in small pieces of times gone by.
    I don’t regret the days that I discarded,
    I don’t feel sorry for the lilac of my soul.
    The purple rowan burning in the garden
    Can’t warm and comfort anyone at all.
  • HalosHalos Member Posts: 1,402 @@ - Legendary Achaean
    rite of prayer and old bonfire ritual thing from like a million years ago
    Cloaked in sorrow, the vermillion moon begins to fade, giving way to the approaching dawn.

    Approbating the beauty of the golden horizon, a crystalline vambrace suddenly flares to life on your forearm, transient whorls of aureate luminescence erupting from its glassy surface.

    [offerings and chatter]

    Bells chime out, greeting the dawn.

    Cooper Ravenwind says, "We missed dawn."

    You say, "Dawn arrives."
    You say, "All kneel."
    You say, "Save devotionists."

    Alexius drops to one knee.
    Shunsui drops to one knee.
    Cooper drops to one knee.
    Adet drops to one knee.
    Veldrin drops to one knee.
    Hideyoshi drops to one knee.
    Arubus drops to one knee.
    Kaiu drops to one knee.
    Krognak drops to one knee.
    Lyr lowers his head respectfully.
    Beatrice lowers her head respectfully.

    Your congregation assembled, you stand ready to begin the rites of prayer.

    You recite the ancient verses, allowing the power of your words to flow through the audience.

    You chant a mantra of purity, peace radiating from you to embrace your beloved children.

    You bid the congregation rise, the rites of prayer complete.
    You gasp with the realisation that Arubus has reached the level of Lionised.

    You smile softly.
    You say, "I will say a few words."

    Traelor nods, listening carefully.
    Beatrice tilts her head and listens intently.

    You have emoted: Halos taps the cobbles of the street with the heel of his boot.

    You say, "On Shallam."
    You have emoted: Halos nods towards the sea, a sad smile on his face.

    You say thoughtfully, "There is an extraordinary exchange between a place and the souls which live within it."

    You say, "The presence of life changes the place, and that place shapes our lives. Life and place assume a character like none other, indelibly. Each is inextricably tied to the other, quietly sustaining the collective memory of a people like the tributaries of a slow-moving river."

    You say, "Memories accrue quickly in this current, and it is difficult to forget."

    You have emoted: His voice gentle and paternal, Halos interlocks his fingers before himself in a gesture of concordance.

    You say, "Last month Cyrene held a memorial service for the fallen."

    You say, "It comes to me that we have done little to remember ourselves."

    Rain cascades down from the skies, drenching you and your environment.
    A Jaruvian retriever puppy enters from the east, emitting two sharp barks as he runs.

    You say, "I would like to give us the opportunity now to speak on a memory."

    Zuko arrives from the northwest.
    Zuko clasps his hands before himself and performs a simple, respectful bow.
    A Jaruvian retriever runs to the north, tail wagging furiously behind him.

    You say, "Raise your hand or step forward if you wish to speak."

    You nod at Zuko.
    You say, "Welcome."

    Beatrice raises an eyebrow questioningly.
    Beatrice coughs softly.
    Wisdomseeker Zuko Shu'in-Crescent says, "Thank you."

    You nod at Beatrice.

    Rain cascades down from the skies, drenching you and your environment.

    Priestess of Light, Lady Beatrice Shu'in-Crescent says, "My fondest memory is sitting by the lake in the Basilica and watching the wind blow ripples across the water. I could study while smelling the flowers and listen to the Priests as they taught others. Later in life my husband and I used to sit there as well and talk about the future. That, I will always remember."
    Beatrice steps back beside Veldrin.
    Veldrin gently takes Beatrice's hand in his own.

    Canasius raises his hand.

    You nod at Canasius.

    Protector Canasius Wyntersol, Protege of Lady Ferrous says with a thick Rajamalan accent, "I maybe young but we I have seen many defenses of the city of Shallam and seen us do many things to help our allies and friends, I would not say we have done little to remember ourselves instead we have all show humility and not announce to the realm all our accomplishments and kept them to ourselves to show we are strong and have no need to brag or make ourselves look bigger then we are."
    Canasius takes a step back and continues to listen.

    You nod at Canasius.

    The earth shakes with an all-consuming crash of thunder, dwarfing mundane sounds for a brief moment in its tide of supernatural fury.

    You say, "You are all very quiet."

    You say, "Remnant of Shallam, close your eyes and listen then, to the memories shared between us."

    You have emoted: Halos closes his eyes, beckoning you to do the same.

    Wincing, Aktillum covers his eyes with his hands.
    Traelor closes his eyes briefly.
    Shunsui closes his eyes, and bows his head.
    Ania closes her eyes.
    Zuko closes his eyes, remembering the vast memories of Shallam.

    You say, "Do you remember the high walls of sandstone and the white marble facade? The scent of baking on Viziers Street. The cries of the fishmonger in the marketplace?"

    You say slowly, "Remember the glimmering of the golden domes at daybreak, the wavering smoke of burnt offerings before the Chrysalis Basilica. Envision paradise birds soaring amongst its ivory pinnacles. The shifting of the glow at evensong's gloaming."

    A wave of heat roils off of a funeral pyre, warming your face.

    You have emoted: Halos smiles, the timbre of his voice rising as he speaks.

    You say, "Now, the view from the steps of the embowed archway on Hillwalk way. Here, the calling of guards from the parapets. There, the heady scents of palatial pleasure gardens giving way to the sleek lines of a crystalline spire. It is still very clear in our memories."

    Krognak smiles softly.

    You say, "Now open your eyes."

    Within the fire, vague images solidify: Glittering with enchanted light, the domes of Shallam illuminate the Jewel in a pleasing aura of soft light.

    Aktillum removes his hands from over his eyes.
    Shunsui slowly opens his eyes, and raises his head.
    Zuko opens his eyes slowly.
    Alexius smiles softly.

    You have emoted: Opening his eyes, Halos releases his clasped hands, allowing them to fall to his side. Gathering his robes, he strides a few paces northwards, looking upwards  the unearthly glow above the forested hills before he continues.

    You say softly, "The waters yield little. But fire has shown us much in these past few months."

    The fire shifts, and the images fade back into obscurity.

    Poised at the very peak of the firmament, the fiery sun casts its radiant gaze across the land.
    Dark, oppressive clouds swirl in the skies above, occluding the lights of the firmament and casting gloom across the earth.

    You say, "The skies over the Pillars of Heaven bleed. Think again back to what Shallam was."

    You say softly, "Now remember those domes blackening and burning."

    The fire within a funeral pyre snaps and crackles, hungry to consume.

    Shunsui creases his brow in a frown.

    You frown and say, "The ground heaving. Flagstones shatter underfoot. Towers collapsing."
    You have emoted: Halos falters, lapsing into silence momentarily.

    You say, "The guard raises a ululation against the ancient foe. A great shroud of undeath descends. Fire blazes from the parapets. The torrential deluge sweeping through alleys and archways. The last days of Shallam."

    You have emoted: His expression becoming serious, Halos turns eastward and raises a hand, curling it into a tight fist before himself.

    You say, "I will tell you what I remember."
    You say with an eastern accent, "Life."
    You say in a cold voice, "And death."
    You say with an eastern accent, "We fled a besieged Jewel, and the city fell into the sea. Shallam is lost. Recall the flame and ruin. Never. Forget. It."

    You have emoted: Halos bites off each word, his expression changing as he realizes again the import of them.

    A shadow falls over Krognak's countenance as he furrows his brow.

    You say with an eastern accent, "At the memorial last month I heard many prayers. May hopes that Shallam will rise again and take up the banner and old customs."

    You have emoted: Halos nods towards the waves lapping at the harbour.
    A wave of heat roils off of a funeral pyre, warming your face.

    You say with an eastern accent, "Jealous waves cling to our lost home just as you cling to your empty belief that Shallam will rise again."
    You say stridently with an eastern accent, "I tell you now. It will not. Not in its stones, not in its bricks, and not from its people. The Destroyer did His work well."

    Veldrin raises an eyebrow questioningly.

    You frown at Veldrin.

    You say quietly with an eastern accent, "No longer can you simply be Crystalline mage or Sentaari monk."
    You have emoted: Halos jabs an accusing finger at the gathering, his dark eyes flashing in anger.
    You say with an eastern accent, "Our stalwart Templars no longer patrol quiescent streets. Serpents no longer watch vigilantly from the shining walls."

    Rain cascades down from the skies, drenching you and your environment.

    You say with an eastern accent, "The high places have been cast down and the altar for Empyrean worship is no more! Shallam was in the thousand year old cobbles and the gleaming Citadel just as it is within you and me and Pericles and Earda, and all who perished on that black day."

    You say with an eastern accent, "The Jewel, and the lives therein, lie broken."

    Rain cascades down from the skies, drenching you and your environment.

    You say with an eastern accent, "The time of wandering has begun."

    You have emoted: Halos stops momentarily before turning towards the multitude again, a look of hope arriving on his olivine countenance.
    You say with an eastern accent, "We were Shallamese. We will become something stronger."

    An eerie, aubergine fire limns the stormy sky as tendrils of unnatural lightning dance from cloud to cloud.

    You say with an eastern accent, "We must adapt if we are to survive. To fight against the evil which destroyed our home, and that which yet threatens Creation."

    You say with an eastern accent, "The Lord Deucalion, the Righteous Fire Rekindled, looks ahead, not behind Him. He counsels us to do the same."

    You say with an eastern accent, "Our heritage is a precious thing. We will never forget."
    You angrily say with an eastern accent, "But we cannot go on as if nothing has changed."
    You say with an eastern accent, "I leave you now with this thought, and I hope you all ask yourselvese: "What of our broken past am I willing to sacrifice in His fires as we step into a new future?""

    You say with an eastern accent, "Think carefully on it."
    You have emoted: Halos coughs violently, lowering his gaze before stepping back and looking towards the flames once more.

  • HalosHalos Member Posts: 1,402 @@ - Legendary Achaean
    You tell Father Garron, "Your words have struck a chord with me, Father Garron."

    A priest smiles warmly at you as he enters from the west.

    Father Garron nods quietly, taking up a spot towards the back of the crowd.

    Brother Krognak "Mischief" Obuun says in a deep, soft voice, "I am willing to sacrifice nothing of our past. Without our history, we are nothing. I do not cling to the past in the hopes that it will return, but I hold its memories for the lessons taught, a reminder of a beautiful time, and as a somber reminder of why it is that we persevere through these difficult times."

    Priestess of Light, Lady Beatrice Shu'in-Crescent says, "If I may speak, my past made me what I am. I'm a refugee now, I have lost my home, my House lies somewhere broken beneath that water, but its ideals, its tenets, are what gave me the strength to stay true to my beliefs. I will not forget. The days of calling on the Templars to slay the thieves that plagued our youngsters, the days of running to find the orphans, they may be gone, but they shaped us. Yes we will move on, we will continue to grow, change, adapt, but we will not forget who, and what, we are, and where we came from. What will I sacrifice? I have already sacrificed much. I watched the Church fall, and still I moved on. The city fell, and still I move on. I will not forget. Our turn will come, it will come."

    You nod at Beatrice.
    You say with an eastern accent, "Do not forget."

    Traelor nods his head in agreement.

    You say with an eastern accent, "The past is what makes us who we are. Our decisions, our oaths, our beliefs, and our customs."
    You say with an eastern accent, "But do not fail to move beyond it."

    Hideyoshi carefully lowers the hood on a hooded white cloak decorated with lotus blossoms.

    Rain cascades down from the skies, drenching you and your environment.

    You say with an eastern accent, "I will make the first sacrifice then."

    You have emoted: Halos strides towards the pyre, the flames licking his form as he approaches its fiery glow.

    You remove the mantle of the Caliph.

    You say with an eastern accent, "The Te'Serra have departed, and a new world awaits us."

    You put the mantle of the Caliph into a funeral pyre.
    A column of white-hot fire explodes upward into the sky as the power bound to the Mantle of the Caliph is set free.
    A column of white-hot fire explodes upward from Jaru, momentarily illuminating the skies with a brilliant glow.

    Whispering quiet words of prayer, Father Garron gently swings a gleaming brass thurible by its chain.
    Sweet, incense-laden smoke billows out, lingering on the air.

    You have tmoted: Halos turns towards the multitude once more, determination on his face.
    You have tmoted: Halos places his hand over his heart.
    Melodie arrives from the northwest.

    You say with an eastern accent, "My dedication to the Light is here."
    You say with an eastern accent, "Not under those waves."

    The wind pushes hot ashes from the pyre, the remnants of the mantle. The soot lightly touches your face.

    You say with an eastern accent, "The Light shall never fail, so long as there are those to support its principles."

    Lyr smiles softly at you.

    Beatrice walks slowly forward towards the pyre, trembling slightly as she faces the heat. Turning to listen to Father Halos, she remains silent as she removes her Mitran circlet, nodding her head wordlessly as she falls on one knee.

    Beloved Traelor Inamora-Crescent, Seraph of the Assembly says in a tired, wheezing voice, "Mother..."
    A shadow falls over Traelor's countenance as he furrows his brow.

    Beatrice drops to one knee.
    Opening his mouth wide, Veldrin gapes in wonder at Beatrice.

    Lyr looks at Beatrice, frowning, as a tear falls from his left eye.
    Zuko creases his brow in a frown.

    Aktillum removes a ring of Divine Justice.

    The pyre rages high, eager to consume.

    Priestess of Light, Lady Beatrice Shu'in-Crescent whispers, "She may have perished, but I will sacrifice this, because the Light is within me, and it was She who taught me to grow."

    Beatrice puts a luminous circlet of inlaid mithril into a funeral pyre.
    Fire swirls upward as the pyre consumes the circlet.

    Beatrice steps back to take her place beside her husband.
    Father Lyr Darion, Empyreal Archpriest says to Beatrice, "You are an inspirational woman. I am proud to stand alongside you."

    You have tmoted: Halos watches the flames of the pyre, his expression reverent.

    Asmodron descends from above.

    As Asmodron carefully lights a red candle, its horsehair wick immediately catches fire, casting a soft glow upon the sephirotic markings on the pillar's side.

    Night's Embrace, Sage Asmodron Dicondron, of Dark Woods says with an Arcadian accent, "If I may."

    The flames of the pyre diminish, drawing back to their normal light.

    Asmodron's eyes gleam with generosity.
    Asmodron drops a red candle.

    Night's Embrace, Sage Asmodron Dicondron, of Dark Woods says with an Arcadian accent, "Oh spirits of the departed."
    Asmodron jerks violently south.

    Cooper tells you, "Continue."

    Asmodron enters from the south, a wyvern reflected in his eyes.
    Asmodron coughs softly.
    Night's Embrace, Sage Asmodron Dicondron, of Dark Woods says with an Arcadian accent, "Take that as a no then."

    Asmodron picks up a red candle.
    Asmodron inclines his head politely.
    Asmodron begins to flap his wings powerfully, and rises quickly up into the firmament.

    Silas arrives from the northwest.

    You say with an eastern accent, "I have no other words to impart this day, wanderers, save to say that the servants of Good have always understood that there is great power in sacrifice, self-sacrifice most of all."

    You say with an eastern accent, "The sermon is finished, all. Thank you all for coming."

    Krognak clasps his hands before himself, faces you, and performs a simple, respectful bow.

    You bow your head in solemn respect towards all those in the room.
    Kaiu places her right fist in the palm of her left hand, representing Wisdom before force, and bows to you.

    Zuko tells you, "Thank you, Caliph."

    Jarrod Lucoster, Instrument of Decay says in a smooth, low voice, "Remember well, the rich history of Shallam. Of time spent feebly fighting against the strength of Ashtan. Remember well your place, refugees."

    Cooper adopts a strange position and a look of pure menace flashes in his eyes.

    Beatrice growls menacingly.

    Beloved Traelor Inamora-Crescent, Seraph of the Assembly says in a tired, wheezing voice, "He's gone."

    Your eyes sparkle with amusement.

    Cooper Ravenwind says, "It always entertains me when someone who cannot fight their way out of a paper bag brags of strength."

    Father Garron says, "Big mouthed and small minded."

    Traelor nods his head at Father Garron, showing his acceptance.
    Beatrice smiles softly at Father Garron.

    Captain Delphinus Windancer, the Gatecrasher says, "When the barbs melt so easily into the darkness, I doubt if they've the strength to pierce."

    Father Garron says, "He is from the city that holds the Mad God in veneration. His mind is poisoned."
    Father Garron shrugs.
    Bowing and humbly excusing himself, Father Garron leaves to the west.

    You beg your guardian angel to grant escape and a safe refuge.
    Your guardian takes you by the hand, and the world begins to fade slowly to black.

    Silas looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

    Silas puts a string of crystalline prayer beads into a funeral pyre.
    The flames within a funeral pyre rapidly consume a string of crystalline prayer beads.

    You say with an eastern accent, "Fare well, all."
    You have emoted: Halos gathers his robes and prepares to depart.

    Your mind fills with light as reality fades back into view.

  • DaeirDaeir AustraliaMember, Secret Squirrel Posts: 6,039 @@ - Legendary Achaean

    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Kneel before Me, Deacon."

    You drop to one knee before Aurora.

    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "The role of Deacon of Celestia is one born from the culmination of the Divine will of the Righteous Fire and 

    I. One that comes with the burden of guiding the servants of Devotion. This is not a role that We choose to fill easily."

    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "At its heights, your presence, the role of Deacon, is a boon to the priests and paladins of Good, that they 

    too might experience the devout bliss of their Faith."

    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "At the lowest ebb, the harsh reality of punishing those who fall from Our grace weighs heavily on your 

    shoulders, yours the burden to bear."

    Aureate light spills from the hands of the Lightbringer, Her fingers cool, pressed against your forehead as soft blessings fall from Her 


    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "By Fire and Light shall your burden be shared, nurtured by Our eternal belief. A token of Our faith placed 

    in you, We gift to you a symbol of Our approval."

    Turning to a nearby pedestal, the Lightbringer lifts a small rod, holding it aloft for all to see.

    With a loud crack, motes of ivory and gold pour into the chamber, gathering around the Lightbringer and twining sinuously about Her form.

    At a sharp gesture from the Goddess of Light, the particles surround the rod, raising it high into the air to be captured within the 

    dazzling stream of Light.

    Raising the Scimitar of the Dawn, Aurora severs the flow of Light, leaving the rod gleaming with a golden hue.

    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Blessed by Light, to guide your steps."

    Preceded by a deafening explosion, righteous flames erupt around the base of the rod, the intense heat quickly engulfing the metal in a 

    white-hot inferno.

    The Lightbringer steps forward again, the Scimitar of Righteousness slashing through the fiery torrent.

    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Blessed by Fire, to keep you ever on the path of the Righteous."

    As one, the two streams of energy delve into the heart of the metal rod, coalescing into a blinding aura of Light and Fire. In one joyous 

    explosion, the particles dissipate into the surrounds, revealing a magnificent staff, thrumming within a golden nimbus.

    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Crafted from the Divine will of Deucalion and I, We gift to you the Staff of Celestia. Bear your burden well,

     Deacon. Guard Our gift well, for it knows only your personal touch."

    Daeir nods reverently, head deeply lowered.

    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Take your token, Deacon."

    Aurora flashes you a joyous smile.

    Daeir grasps the Staff of Celestia gently with a gauntleted fist, raising it into the air before him.

    A pure, unblemished construct of devotional power, this magnificent staff glows with an ethereal incandescence. Twin torrents of cascading 

    energies intertwine endlessly within the spire's clear quartz core, one glittering with a weave of gold and ivory motes, the other surging 

    with an intense white-hot flame. A gleaming golden crystal crowns its top, encircled by a resplendent phoenix worked in polished ivory. The 

    creature's burnished plumes of brass shimmer with a nacarat hue. The staff terminates in an ornately inscribed platinum ferrule, which bears 

    a repeating pattern of polished eudialyte and red tourmaline cabochon stones embedded along its breadth in distinctly fluvial filigree. A 

    numinous aura thrums about the staff, yielding an expression of authority that is unmistakably of Divine origin.

    With a sibilant 'shhhiiiinnngggt!', you smoothly sheathe an ornate steel rapier.

    With a sibilant 'shhhiiiinnngggt!', you smoothly sheathe an ornate steel rapier.

    A low, hollow echo resounds in the air as an ornate steel rapier slides into place within a mottled taenite and platinum scabbard, the 

    etching upon its banding pulsing with a dull cobalt-hued glow.

    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "It is fitting, I feel, that he who has worked longest and hardest within the role of Deacon, should receive 

    Our first gift."

    Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "We are hopeful that the Staff responds solely to your touch, though One can never be certain until the myth 

    is tested."

    A wry smile flits across Aurora's lips.

    You say quietly, "A honor beyond description, Lady."

    You begin to wield the Staff of Celestia in your left hand.

    touch staff

    An iridescent spark of fire and light wreathes around your hand and travels up your arm, the warmth both soothing and familiar. A sense of 

    supreme Enlightenment floods your being, the support and trust of the Gods of Light and Fire a palpable presence around you.

    And so, the Staff of Celestia was born. One of dozens of moments from my time as Deacon where I absolutely adored the game and everything about it. I miss the position so much.
  • KalilaKalila Member Posts: 86 ✭✭✭ - Distinguished
    Torben said:
    One of my first RP attempts. Torben is an alchemist, and was RPing him doing some experiments having been to Ageiro with those metal animals. I had planned on customising a mount, and it turned out to be a scorpion. Someone asked about it so I thought i'd share!  


    You smile and say in a muffled voice, "Hey mentor."

    Physiology workshop in the Lyceum (indoors).
    Immaculate and surgical, this workshop bears a clean, clinical air. Finely wrought metal tools line 
    the low stone tables, and glistening fluids bubble in glass tubes, dripping irregularly within. High,
    arching windows line the northern and eastern walls, the brilliant hues of the gardens beyond 
    alleviating the starkness of the chamber. Large, hollow bays fill the rest of the space, alcoves 
    outfitted for the cultivation and nurturing of homunculi. Above each a lustrously gleaming glyph 
    glows faintly blue, casting a chill to rival that of the mountains. Slender stairs lead to an upper 
    level, a fresh breeze filtering down and stealing away the scents both organic and chemical. A runic 

    You say in a muffled voice, "So, I've been working on this little thing for a while now."

    You say in a muffled voice, "I reckon the Giacinto wanted to get rich. He wanted to turn stuff, 
    animals, whatever he could get his hands on, into gold."

    Kalila tilts her head and listens intently to you.

    You say in a muffled voice, "The philosopher stone is supposed to be the pinnacle of alchemical 

    Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "So it is. Have you dabbled a bit."

    You say in a muffled voice, "Turning lesser metals into gold, through four steps. Nigredo, Albedo, 
    Citrinitas and Rubedo."

    You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

    You say in a muffled voice, "So, I was thinking."

    Kalila tilts her head and listens intently to you.

    You say in a muffled voice, "What if I work with metals, AND I work with humours."

    You say in a muffled voice, "I can alter the structure of the subject and turn it to gold."

    You say in a muffled voice, "So I ah."

    You say in a muffled voice, "Tested it on my scorpion."

    You say in a muffled voice, "Well, I'm going to."

    You say in a muffled voice, "I got this scorpion from hm, Khaibit I think? He was a faithful beast. 
    But, science."

    You have emoted: Torben gestures to the vat.

    You say in a muffled voice, "So I have a compound i've been boiling up, and with my homunculus ...
    lets see."

    You say in a muffled voice, "Ready?"

    The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.

    Kalila nods her head emphatically.

    Kalila beams broadly.

    You clap your hands together merrily.

    Kalila wags her tail.

    You say in a muffled voice, "It's okay!"

    You say in a muffled voice, "Lets see then!"

    Kalila beams broadly.

    You have emoted: Torben retrieves a phial being held over a flame from the low stone table, swirling 
    the contents before corking it quickly.

    You have emoted: Torben climbs to the lip of the vat, uncorking the phial and pouring in an unknown 
    liquid compound. The solution in the vat clouds and blackens.

    You put your hands on your hips and go "Hmmm!"

    You poke at a scarred scorpion urgently.

    You say in a muffled voice, "Alright, he's ready."

    You ponder the situation.

    You have emoted: Dropping down and standing in front of it, Torben glowers at the vat containing the 
    scarred scorpion before making slight gestures of his hand.

    You have emoted: Focusing entirely upon the scorpion, Torben's homunculus takes place next to him 
    and glowers at the scorpion, gesturing alongside its master.

    You have emoted: The scorpion suspended in the vat convulses as Torben continues to temper the 
    humours of the beast, first sanguine, then choleric, then phlegmatic.

    Kalila's ears perk up with a sudden interest.

    You have emoted: The colour of the vat changes colour to a murky white as Torben continues to focus 
    energies upon the scorpion.

    Kalila's ears perk up with a sudden interest.

    Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "Oh my!"

    You have emoted: Torben glowers at the vat containing the scarred scorpion before making slight 
    gestures of his hand.

    You have emoted: The colour of the vat changes colour to a sickly yellow as Torben continues to 
    focus energies upon the scorpion.

    Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "This is.. Ah. Aha."

    You have emoted: Torben frowns as the colour of the vat turns back to black again, this time a tone 
    much darker than the last.

    You say in a muffled voice, "I think ... I failed."

    Kalila creases her brow in a frown.

    You have emoted: Climbing to the lip of the vat hastily, Torben reaches in without hesitation to 
    pull out a blackened scorpion from the liquid and resting him upon the ground.

    You ponder the situation.

    Snapping his claws menacingly, a hulking graphite scorpion scuttles in, his legs a clatter over the 
    sibilant sound of desert sand.

    You say in a muffled voice, "Oh, look at that."

    You say in a muffled voice, "It's ... graphite. Eesh."

    You poke at a hulking graphite scorpion urgently.

    Kalila ponders a hulking graphite scorpion with a contemplative expression.

    You say in a muffled voice, "It ... didn't work."

    Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "I've only heard of .."

    You say in a muffled voice, "It turned ... like those animals on Ageiro."

    You say in a muffled voice, "Damn."

    Dark grey metal glistens across the moving figure of this hulking scorpion, its needle-thin legs 
    clicking as it skitters idly across the terrain. Eight solid black eyes swivel back and forth, 
    darting to and fro in assessment of its surroundings, the slightest disturbance causing it to snip 
    open and closed its imposing blackened claws. The blackening marks continue from the claws, covering 
    most of the beast's carapace in a random array of splotches. Dried blood covers the tail, the 
    hardened tip sharp and menacing as it stands poised and ready to strike.
    A hulking graphite scorpion is quite powerful.
    He has 100% health remaining.
    He weighs about 265 pounds.
    A collar of Lupus encircles his neck.
    A badge of returning has been attached to him.
    He is mountable as a legendary steed.
    He is loyal to Torben.
    A hulking graphite scorpion is holding:
    It will reset to you.

    Kalila kneels down in front of the large hulking graphite scorpion, before timidly reaching out a 
    single scaly digit, and lightly poking at it.

    You have emoted: Torben jots a note down on a scroll before stuffing it in his pack hastily.

    You say in a muffled voice, "Well, uh... yeah, Sorry Mentor! I failed in my experiment."

    You say in a muffled voice, "No golden scorpion for me."

    Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "This was fine work, protege. You's so young, me so young, 
    that'd you'd even.. Attempt something like this, so soon.. And you didn't manage to blow either of 
    us up.. Is more than impressive enough for me."

    You have emoted: Torben laughs softly.

    Kalila timidly presses her finger against the graphite of the bulk of the scorpion again, before 
    lightly extending a claw, and brushing it over the flaky metal.

    You say in a muffled voice, "I hope one day i'll become a proper alchemist and get it figured out."

    You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

    Kalila smiles softly.

    You say in a muffled voice, "For now, i'll have to settle with a ... graphite scorpion I guess."

    Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "Think it's safe to try to mount?"

    You ponder the situation.

    Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "I'd imagine.. One might be a tiny bit.. agitated after 
    such, um, an ordeal?"

    You have emoted: Torben gingerly approaches the scorpion, slowly raising one leg to swivel over it.

    Kalila gives the graphite scorpion a slightly worried glance.

    You have emoted: Torben takes a gulp of air as he lowers himself slowly onto the scorpion.

    You climb up on a hulking graphite scorpion.
    A hulking graphite scorpion lowers his body down to the ground and you to climb up onto his 
    chitinous back. You settle behind the first legs, with the creature's dangerous tail looming 

    You say in a muffled voice, "Woo! that wasn't too bad."

    Kalila beams broadly at you.

    You say in a muffled voice, "Well, he's still loyal to me!"

    Kalila says in a bright, youthful voice, "It looks like it!"

    Your face brightens into a broad grin.

    You laughingly say in a muffled voice, "Not quite a total loss then."

    I feel so bad about not interacting way more with this, I was really occupied with something in real life at the time, and it was so cool :(
  • FrederichFrederich Member Posts: 1,101 ✭✭✭✭✭ - Grand Achaean
    weren't ya'll supposed to not be preaching for 5 years.

    Either way, this looks good!
  • MelodieMelodie MhaldorMember Posts: 4,463 @@ - Legendary Achaean
    Frederich said:
    weren't ya'll supposed to not be preaching for 5 years.

    Either way, this looks good!
    That got dropped by the gods, dork. Keep up!
    "You have had an extraordinary adventure, my dear. Extraordinary! One that few people could ever imagine. Treasure it. Keep it safe and secure, tucked away in some special place in your heart. 

    But... don't spend the rest of your days chasing a ghost."
  • CooperCooper Member Posts: 3,910 @@ - Legendary Achaean
    Frederich said:
    weren't ya'll supposed to not be preaching for 5 years.

    Either way, this looks good!
    nope, pay attention

  • HataruHataru Member Posts: 222 ✭✭✭✭ - Eminent
    I was so looking forward to not having to do my job for like 5 IC years too :(

    Either way, great first sermon @Vika

  • KietKiet Member Posts: 1,783 @ - Epic Achaean
    Frederich said:
    weren't ya'll supposed to not be preaching for 5 years.

    Either way, this looks good!
    wait till you find out how many tanks we're keeping ;)
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