The Promise, Part One

The barren wastelands of Daravin, ruled by mad raiders and bandit Kings.

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Haldir
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Location: Lorien
Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?f=43&t=774
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Wed Dec 09, 2020 5:38 am

☠ 22nd of Frost, Year 120, Final Solstice ☠
Company: Taelian, Julian, Furret, Feminine male| Thoughts: Let us be off then | Mood: Determined

☠ With everything as it is, there was truly nothing left to say at that point. The best we could do is move on and attempt to pacify an enraged god, though even I was still having my doubts. Looking to Taelian I couldn't help but wonder what exactly was going through his head when he came up with this plan.

Looking at the group I couldn't help but feel as though as ragtag as we were, that someway somehow we could pull this off. I was willing to give everything I had to see this through, not only for Taelian but for myself and my father. I'm certain it was something he would have jumped at the chance to be apart of for sure.

In any case, I had nothing else to say, and once we made it to the vessel I quietly border the marvel of a boat and found a corner. I found myself going over the contents of the first diary of my mother, scanning over the pages and their details intently. I knew that there were many I could learn from these, her thoughts and emotions, and the kind of life they lived before their deaths.

The pages were detailed, written with impeccable penmanship, as I was running my fingers along the writing of the pages. My mother's writing was calm yet I could feel it held so much vibrancy and life within it. The energy from how she wrote, as if talking to an old friend in person was calming, and oddly I felt as if I could hear the conversation as if it was spoken directly to me.

Her thought process was far beyond her time, and she knew it, and it was something that I could relate to, as I too felt like the odd man out within my own community, given how I reasoned things. ☠

"Common Tongue"
"Silvain Tongue"
"Self-Thoughts"
Last edited by Haldir on Mon Dec 14, 2020 8:17 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 386
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Khaori
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Character Sheet: https://www.atharen.com/viewtopic.php?f=43&t=557

Wed Dec 09, 2020 10:27 am

The Promise, Part One
22nd of Frost, Year 120

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Intricate lines appear on the man’s body as he begins to glow and shoot a sort of light from himself like the sun. To the fae, he was neither human nor Sil’Norai. Just a draedan. And as impressive as that may sound, Khaori felt no need to bend the knee to even someone of his status. If his mother were to hear what he was thinking, she’d probably give him a good pinch. It didn’t matter though and it wouldn’t change his mind--Khaori did not care for the gods or even the elven ones for that matter. He would never be as crazy as today to approach one and ask them to help aid him in a fight on his own. He knew their power was real. However, he could never see himself worshipping the deities the way others do. Khaori believed in the power of one’s self; one can only do as much as they allow themselves to do. He believed in intelligence, something even many gods lack. The deities are nothing more than mortals with longer life expectancies to him.

He pretended not to notice the stare of the man. Khaori admitted that he was slightly fearful, but damn it if he wasn’t going to die one way or the other. Might as well speak your mind while marching to your death.

Khaori might have been the only one to see through this man’s ruse too. Looking at those around him, he would not be wrong to think of them as nothing more than the common folk. Only those in desperate need of money or to prove something would follow this man into despair. They were definitely in the same position as himself. No man with some sort of brain would do such a thing without questioning it. Khaori decided to take it upon himself to question every part of this mission for these poor people; this will be his one good deed. So far, the draedan’s trick made sense, but that didn’t mean he believed it all. It was just something that sounded fairly executed.

Laughter escaped his lips as the man mentioned being a draedan as if that made him any fitter for the position he was in. Did he not read a history book?

“Is that supposed to make us feel better? There are greater fools in the past that were more draedan than human. It’s not the power you hold, but how you use it, sir. You’re not impressing me yet. They’ll always be impressed...I can tell. But for me? No way.” Khaori answered in eldhan. He purposely ignored the rest of what the man had previously said. Sure, it was a good plan. But being a draedan shouldn’t be the one good reason for everything on this trip.

He pushed himself ahead of the man to access the ship first, stomping his way there.”I hope you know that I’m not following through with this because I think you’re a great leader.” Khaori answered after the draedan’s last question.”A great leader doesn’t promise their crewmates death, but their own for victory.” He turned around to face the man, crossing his arms and looking up. Khaori did not want to meet his gaze. It would’ve made it harder for him to say what he had to say in eldhan.
“But at the same time, I also like that you expect us to pay the price with our life. That only means that you must have something greater to give us in return. I don’t know about your other men, but my life is worth everything you have to offer; enough to break your bank. So I expect you to pay up if I survive this monstrosity.”


"Kill Them. Kill Them All"
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Nuraku
Posts: 139
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Wed Dec 09, 2020 10:12 pm





From atop Latham's shoulder, Nuraku peered down upon the group with haughty suspicion. To her, none save Haldir looked to be worth their salt in a scuffle upon the seas. Little black and beady eyes narrowed. "I have heard few tales of the gods where they were the patient, conniving sort willing or wise enough to listen to the reason of a mortal. I pray that you are correct, for I am sure we do not have the firepower to convince Lotheric of our intentions otherwise."

Nuraku looked to Julian. "Provided the Vethcairn do not sink our ship, first. Much falls upon your shoulders, Julian," she said in response to Latham's speech. Listening to the captain begin to speak in another language she was familiar with, but not privy to, Nuraku wondered why she had never learned Silvain.
I was too naive, then, to understand the importance of other tongues than my own. Even Common was a struggle.

And then, the Fae man from before approached, speaking of Taelian's madness -- first in Common -- and then, spouting in Eldhan. He could recognize the language, and could even understand much of it; it was the sister-language to Silvain, after all, its old progenitor. Many of the words coexisted, only with small divergences that kept them apart. She only understood the most common words--those of the Elven Gods, and of the Sil'norai themselves.

Then, Latham began to glow. Nuraku's little paws tensed upon his shoulders, watching those bands of light. "What Rune is this?" she muttered, for Latham had not shared with the group what he was in the common tongue.

Then, the Fae'norai laughed. His haughty, arrogant words raked across her ears, but she learned much from them. "A--A Draedan?" Nuraku said with a worried gasp. Her body clung low to him, fur standing on end. It was hard to hide her fear, but she collected herself just as quickly, sighing away the tension and the panic. What was she afraid for? Latham had meant her no harm, and had clearly been a member of the Remedy in his past life. "I do not know what the son of a god is to Lotheric, but I pray it is enough." She watched Khaori storming off, as if to lend credence to her next words, uttered in a. "We should be careful to council that one, so that they do not provoke Lotheric with their arrogance."

What Latham explained about the Remedy being on its back foot made sense to her. For all their clout and flame, the Huntsmen were a force that required entire legions of Ebon Knights and their Clerics to dispatch. What's more, Sil-Elaine could grow its numbers so much easier. Curses could be thrown about without the need for nurture. The recruitment and training of a Knight was a long and arduous process, often ending in tragedy long before earning that special armor and enough Pyromancy to wreak havoc upon the enemy lines. "I am starting to see what you see, Latham. We may have just enough too convince them, but it is still a small chance to me--if it means we can turn the tide of this bloody war, then you have my loyalty at your disposal. I only pray that you can get through to him if he is consumed by madness."

The man turned, and beckoned for everyone to follow him as he moved through the rusted corridors of the outpost, through strange hallways of metal and broken old wires; the lost technologies of old, ones that made little sense to them now. After only a few minutes journey through the considerably warm corridors, they would find their way to the harbor, largely covered by a metal roofing that stretched out across the thin gap of river, one of many from the Amoras' length. It effectively encapsulated the dockyard within a metal dome, only allowing an operable gate through which the ships could move through if it was allowed to open. It protected the water and the ships from Daravin's corrupted dust storms, though in its effect, it offered them a strange and majestic view of old technological marvel.

As they moved through the docks, Nuraku peered at all of the old technologies, eyes following the strands of cable and rusted devices. There was a time when such things interested her, but she could not find apprenticeship in Etherforging nor Artifice, for she was just an orphan with a harsh tongue and a penchant for lashing out in a land where Kinship was everything. "Maybe one day I will retire and study these marvels with the Gnomes. I'm certainly small enough to fit in their workshops, now."

The corruption was Nuraku's main concern. Her mind was already wondering at how she could escape should the ship fall. Flying looked to be her best option, if the water really was tainted, but even then, she could not fly in a storm, nor could she fly for long before tiring. The form of a fish would have helped, but there wasn't the time. At least the ship would shield them, for the most part. If anything went wrong, she was doomed.

"Ermine," Nuraku corrected. She was fine with being called a weasel or a ferret, but a rat had certain connotations she wished to avoid. "I can also fly, and my Caru can do the same to their ships," she said. "In addition to my Summoning and Animus, I am a Pyromancer and a novice Transpositionist. A window into the water should help us see what lurks in the depths, if nothing else. I also have the ability to make illusions, but they are draining and flawed--small ones are preferred, from trinkets to maybe the shadow of a second ship in the fog at most to make us seem more threatening or confuse a barrage. My Shrivenflame and Caru are my most dangerous weapons." It seemed prudent to share what she could do, for strategy.

Nuraku nodded, feeding the hot knife to her teeth and climbing down Latham's shoulder and scampering off towards the ship. Racing up the plank, she scrambled up onto the railing and hippety-hopped towards the bow, where she perched halfway up the long and narrow point.
I should test this...

Tapping into her rune, Alphonse identified a point beneath the still, murky waters, as deep as her conscious would allow. With an arduous, careful strain, she made her nodes beneath the water. It wasn't exact, but then she didn't need to be for this. Next, she placed another set of nodes in front of her, subsequently working to form a stream of energy between them and setting up her anchors. Nuraku focused on swiftly collapsing the stream of energy within her mind. It was getting easier, but she still felt the stress upon her mind and body as she punctured a hole in space, forming a Window into the inky, dark depths.

As they were within a dreary dome structure, there wasn't enough light to penetrate the depths. Instead, she held her hot knife to the surface of the portal, allowing her to shed light upon the gross, muddy depths. "It won't be so useful at night," she muttered. During the day at sea, this would prove useful. She could only hold the strain for so long before she let the portal collapse with a shudder, the gate blipping out of existence.

Turning tail, Nuraku hopped down and scrambled to join the rest of the crew in their departure preparations.


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Julian
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Mon Dec 14, 2020 12:44 am

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Frost 25

The leader's mention of his usefulness helped to quell his uncertainty of the journey that he'd agreed to, but was soon punctuated with a tightening feeling of anxiety spreading throughout his chest. He was going to come face to face with his mother's people; even worse, he would be playing for the other side. He knew of the importance of Vethcairn loyalty- he wasn't quite sure if they would take kindly to the explanation of his lack of a clan, or even worse, his grandfather's escape.

The furry creature on the man's shoulder piped in and reminded him of his crushing responsibility. Julian's shoulders tightened, scoffing back at her.

"You think I'm not already aware of that? I've been spared no knowledge of Vethcairn atrocities, cleric." There was a tinge of venom to his tone, only lingering for a moment, but his voice was still low out of respect. He knew that the creature probably didn't deserve his harshness, but the comment came off as a remark on his ineptitude. With his first big journey ahead of him, he didn't need to be reminded of how unbelievably challenging it would be.

It only worsened when the young man from before pushed him aside as if he were a bag of meat, touting arrogance and complete disregard for the leader's capabilities. There was some back and forth from the brat and the leader of the group, who identified himself as a Draedan as an attempt to quell his doubts. Julian stayed silent throughout the uncomfortable confrontation, but wrote off the Fae'Norai as annoyingly arrogant in his head. The young half-drusk was willing to put his trust in the hands of the Draedan, if anything, to make himself feel less naive.

"He's going to punch a hole in the deck with those goddamn feet of his." Julian spoke under his breath in Valgoth as he watched the man stomp onto the ship in a childish frenzy. With a sigh, he followed behind Cyrus, crutch and heavy bag in hand. It was going to be one hell of a journey. He- like the rest of them- just hoped that he wouldn't be killed.



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Tyranny
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Wed Oct 27, 2021 6:54 pm

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Hello all,

Everyone in this thread will be receiving 10 XP. No lores. This may not be used for magic. I apologize for the delay.

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