[center][h3]P r i c i a[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]

The chest itself was larger than most of its kind; many of which were used to contain the treasures of monasteries and castles and fortresses alike. But this, this was different, and Pricia would have been able to sense the anomaly in its presence. A devoted servant of Goethia was not to be denied aid, even long past the death of her celestial queen. 
Running her fingers along the edge of the sealed, old oaken box would reveal to Pricia the great craftsmanship involved in creating such an object. Each carved figure was smoothed and sanded to an almost unnatural shine for a material as old as it was. Even the lock seemed to be complex and intricate, so much so that it was doubtful that even a master thief would have been able to decipher the complex mechanism within. 
Despite the apparent complexity, the lock popped apart as Pricia leaned in to lift the heavy lid, as if by magic. 
The inside of the chest was less exquisite than that of the exterior, instead of masterful carvings and inscriptions in a long lost tongue, it was simple wooden planks, row upon row. Nobody would marvel upon the inside of a chest when treasures would fill it. 

In the bottom of the rather deep container were two things neatly placed side by side: an old sheet of parchment with inked scribbles almost entirely across its surface, and a dark, polished wooden stave with a complex arrangement of golden rings upon its head… The Staff of Nature’s Breath; something undoubtedly familiar to the young warrior legend. 

The parchment was curious, and it spoke of the tale of a man not known by legend, but now lost to the world:

[i]My name is Khavo the Grey, and I am a priest of Goethia, long standing servant of Her verdancy, follower and preacher of Her teachings, and keeper of Her monastery. I have spent my life dedicated to honouring the Queen of the Wilds; I was raised to be a man of the Gods, and it was she that showed me my path where others would not. Two decades I had spent spreading the word of my Queen’s eternal and bountiful kindness, and five decades have I spent in search of this artifact, carried by Goethia’s chosen herself; a holy weapon by any standard; touched by Pricia, the Beast of the Forest. I have been honoured to be a part of Goethia’s grand plan, and regret not my sacrifices in the interests of finding the staff: I have given much to procure it once more for Goethia; much worldly coin have I spent, and raise a family have I not. But the fire now grows dim, and darkness collects around me. My time upon Ansus is at an end, and I must give myself to the Merkstave before madness consumes me; before the whispering beyond the wall comes for me. This is my last account, the summation of my life. I pray that this staff at least remains in its rightful place for all time to come, for the world grows dark and cold, and my time is at an end. In honour of Goethia, I commend myself to her embrace. I hope that I have made her proud.[/i]

[hider=Quest Notes for Invisible] Looks like you found a very shiny toy! What fun you will have! And you even gave Khavo the Grey a proper burial because you are apparently lovely. But heed the warnings of his final account, you must decide whether it is safe to stay in such a place as this. Will you push further into the depths of the monastery, or will you make a hasty exit? In the case of the former, you may designate whatever room is beyond the thin pathways and I will adapt. In the case of the latter, you would then be free to make your way in any direction. Perhaps the nearby city of Losis will be able to provide you with some answers as to why you have been returned to this world? 

As usual, feel free to take full control of any NPCs you encounter / create in whichever path you take. Again, in the case of the latter feel free to improvise the city if you come close.[/hider] 


[center][h3]K i ’ i r a[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]

The apparent captain of the group of King’s Rangers was resolute in his goal to divulge as little info as possible to the fox-eared woman. When she asked where they were going, he simply replied [color=DarkGray]”The Capital,”[/color] and when she had asked if it was far, he did not even answer, rather giving a simple gesture of the hand that maybe meant it was a moderate distance from where they had found her. He even broke her a piece of bread and allowed her a pigskin of water upon her insistence on food and drink. But when she asked about the Gods… he did not say a word. He refused to even acknowledge the question. Perhaps such a response could have been interpreted to mean something far more sinister than the captain had intended. 

The group marched Ki’ira for what must have felt like days upon days, through rain and shine, bitter winds, and mushy dirt underfoot. They crossed through puzzled forests that lacked any notion of a trail, and through rough, muddy waters. They passed outcrops of rocks and navigated through caves that were as dark as the deepest of nights. And all around, the world could be seen faltering like flames. The trees seemed to be lacking, canopies less full than they had once been. Trunks were withered and blacking against all logic, and the sunlight was chill at best; not bringing the warmth that it promised.  

Before long, the Capital loomed on the horizon. The grand city of Kolantis sprawled in all directions almost as far as the eyes could see; nestled between the great Kolantic Mountains and the Sea of Khosis. The city spread from the seat of power carved into the mountain ridges all the way to the coastline, where a bustling port existed. Ships and boats of all shapes and sizes had been moored at the docks, and great lights kept all parts of the city illuminated through the night. Daylight had faded by the time the party had travelled down the long road toward the main gate: one of the few entrances through the thick mountain-stone walls. The gate guards, upon seeing the insignia of the King upon the rangers, immediately stood at ease and let the group pass into the confines of the city. 

It was impressive by the standards of any other city in Ansus, despite the slightly squalorous conditions of the city limits: the rangers guided Ki’ira through the slums, past the open sewers and intimidating stares of embittered residents. Many peasants stopped in their tracks to stare down the rangers and the strange, fox-eared woman they held captive, though none made any attempt at instigating violence as they often did when presented with soldiers or nobles passing through their turf. 
They had hurriedly left the city limits, and came unto the city proper within the hour; the buildings were clean and well constructed of stone and wood, and a dizzying array of alleyways crossed almost nonsensically through streets and roads which bustled with the clamour of daily life. Despite the night falling upon them, the city was lively and active. Merchants still hustled and struggled to sell wares from the markets, and hard-working men and women carried crates of supplies and food across the streets, dodging nobles riding on horseback and guards who perhaps relied a little too much on their authority. It would have been a marvellous sight for anybody of times past, for the city had only become the metropolis it was currently in the last few centuries. 

Onward they pressed, deeper into the heart of the city. The captain pointed out to Ki’ira a particularly large building, one that dominated all others around, dwarfing them in its shadow. That was their destination; though the captain would not tell her the nature of the building. 
As they approached, the city fell noticeably more silent than it had been in other areas. Here was much less of a bustling crowd, instead the clear, polished plaza was home only to nobles sauntering along, quietly conversing with one another in their trademarked, smug fashion. Approaching the columns of the gargantuan structure, the captain led Ki’ira inside. 

Within was just as one would have expected: large, empty, echoing. Tiled floors polished and gleaming, columns lining the walls; supporting an elaborately crafted roof decorated with paintings from famous artists from years past. In the centre of the hall stood two knights, decorated even more elaborately than the rangers were. Gilded golden suits of steel plate covered them from head to toe, and beautiful forged steel blades dangled at their sides. 

[color=Darkgray]“My Lords,”[/color] exclaimed the ranger captain as they approached the Knights. [color=Darkgray]“We have brought you the fugitive,”[/color]

The captain unclipped Ki’ira’s shackles and shoved her forward slightly, whilst stepping back himself as to put distance between himself, Ki’ira, and the Knights. 

One of the Knights looked her up and down, and then looked her in the eyes through his heavy, full-covering helm. 

[color=Darkgray]“What is your name?”[/color] he demanded. 

[hider=Quest Note for rivaan]Woah-ho-ho this is going to be interesting. What will you do? Comply or attempt an escape? Fight, or talk your way out of it? The Rangers are of course at your control for the sake of your next post, and the Knights are to a degree, but remember that they are incredibly stout individuals and will stick to their directive like glue. They will throw you into the dungeon if given the chance, but only temporarily while higher up individuals decide what to do with Ki’ira. If you were to make an escape attempt now, you could conceivably disappear into the sprawling city, which of course would be created as you go; improvise! [/hider] 


[center][h3]E l l a r i a n[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]

Once he had made his way back into the safety of the fortress, and away from the bloodied walls, Ellarian was greeted by more than resounding cheers from the garrison of the fortress. Hearty hugs were exchanged between the soldiers, and grateful nods and thankful handshakes were given to the hero of the hour for his display of incredible valour in the field of battle. Without his guidance, the fortress surely would have fallen; but his tactical mind had won the day. The host of sub-men had been so badly stricken by the hellstone powder that they fully retreated into the wild lands beyond, leaving naught but bodies of their fallen and run down camps behind. 

The captain approached Ellarian some minutes following his return from the walls, still in absolute astonishment at the ease with which the sub-men champion had been slain and made an example of. It was clear now to the captain why this mountain of a man that stood before him was so revered for so many years. 

[color=Darkgray]“Ellarian,”[/color] he said softly, not wanting to call the attention of all the soldiers who now looked up to him. [color=Darkgray]“We must talk.”[/color]
With that, the captain led Ellarian through the passages of the fortress to the war-room, where the celebrations of the men could barely be heard. There was enough quiet there that the two could discuss matters in relative privacy, and without risking others overhearing them. 

[color=Darkgray]“When you awakened, it was decided that… That word of your return be sent to the Capital. A messenger bird was dispatched to Kolantis informing them of your appearance. At first we thought that it would be seen as, well, little more than a hoax, but one of the work details just informed me that we have had a response,”[/color]

The captain didn’t say anything for a moment, letting the fact sink in for Ellarian. 

[color=Darkgray]“The King humbly requests your presence at the Royal Palace in Kolantis. I think he wishes to speak with you personally.”[/color]

[hider=Quest Note for harbinger]ROYAL INVITATION! Consider that a win. You can decide whether or not to accept the invitation; though accepting it will give you access to an escort of soldiers (not that you would need it!) on the long road South to the Capital of Kolantis. It is a pretty long way, though, and journeying through the land would probably take time. It would be reasonable to assume that you could make it half way in one of your posts (at which point I would dump another event on you). However, you are under no obligation to actually go and see the King, and you could go somewhere of your own accord, or even stay at the fortress and try to learn more about what is going on. As always, NPCs are under your control, and you can designate any events or goings on in your post. [/hider]


[center][h3]N o r c o  K h a n[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]

Norco Khan’s voice echoes through the valley for a moment, like the sound of thunder bouncing between mountains. But once it had subsided into the snow, silence reigned once more as his kin bore their weapons, slowly and cautiously moving into the shadow…

[color=DarkGray]”Yes!” [/color] interjected the ‘Chief’, [color=DarkGray]”We will have your head!” [/color] he said, mimicking Norco’s inflection almost perfectly. It was as though he were trying to be like him… 

The rest of the group looked back at him with some semblance of frustration, clearly growing agitated of his ruthless compensation for the presence of the Wolf King, before turning back to crawl into the shadow of the cave. 

There was an unusually high pitched screech, and from the cave a beast lashed forward. With a snout encrusted with what seemed to be crystals of ice, and thick, cold vapour spewing from nostrils, a dragon attempted to bite one of the men in half. The sudden attack was met with each man jumping backwards as fast as possible, before looking to each other in confusion once the fearsome jaw had retreated back into the darkness. 

[color=DarkGray]“It- it’s so small,”[/color] said the youngest among them. 

[color=DarkGray]”No… No,”[/color] started one of the elder hunters. [color=DarkGray]”Hatchlings! [b]Hatchlings![/b]”[/color] he screamed, inciting each man to immediately disperse and seek cover, as another high pitched screech was met with the deafening roar of a much deeper one, and a shadow carried on a gust of freezing wind swept overhead. 

The mother dragon, upon hearing the distress call of its young, swooped from high above the clouds. The beast was enormous, at least a hundred feet long, and bearing massive wings that served to blot the cold sun from overhead. It appeared far more fearsome than the hatchling, and was far more adept at killing. It immediately landed with a sizeable thud, directly atop the youngest hunter, who, following a scream of agony as his entire chest was shattered under the weight, was ripped apart with a single strike from the powerful jaws of the dragon. 

The rest of the hunters roared and wailed, not understanding why one so young must be lost so suddenly, before a misty cone of frostfire was unleashed upon another two hunters who had tried to seek asylum behind a particularly large rock some distance away. Their cover served them no purpose, however, and both men’s blood turned to ice in their veins. Their skin drained into a ghostly blue hue, and they died before they could even exclaim about the unimaginable pain they had surely felt in those moments of death. 

The dragon let loose mighty battlecry to the sky, before turning its attention to the Wolf King, who stood undeterred, in the face of such a fearsome foe… 

[hider=Quest Note for Blackbeard]You don’t even need quest notes here. Kill that thing, and kill it hard! It is under your control, as are the remaining hunters. Upon a victory, the hatchlings will likely scatter, and the cave can be entered unassailed. Within, you will find the Dragon’s treasure, with your weapon amongst the loot.[/hider]

[center][h3]A l t i m[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]

The boy’s father’s eyes opened wider than they had ever done so before, as this strange, wise man had turned and burned a symbol into the ground with little more than a thought. That kind of power… did not come around often, if at all, and was reserved for tales and myths of legendary heroes past. And he had said that Faerthus had blessed him…? Such a collection of facts sounded familiar to the man. 
A bard. Wise and noble. Magical. Blessed of Faerthus…? 

[color=DarkGray]”Oh my- oh. Oh shit,”[/color] he exclaimed as his brain finally made sense of what he was seeing. [color=DarkGray]”Al- Altim..?” [/color] he asked, though Altim was too far now for him to hear; so the man just stood there in shock, staring along the path, shaking slightly with astonishment. 

Deep down, he knew Altim was right. And given the knowledge of the man’s true identity, he knew he could not go against his advice and continue with his plan. He quickly gathered up his soon-to-be accomplices and explained to them what had happened, and explained to them why they could not go through with such a scheme. They were unconvinced, but deterred. 

But through the ruckus and the confusion, Daither, the man’s child, had once more slipped from the confines of his home. This time, however, he ran not in fear, but in pursuit of a man who had influenced him so. Silently, he bolted along the beaten pathway, the same direction in which Altim had gone. 

[hr]

A few hours were all that were needed for Altim to reach the Bastion by foot, for he was not far, and it could be seen for miles upon miles, all around. As he drew closer, the bastion seemed to grow taller, stretching into the sky like a great stone finger scratching the clouds. The years did not seem to belittle the bastion as they did with other buildings in Ansus; it was just as beautiful as any could remember. It was most exquisite and beautiful, a true gift from Humans to Gods. A work so grand that nothing of its ilk would be built again in Ansus for over sixty thousand years. But despite outward appearances, the bastion was not entirely as it was in past millennia, for the Great Fire in the highest chamber was now dark, and failed to radiate its famous glow across the Heartlands. 

As Altim would approach the clearing, the God Guards who stood eternal watch over the bastion brought themselves to arms, readying themselves in case of an assailant. 

[color=DarkGray]”Traveller!” [/color] one cried, making his voice heard from the distance. The two guards began to move closer to Altim, cautiously, but at pace. [color=DarkGray]”What is your purpose here?” [/color]

[hider=Quest Note for ravenDivinity]Time to convince a guard or two to let you in to the archives! Naturally, full NPC control is yours! And remember that Daither has made the decision to try to follow you because he was so inspired by your encounter. You can have him come in during your next post or not if you so choose; he will be around at some point, either way. 
If you convince the guards to let you in (or find another way inside), the relic archive can be found on the same level as the Great Fire, which can be reached by a huge, winding staircase. The violin can be found inside. [/hider]