Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Innue
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Innue Sheep God

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Selim - Hunting in the Forest

Selim nodded politely in response to Axel. He had to almost not force a laugh when Axel asked where he was from, both because it was a complex question and it was often asked to avoid being racist. Selim's ethnicity was pretty clearly visible.

"Most recently I was from Gadot," he replied, gesturing to his skin in a joke that it was a changing feature, "I have mixed lineage though and I've spent a lot of time in Orin and Relin, which I have in my blood as well. As for the Rites, yes, that is what brought me to Toran. It felt like the right time to begin that journey." He specifically avoided going into too much detail about the timing of his Rites.

"I"m going to hazard a guess you are from Ward," Selim commented, deciding to stand up to stretch a bit. Orin drew a lot of tourists due to the 'culture' of the city, if one could call it that. Mostly Orin was a city to visit if you wanted to seem fancier than you were, or you wanted to flaunt wealthy, beauty, or some other kind of token that could be used to express your 'superiority'. Of course, that was the legacy of the city and not who it was now. However, news did not really spread fast and many of the tourists behaved as if Orin had not begun its clean up - thanks to Jantonna du Soleil.

Anastasia Radtfield - Toran Arena Challenge

There was little much to say about the Toran Arena, especially when there was no challenger within building. However, everyone knew about its Arena Master - Anastasia Radtfield. She was a Searsinging prodigy and from one of the wealthiest and influential families in all of Atren to boot. It seemed like a peculiar choice for someone from that background to be an Arena Master, but it was Anastasia's dream and she had her parents wound around her finger. They had spent the money, and time, to secure her the spot she wanted. And given the education that Anastasia had been given access too, she was quite a fearsome opponent. Of course, because of the goal of the Rites being to test a person's mettle and allow them a journey of progression, she used a specific spell to inhibit both her own powers as well as those of her summons. It meant that those just starting her Rites could defeat her, but in a life or death battle, she could potentially even give the Elite Triumvirate a run for their money

Selim - Old Man

Selim laid in bed staring at the ceiling, having been up most of the night. There had been a taste in the air that had left him ill at ease. It tasted of metal. It was the same taste Ilsver's air had following the rogue Clash of Irons. The ones that were held on 'historic' principles and done like they were before the reformation of the event.

Deciding that there was no point to try to get anymore sleep, Selim begrudgingly threw off his covers and readied for the day. Slinging his stuff onto his back, he exited the inn to try to find something to do with the day. Selim's lodging had been one of inns on the outskirts of the city, which had a maze of paths to take back towards the hustle and bustle of main part of Toran. With no direction in mind, Selim started back toward the city, however every time he seemed to turn away from the city center, the path seemed to end with dead ends or closed walkways. Eventually there was no choice and Selim found himself Toran's main square.

Selim uttered a curseword in response to the flood of Yata-Garasu. The birds were unnerving when there were just one. Supposedly they made good companions, but Selim theorized that the relationship with the animal changed when it was bound to you. This many of them in a cluster sounded like the precursor to the apocalypse. What Selim wasn't sure about was if all of the birds belonged to the very peculiar old man in the center, or if there was just some kind of natural draw to him from the birds. Either way, it was a reason to proceed with caution.

Selim approached him and just observed at a distance, waiting to see how this would play out.

Selim - Post Battle with Kiyo

Selim nodded in response to Kiyo, "Yes, you surmised correctly." Selim took note of her interaction with Song Lin Tiao. It was not common that someone interacted with her, especially given her role in the Elite Triumvirate. It spoke significantly of the connections of Kiyo's family. He did not doubt Kiyo's assessment either. Everyone knew of the power she possessed. The rare few that had Telepathy found that to be the extent of their psychic powers, but Song Lin Tiao was on another level. He had heard rumors she could moved objects mentally and project force fields as if she herself had access to the wild magicks of a Ohitsuji.

"I believe we have an agreement in principle then," Selim added, confirming his acknowledgement of their arrangement, "We can discuss additional details at a later time. I'd like to go get my shoulder examined if you don't mind." Despite his access to healing magic, Selim didn't always want to rely on that as a solution. It was powerful, but sometimes it was better to let things heal naturally and only guide the process. He suspected he was just a little bruised and it wasn't worth the exhausting of tapping into magic just to deal with something that minor.
Hidden 1 yr ago Post by The 42nd Gecko
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The 42nd Gecko

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Süne had found himself listless after a few weeks in Toran. The Arena Challenge had been trifling, like the Gym Leader hadn't truly been trying. Or had simply given him the win because the first challenge was supposed to be easy? He had sent forth his weakest natrelmon, with a weakness to fire, and had not been hit. He didn't feel strong, he felt like no challenge had been given.

He was also mildly unsettled by the single use magical tomes he had acquired. Who made these, and why? But it didn't seem to be anything malicious. So he went ahead and used them to learn the art of Seedsowing. He wasn't quite as sure about this shadowy one. Darkness wasn't necessarily evil, but ghosts were a bit spooky sometimes.

There was a gathering where special devices was handed out, presided by a very important person, it seemed. But those there hadn't seemed invested in group efforts. Most were too busy with their own affairs, and Süne didn't blame them. It was a seriously difficult affair keeping track of everything as a Natrelmon owner.

Whether by whatever eldritch spell was cast over the night, or his own troubles, Süne found his way to the strange old man of crows, and his offer of special magic. Riding his Frallion, as usual.

"Mmm, thank you for the offer, sir. But I don't think I need supremely powerful magic to fulfill my life's ambitions. These random tome things I keep finding whenever I go to the library to research Natrelmon habitats seem to be a nice enough start to keep me safe." Süne offered a slight incline of the head, before passing. He briefly considered trying to capture one of the Yata-Garasu, but figured that they might be the old man's, and that it might be considered rude.

Then he began to leave.

Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Raijinslayer
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Raijinslayer .

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Xander awoke the following morning feeling hardly any better than the night before, the raging heat in his blood drumming up a maddening beat of primal urges within him as he went about the daily ritual of getting ready for another day. As he rose from his hotel bed a quick glance over caused him to wince as he saw the mattress covered in a number of burns, cuts, and tears. Likely a night terror he had suffered afterthe previous night's . . . eventful conclusion with Unotori, though whatever it had been about, he could hardly begin to recall. All that came to mind as he tried was something about blood, teeth, and emotions he really didn't feel like unpacking right now, so he decided to just shove that back into his subconscious mind for now. He had a bit of a day planned out, so it's best if he got to it without any added distractions.

That, however, proved a lot harder than the Xanite initially thought it to be. It seemed like the enitre city had been affected by Unotori's influence, as Xander found himself nearly getting into several fist fights with passersby for merely bumping into them. And after that, found himself caught in th middle of no small number of spontaneous Natrelmon battles as the multitudes of trainer's that had come to Toran for their Rites seemed more than eager to get their aggression out on something or someone. It honestly took everty bit of control he had to not join in the chaotic ruckus himself, but everytime the thought rose up in his head. . . it was never just a desire to get aggression out that came to him. Always close behind was a much darker emotion, something on the verge of primality that beckoned him to commit more heinous deeds, each bystander or trainer accosting him was imagined as little more than a bleeding corpse on the street, their body savaged till it was barely recognizable from a peace of butcher's meat. The subtle hunger that also accompanied these imaginings gave more incentive for the young man to temper his anger as best he could, though he did given in slight to sock the occasional bastard that tried to hold him in place or otherwise grab onto him.

As he wandered the city in a vain attempt to possible reach the blacksmith for a . . . 'special project', Xander found himself grateful for his odd taste in fashion. The length of his cloak proved perfect for hiding the mark that Unotori had placed upon his arm, not wishing to possibly draw the attention of those with an interest in the rare creature that might recognizeit. Not only that, but he found the way the many tendrils that made up the tattoo not only seemed to pulse with an inner crimson light at times, but also twitch and writhe as if they were alive o be. . . unnerving, to say the least. At times, it felt as if he arm wasn't even his own anymore, but that of a devil that still held some level of control or power over the appendage. it was this unnerving feeling that had found Xander looking for the blacksmith, hoping to commision a piece gear to help in hiding it.

However, these plans were not to be, at least not yet it would seem. Like before with Unotori, Xander found himself drawn to a stange place by a strange force at work within his mind. Like before, he found it unconcerting and strange, but along with that was an indigantion and rage at whoever had dared called him all the way to this Gods forsaken dump. As he arrived, however, he found that the scenario looked a bit more interesting than he expected. To see an old man surrounded by such a rare and ominous natrelmon was sure to get anyone to at least this crazy old coot out, . . . or, well, almost anyone it seemed. Xander looked up at the young trainer making his way from the scene with a slight grin before walking right up to the old man, placing his left hand on his hip as he looked first at the yatagarasu that surrounded him, then the man himself.

"I'll have to agree with the squirt on the Frallion that my interest in getting gifted power is rather minimal. . . but at the very least, I'm willing to hear out what an interesting old cott like yourself has to say. So tell me, gramps, why are you calling a bunch of Trainers up to ya with that mystic ringtone of yours." At this point, Xander had leaned in a bit closer to the old man, his eyes narrowing as he continued with a slight growl to his words. "Because I must admit, I'm not liking having another mystic entity messing with my head to call me to parts unknown like this for god knows what. So explain yourself, kay?" He ended that with a smile that was more like he was baring his fangs at the old man before taking a slight step away to allow the mysterious figure some space. Part of him knew that he had little reason to get up in the old man's face like that, but even more of him wanted to sock this guy in the face for getting into his head like that.

At present tho, his curiosity over what the man wanted them all for wa overriding his more violent urges, so he waited to at least hear him out. If he didn't like it, the only thing he would've wasted is, hopefully, a bit of time. If the old coot tried to take anything else. . . well, Xander would be more than happy to have a target to channel his current frustrations and slow boiling anger into. A terrible thought, to be certain, but one that appealed to him all the same.

@Tuujaimaa@Innue@The 42nd Gecko
Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Eklispe
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Eklispe SSP

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Lance Tourmill

Lance headed back into the city having just finished an expedition outside for various purposes. It had gotten rather late and Lance for some reason found himself feeling un-nerved by something. The strange howling was a noise that was unfamiliar to Lance, something rather surprising considering he'd grown up in this city. Futhermore as Lance headed back into the city he found remarkable, un-natural, Nautrelomon at every corner. Yata-Garasus. Or at least, that's what he assumed they were, and his PDA confirmed this. Lance found it fascinating that they didn't even seem to mind being stared at. The combination of three legs and eyes, with blood rust plumage and that malicious peak combined to make a visage that only enhanced the disturbing sensation that had been present all night. Lance was far from the only one that noticed and far from the only trainer on the streets. It seemed people were getting into battles and fights left and right. Lance slipped into a side alley and made his way through the city without attracting much notice, as he was rather familiar with it.

For some reason he felt a nagging little pull and he followed it cautiously, not so sure it was a good idea considering the circumstances but too curious to say no. Lance found himself viewing a fountain, upon which an old man sat. More notably, there was a swarm of those Yata-Garasu around him, seemingly at his beck and call. He was babbling something about, ancient magic? Between the birds and the preaching Lance couldn't say he wasn't interested, and the same seemed true for others here. "Yo, Your staff is in your hands already, you don't need to keep looking for it." Lance said as he approached, not sure if the old man was playing him for a fool or really just not all there. "That magic sounds pretty interesting, also, are these Yata-Garasu up for capture or is that a no go?" Lance asked nonchalantly, pretty much ignoring the other, slightly more angry dude also talking to the geezer.
Hidden 12 mos ago Post by Tuujaimaa
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Tuujaimaa The G3tt3ner of G0TT3M3L3TT3S

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@Eklispe @The 42nd Gecko @Raijinslayer @Innue @Payldue

Kiyo, like the others, had been drawn towards the square by the strange pall of magic that had weaved itself over Toran. Though less outwardly aggressive than the other trainers, Kiyo had channeled the strange energy that she felt into the pursuit of knowledge. She had used her family's name in a manner akin to--but not quite--a battering ram to get into the Library in the dead of night when sleep would not come, and had spent the past six or so hours comparing the information within those tomes to the portable records of her family's library on her PDA. When she arrived in the square she looked positively haggard and thoroughly frazzled, but the main look on her face was still overwhelming dispassion rather than outright frustration or frenetic energy.

She stood by Selim, acknowledging his presence with a bow, as she continued to delve into a tome held open with her left hand. Mythrael lounged near her, seemingly unaffected by the various goings-on, though her and Kiyo were mentally dissecting much of their findings over the night. Her own natural telepathy, inquisitive magical nature, and mastery over a strange and esoteric magic had enabled her to bond very closely with her Mythrael even in the short period of time they'd known one another. They still had a way to go, but the species were generally of human or above level intelligence, and it was more like Kiyo had made a friend than captured a magical creature to serve her--the level of autonomy she offered the Mythrael even after a few days was considerably more than most were willing to.

Kiyo found herself remarkably curious as to precisely what the Old Man was offering. Magic had existed before the Four--anyone with access to the Archmages' library could tell you that--but anything beyond that was fuzzy. Many of the ancient accounts were... apocryphal at best, and Kiyo had never known which bits of it to take as gossip and exagguration and which bits of it were deeply rooted in truth. For that reason alone, she stepped forward past the swarm of Yata-Garasu and waited for more exposition.

The Strange Old Man seemed not to actually respond to any of the inquiries levied at him by the assorted crowd of trainers, instead repeating his spiel about being able to teach the trainers ancient magic. Once a sizeable enough crowd had gathered, however, the Yata-Garasu seemed to flock in a circle around the old man. The birds were clearly preventing anybody from leaving, offering hisses and squawks at anyone who attempted--such as Süne. If he did not get the picture and stay comfortably within the circle, they would very clearly not hesitate to attack him and it seemed unlikely that he would survive the barrage that the incredibly powerful creatures could bombard him with.

"The Four have lied to you! The Magic of eld still exists, unaffected by the imposition of the Void, and I can teach you... I will teach you, Akasha be damned! If you wish to learn... you need only stay close to me. If you do not desire the power to unlock your magical potential, then I will not force you to stay... but an ill omen will fall upon you! Those who refuse true power shall be consumed by those brave enough to take it!"

The Old Man seemed to have hit a patch of lucidity, contrasting his earlier babbling and madness, and was drawing a small symbol onto the ground with his staff, and those learned in the finer points of the magical arts would be able to tell that he was drawing upon a kind of magic they had never experienced. It was wild and chaotic, rushing through them and into the ground below them. After only a second or so, a streak of crimson and violent energy leaped up from the ground with a blinding flash, and suddenly the entire square seemed to have been engulfed by a dome of earth. The Old Man continued to mutter and perform odd movements with his staff, and the Yata-Garasu began to caw out a cacophonous shriek in unison with the Old Man's actions. Very soon the vibration within the dome was a tangible, physical thing that was gripping their skulls with a rising pressure until there was a 'pop' and all of a sudden it was all gone, as were all except three of the Yata-Garasu, who remained perched on the Old Man's staff.

The earthen dome crumbled away, and each of the trainers found themselves in a clearing in a forest. It still seemed to be Toran, from the ambient temperature and weather conditions, but the lot of them had just been transported in a way that seemed to not be possible by any known metric of magic. This would, at least, confirm that the Old Man's claims of knowing ancient and powerful magic were certainly not false.

"Those who wish to learn, follow me into the cave." The Old Man stated, gesturing with his staff towards a yawning portal of stone on the northern edge of the clearing.

"The others... You may wait here until the choice has been made. Then you will be allowed to leave."

And with that, he began to walk into the cave, waiting for the other trainers to make their choices.
Hidden 12 mos ago Post by Eklispe
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Eklispe SSP

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Lance Tourmill

Guess they weren't up for capture then. The Old Man seemed to completely ignore everyone here, though the birds that had been before hanging docilely around were now flying around a frenzied cyclone. Lance eyed them warily, he wasn't sure his odds would be too good if they actually decided to attack considering how many of them there were. Lance looked back at the Old Man to see him sketching something. That 'something' released a flash of light that made Lance cover his eyes, along with a increasing force like he was flying upwards. A moment later the sensation vanished, and as Lance opened his eyes, he realized his old surroundings had as well. This was either some sort of illusion or teleportation magic, either of which were beyond Lance's scope of understanding, but well within his scope of interest. The decision before him seemed simple enough. He had no interest in waiting around and he had an avid interest in learning just what this Old Man was selling. So Lance simply began following him into the cave.
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