Brovo

Legend of Renalta 2: Reborn

@Gat:


@Rayne Night: Alrighty, here we go. Because your biographies are so long, don't be surprised when I note a few (or a lot, depending on perspective) of changes that need to be made.

Donovhan, Mage Hunter

Biography

*Note: Some of these things are points you likely might not be able to know unless someone told you, so don't feel like I'm beating up on you or berating you. These are points I've often told others as well, usually through an instant messenger. Also, major points need addressing. Minor points can be brushed over.

Major
#1: Elite mage hunters in the Templar Order... The Templar Order are already elite anti-mages. No need to reinvent the wheel.
#2: The civil war has only been going on for ten years, and it's a major part of the history of Rheinfeld. Not mentioning it at some point is surprising.
#3: So your character uses their spirit to defend themselves from magic? That's not how anti-magic works. Anti-magic is created through magic.
#4: Donovhan is trained exclusively in methods of anti-magic. Encounters a situation that involves unholy magic, and he... Gets... Completely wasted? Why? Did his anti-magic suddenly fail him? If not, then why is he still alive, but Oleg is dead? Is it because the demon killed Oleg? Why didn't the demon kill Donovhan then?
#5: So your character's dad was a crusader? Or was he a soldier? Or was he a militia man? Did he become militia after serving as a crusader? Why is there like, a 63 year old man in the militia? Crusaders can retire now?
#6: He's banished and given no reasons whatsoever. He seems alright with this. Also his dad and best bud Oleg are dead. He also seems alright with this. No resistance, no questions, just... Leaves.
#7: The elite mage hunter subgroup within the Templar Order would not have the authority to banish people from the entire kingdom, leave alone from the Templar Order. If they seriously did this, they would be disbanded immediately, as it threatens the ultimate authority of the Templar.
Minor
#8:Somehow cultists build a giant underground facility beneath a house in a town without anyone noticing at any point.
#9: Somehow Donovhan is the only one to survive the incident despite being at ground zero.
#10: For some reason the demon did not kill Donovhan, but it killed Oleg, his best friend, who was standing right beside him. Presumable.
#11: Somehow his mother retrieves him and heals him from that nightmare.
#12: Who sent him the parchment? Why would he receive a parchment? Also, Renalta has two Queens.
#13: His motivation is to rejoin the order that threw him out without rhyme or reason and who for all tense and purposes have been horrible punishing towards him for no more reason than that he has corruption. Instead of helping him figure out what's going on, they're just literally abandoning him... Why is his motivation to join the Queen's Blades, a force that fights demons, to be ultimately to rejoin a group of people who have shown disdain and hatred towards him for reasons out of his control and who don't care at all to help him save himself?

Uniques

I like the way you formatted your uniques, it made it very easy on the eyes.

Note: Your character will start at second level, to keep on par with the others. This means upgrading one standard trait and adding one standard trait, as well as upgrading one custom trait and adding one custom trait. Keep this in mind as I'm reviewing your character's level one starting bonuses, and you could retain some of it with a level up.

The concept of a bloodling is acceptable, however, keep in mind that the more powers and abilities you stack in a single unique, the less overall effectiveness that unique is going to have. (Think of it this way. 1 Ability unique = 1.0 efficiency. 2 abilities unique = 0.6 efficiency to each ability. 3 abilities unique = 0.4 efficiency to each. So on and so forth. That's not the exact way the math is done, but it's simplified to give you an idea of what you're working with.)

+ Basic control of his own heartbeat, lessen bleeding and infection chances <- Acceptable.
+ Basic detection of Holy and Demonic entities <- Stick to demonic only.
+ Able to hear heartbeats within 3 - 4 meters <- Interesting, and I just wanted to point out that it's an unorthodox way of detecting last second assassins.
_________+ Can differentiate someone who is alive, dead or undead <- Remove this. Those that have the power to hide their undead-ness are likely out of your league to detect anyway, and I don't think you need a power to tell if someone is dead...
_________+ Can differentiate humanoids from other creatures <- Same thing as the "I don't think you need this as a power to be able to do it", remove it.
_________+ Combined with Sharp, can find a creature’s heart after some time of concentration <- Acceptable addition to make a more specific variation to sharp, since you have the sharp skill as a prerequisite.
_________- Large, tight crowds confuse his senses and render him nearly sick. <- Remove this, it's unnecessary as a weakness.
- Light aura of demonic presence (Can be sensed by holy beings and those who can detect mages) <- Optional for you to leave it in. It was going to happen either way due to the demonic corruption.
- Slight discomfort in holy places and near holy objects, discomfort near holy beings <- Same as above.

Mage Hunter might be a bit more problematic to balance around due to the nature of anti-magic in Renalta: Anti-magic is a two way street. It both affects positive and negative spells against your person and impacts your ability to cast magic yourself. Consider it the ultimate price, if you want to be immune to magic, that is all magic. Atop this it takes a while to really become fully immune, due to the nature of magic. There aren't many that are fully immune, many simply have a high amount of resistance. Which still isn't anything to scoff at.

Also remember what I typed above, the more abilities you compound into one trait, the less overall effectiveness they will have.

+ Advanced resilience against mind control and mind reading <- Upgraded specific Fortitude?
+ Advanced weakness detection and ruse detection for mages and magic <- Better Sharp & Wells of Power? (Three standard upgrades in one trait.)
+ Advanced detection of mages and magic <- Wells of Power again? (Four.)
+ Advanced knowledge of how magic works (But can’t use it himself) <- Apprentice, though a unique can substitute for it to specifically focus on the magic knowledge, yes. (Five.)
+ Ioss, a unique magic absorbing shield <- Atop the equivalent of five standard traits you've added a magic immune shield. This alone should be a trait, as magic immunity is immensely strong, leave alone a "toggleable" one where you can still receive the benefits of magic from allies without the negatives from enemies.

Ioss – These rare shields are accustomed to most of the Mage Hunters that join the Order. This shield is a nearly weightless steel gauntlet fitted to the weak hand of the user. On command, it creates a transparent force shield that can absorb magic. Magical projectiles as absorbed and dispensed swiftly and weapons made purely of a spell or magic are disrupted for a moment and cannot be remade for a short period of time. Note that this does NOT stop weapons and projectiles that are enhanced by magic, BUT does negate the magical affects it may apply. Also note that this shield can only absorb a certain amount of magic before dissipating and re-energizing itself.

Disrupting Mace – Simple magically enhanced weapons made to disrupt magical protection on contact for a short period of time. <- You can't disrupt magic protection with a standard weapon. You could acquire one on your travels in the RP, but not on start.
Disrupting Longsword – As disrupting Mace <- As Disrupting Mace. ;)

Note that I also slapped Raen with the "too much in one ability" criticism, so you aren't alone in getting this. A downfall of a system that implores you to go wild on creativity but still has power levels and dice rolls in the background.

Elrithos Sand Runner

Biography

#1: Note that priests in Rheinfeld still had magic powers even after the gods vanished. I'd assume the sand priests would also retain their powers.
#2: The Nine Hells have not yet invaded. They're still spreading agents around and trying to get corruption and weaken threats.
#3: The Blighted Lands are not really a livable place for an entire civilization. If they were, the Free Holds or Tuleria would already be on it, though I can ignore this, it's minor.
#4: To get help from the Free Holds you'd have first passed all the way through Tuleria. You'd have to confirm with Tempest, but I think at least Boann would want to harbour the desert elves in their time of need, knowing he could ask them for help later against the potential civil war in his lands.
#5: They're a desert nomadic people. If their lands are uninhabitable, they can move to deserts further north, likely in Tuleria, but I could still understand why they would want to get the Queen's Blades to support them in retaking it, if you do really want them to live there. Just try to avoid having them in imminent danger because chances are that either means the Queen's Blades have to immediately devote resources to quashing the threat, ending your character arc early, or abandon them to die, which would likely and logically result in your character leaving the Blades out of wrath.

Uniques

Runners of the Desert
+ Increased resilience and pain tolerance <- Endurance 2?
+ Increased Senses (Sight and hearing) <- Specific variation of sharp, it's fine. Would have granted hearing free anyway, being an elf.
+ Resilient to Extreme climates (Hot and Cold) <- Minor trait so it's fine to just throw in.
+ Minor resistance to Fire and Ice magic <- Likely related to the extreme climates, so this doesn't need to be separate and can fold in with the above ability.
+ Increased endurance and cardio for Survival, Fights and Long Distance Runs <- Endurance 2?

Overall solid, ish. Though I'd pick either increased resilience and pain tolerance or increased endurance and cardio, not both.

Ancient Aavikanian Warfare – Defend and Survive – Stage I:

+ Advanced combat maneuvers and knowledge with swords and double bladed weapons <- Greater skill, okay.
+ Basic deflection and parrying with two single edged swords in hand or double bladed weapons <- Presumed knowledge, unnecessary as an ability.
+ Increased Dodging and Evasion against melee opponents (Must be aware of the danger) <- Slippery 2?
+ Basic knowledge of Mounted Combat <- Presumed knowledge, unnecessary as an ability.
+ Basic knowledge of combat with Spears and Bows <- Presumed.
+ Sandblade – Special Aavikanian weapon <- Since it's just a special weapon that has no extreme characteristics beyond basically being a double edged staff, you can have this without needing to make it part of a custom trait to strengthen the trait overall.

Overall pretty balanced, you can easily upgrade it too.

The Templar has more issues than the desert elf. Still, work is needed.

A second post is on the way to address more RP-wide concerns, but I figured with how in depth this one got, it should be its own post for Rayne.

Names for characters?

Feed a man a fish, teach a man to fish...

A. Google [culture/species] name generator. ex: German name generator.

B. Name your thing after a thing in real life. Ex: Kouri = Curry. Because Kouri is a fire mage. And curry is spicy.

Legend of Renalta 2: Reborn

@Everyone: Just so ya'll know.

Yes, that is the giant ball room post that you probably cannot and should not read in just one sitting. Yes, it was so giant I had to divide it in two.

Q: Where's Tuleria?
A: When I can work with Tempest on it I'll add Tuleria at a later date. Our schedules are simply a mess right now, so nailing that one down is proving to be a bit of a buggery kangaroo.

Q: Holy shit you don't expect me to read all of that do you?
A: No, you can skim it to your heart's content. It's just giving you literally every single piece of information you could possible need on every faction and the ball room, giving you all the information and opportunity you need to potentially form early contracts which you can use later. If you have a favourite faction, you can choose to just read that one. There's little harm in it.

Q: What happened to Meryl and Gustavo?
A: Dungeon. Collab to be finished later.

Q: Wait, I can talk to these people? These national leaders and their advisors and shit?
A: Talk, flirt, challenge--do what you want, or what you need, or both. I'll be available all week to help you out.

Q: MISSIONS PLOX?
A: Soon™. Brain needs to relax first after that massive amount of work, but I have the rest of this week off work after tonight's shift, so... We'll see.

Legend of Renalta 2: Reborn

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The Free Holds: Introduction

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Just as the people of the Goblin Holds had finally dispersed into the crowds and taverns of the capital city, another desert caravan arrived behind them. Even later than expected, as they had to clean sand from all of their things. Such, marvellous things, indeed, as even the camels were covered in gold, silver, platinum, and jewels, dragging behind them further gold and silver. There were elephants and scorpions and wolves and all such variety of animals, some of which barely fit the city streets as the crowds on each side made room for them to pass. Still, there were some other, not such beautiful sights that the crowds had the misfortune of seeing: Slaves. Fairly well dressed slaves, remarkable, most even modestly, but still, the crowds tended to grow silent and reserved at the sight of them, despite being offered ‘the charity of the holds’ in the form of small pouches of gold and silver.

At the front of this immense caravan of at least fifteen hundred men and women is a carriage, of sorts. It is floating without the need or aid of men and women to lift it through the aid of a magician dressed in thick, purple robes who stood in front of the front of the caravan. Surprisingly enough given the circumstances, he was a tiefling. Inside sat an older man with darker skin and short, curled black hair. He was young and yet tired looking judging by the bags under his eyes, and the sign of wrinkles starting to form across his forehead. Others sat inside with him, at least a half a dozen men and one woman of various ethnicity, race, and appearance. Each was the ruler of a hold in the Free Holds, large or small... And all, predictable, arguing.

”Look, we can’t just march an army into Southblood!” One chimed in. ”Ever since the Gods were banished it has grown to nearly three times the size and power it had before!” Another shakes his head in disagreement. ”Of course we can, we just aren’t foolish enough to try it. That’s why we hire assassins.” A third spoke up, this one the woman. ”And your brilliant plan to hire assassins is foolish. The crescent sisters are no longer available to us and others cannot get the job done like they could... Given the situation, we couldn’t hire anyone like them again anyway.”

As they continued to squabble, the man with black hair rested his head in his hands and groaned. The magician at the front crosses his eyebrows, and telepathically spoke to him. ”Fahim, I know you tire of your current form, but I need you to hold it for just a while longer.” Fahim nods and telepathically communicates back to the magician. ”You’re sure it will happen here?” There was a momentary pause as Fahim looked about the interior. ”Absolutely. There is no reason for Deimos’ assassin to--”

Boom. In a single moment, without warning, the entire carriage explodes violently, sending wooden shards in several directions. The crowd on either side of the street shrieked in momentary terror before watching the sharps hit invisible barriers, and fall to the ground harmlessly. There was some blood sprayed as well, but not nearly enough for the seven people inside. As the smoke clears, a greyish, slimey mess slowly reforms itself from the puddle it had previously been. The magician nods in appreciation as the keep’s gate guards reached the scene, along with a few Rheinfelder knights and a couple Liverian witch hunters. Both the Rheinfelders and Liverians immediately unsheathed their weapons at the sight of the strange creature, who retook Fahim’s form, with the black curly hair and noble robes decorated heavily in gold and silver... Though with grey, empty eyes.

The magician steps over to Fahim with a smile as he pulls back his hood, revealing his identity as a ruler of one of the most powerful warlords of the Free Holds: Rashad Rhallous. Behind Fahim, some of the other warlords whose likeness had been within the carriage ran to reach the front of the caravan, which had come to a halt. The Renaltan guards usher the Rheinfelders and Liverians to lower their weapons as the keep’s pair of guards approached Fahim and Rashad. ”Wh... Hey... You... Are... What... I...” The two sigh at the same time as the older of the two speaks. ”What is going on? Is everyone alright?” Fahim shrugs as Rashad nods, a gentle looking smile on his face. ”Yes. Of course. Everyone of consequence is perfectly fine.” Fahim then looks to Rashad. ”The assassin was the woman. She had a small but potent ignition which she used magic to amplify by turning the bodies of the two closest men she could reach into a combustible explosive. Boom. Instant powder kegs.” As one of the warlords catches up to the group, he pants, and nods towards Rashad. ”Good work. I hadn’t thought Deimos to be so craven. Or bold.”

Rashad stumbles and reaches for his head as Fahim grabs him around the shoulders. ”Thank you.” Rashad mutters as he looks to the warlord whose life they had just saved. ”Fahim is the one to thank.” The warlord rolls his eyes. ”I know you are soft towards slaves, but stop giving them credit. He is your property so it was your idea.” The keep guards scratch their heads in a mixture of anger and confusion. ”Can we just... Go to the keep? And you can explain all of this to the Queens?” Rashad nods appreciatively. ”Of course.”

After a short amount of travel, with little explanation as to Fahim’s powers or who Deimos was, they entered the keep. With Fahid and Rashad came the other warlords that had joined Rashad in the invitation to visit Renalta, and with them came attractive looking men and women, as well as rather tough looking bodyguards. Rashad spots the look on Queen Kouri’s face at the sight of the “dancers” who had followed the other warlords in and yelled loudly, proudly, and joyfully. ”THESE ARE INDEED SLAVES! We know your laws, and while we travelled with some, they are well treated. We are not the brutish thug you met in your travels in Southblood. We have some...” He is momentarily distracted as a dark skinned, curvacious elf passes him by and winks. ”... Standards.”

As Kouri is about to reply, Sarah Darkhammer steps in and stares at Fahim. Her eye twitches as Fahim has a slight, vicious smirk cross his lips. ”You should be dead.” His smirk only grew at her annoyance. ”So should Enigma, and yet, he lives.” Kouri looks in confusion between them as Sarah, quietly, narrows her eyes at Fahim and explains. ”Many ages ago the Mechanists attempted to create artificial life. Prior to their attempts with Golems, they wanted the perfect assassins... Shapeshifters. They only succeeded with a select few creatures, and all were insane.” Rashad interjects quickly as Sarah’s hand twitches. ”Were! Were is the key word. I found Fahim in the desert, and decided he would be useful, but he proved to be more than just an assassin...”

Kouri raises her hands and pushes Sarah back a little, feeling an all too familiar chill run down her spine. ”Cut it.” She mutters as Sarah obliges in disrupting the spell that had linked them from Kouri’s mere touch. The Queen then looks at Rashad. ”Alright. Fine. I’m going to ignore the slaves for now, and your shapeshifter. Just...” She points towards the doors. ”What in the Gods was that sound?” Rashad’s breath catches in his throat as he takes a deep breath. Looking to Fahim momentarily for some help, Fahim merely shrugs again. He sighs, and faces the Queen once more, straightening his collar as he did so.

”Well... To keep it short and simple, there is a man who rose to power recently named Deimos. We have no doubt this is not his real name. He rose to power retaking the hold we lost to the Imperium, and has been violently disposing of the other warlords one by one, and installing his own puppet rulers. We were going to be his next targets seeing as how we bring the strongest opposition to him... However... One thing this ‘Deimos’ does not seem to understand.” He motions to the dark skinned dancer from earlier, who was putting a powder in a drink. ”If anyone knows assassins...” He pauses for a few moments as the dancer approaches, handing him a drink. ”It is us.” He spills the drink on her clothes as Kouri motions for a couple of guards to take her away. ”We are the best kingmakers and king killers you can find.”

Kouri sighs and rolls her eyes, looking up at the ceiling of the ball. ”Just make sure the assassins here do not harm a single soul. If they do...” She looks back down at him, glaring. ”I will hold you personally responsible.” Rashad nods as motions for Fahim to keep a lookout. ”There should be no further problems.” He stares after her as she turns to walk away. ”Ah... I might add something of interest, to you?” The queen turns, still with a glare as he continues. ”... Something I want to change... Is when this... Deimos, is removed, when the nine hells are finished... I plan on making this little... Council, of warlords, permanent... And the first thing I will try to do is set laws that slaves are people, not objects.” Kouri shakes her head with a bit of sorrow in her eyes. ”They should not be slaves, at all.” She turns to leave once more, only to have Rashad raise a hand once again asking her to stay momentarily. She sighs and turns. ”... By the way... We brought some exotic dresses for you and your wife, as gifts.” Kouri’s glare returns. ”... Not that kind. Well, mostly not that kind. Trust me! You are... Far too gracious a host for us to propose wearing the garb of some simple dancer!” She shakes her head and motions for him to show her, motioning Alex to come with her as she does.

All the while, Fahim and Sarah occasionally eyeball each other, and otherwise keep looking around for potential threats.

---

The Underdark Coalition: Introduction

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((Note: Valsharess is an equivalent position to “queen.”))

As the Free Holds finally dispersed there was a slight rumbling as the roadway just behind Renalta’s city gate broke away and fell into a deep hole, several feet in size. A dwarf slowly pokes his head out of the hole, his helmet covered in dirt and dust as he looks around at the shocked looks of the gate guards. ”...Surface dwellers. Feh.” He grips the edge of the hole tightly, though it doesn’t seem to matter much as the drow woman beneath him shoves him up onto the ground. He flails momentarily as the drow woman steps out, dusting her rather revealing dress off with great annoyance as her ebony skin was revealed by the evening sun. ”This is ridiculous.” She says as she looks at the dwarf. ”What are you flailing about for?!” The dwarf stops and stares at the woman, then looks around. ”... I... Was told I would fall into the sky!” The drow woman reaches up and pinches the bridge of her nose, great irritation crossing her face. ”... Why are you dwarves so gullible...”

Still. Further dwarves and drow start to pour out of the hole, side by side, the dwarves in a mixture of armours and martial weapons, the drow in their ceremonial garments, and noble robes. Some of the first to leave the hole were a drow and a dwarf of rather unique appearances. The other drow and dwarves seemed to look upon them with a certain sense of reverence. The dwarf was adorned head to toe in thick plate mail, a heavy mace rested upon his back as his beard unfurled in several braids down his chest to his waist. Upon his head sat a golden crown. Beside him, the tall, drow woman wore a rather revealing dress that showed off her midriff and was patterened in a black-purple colour scheme. Adored across it were many images of spiders of various shapes and sizes, and following her was a large spider, also adorned in lighter armour.

The dwarf looks over to his drow companion and snorts. ”Ye should be riding yer spider, oh valsharess.” His thick accent came through pretty clearly, as did the tease. ”We drow revere them, as you know. They are holy, we would not ride them... Besides, where is your pet, champion of the dwarves?” The dwarven champion snorts as he pulls a rather large stone out of a pocket of his. ”Her name’s skippy and she loves herself t’ bounce herself off a few fine lassies ‘fer a good brawl n a tavern. Also, it’s Duncan o’ the Rocklover clan to you, drow.” The valsharess rolls her eyes in irritation before gently caressing her spider’s large head, just between its eyes. ”Valsharess, if you would so please... But if you must call me by a first name... Anora. Or mistress... Whichever you prefer.” She says with a small smirk crossing her lips.

They moved quickly for the city’s keep, though as they did, several bystanders watched in awe at their passing. The both of them blink and stare back, though for altogether different reasons. ”A strange lot these people are... They stare out at us without a single weapon amongst them.” Duncan snorts and shoves Anora playfully. ”They’re jus’ frien’ly folks, no sense’n keepin’ any un’s weapons ‘fer’n reasons.” The valsharess blinked in confusion as the spider hissed at the dwarf champion. Duncan glares at the spider, in a challenging manner. ”Try it shit’fer brains and you’ll get smeared on me mace.” The valsharess stops momentarily and coos softly to her spider, calming it immediately. Duncan once again snorts. ”See, n’ this is why’yer lot don’t have any fun. Nobody beats each other to prove they can rule ‘nythin’.”

Quietly and calmly the woman turns and sways her hips as she kneels before her dwarven companion. Running a finger underneath his chin, she smiles slightly. ”You dwarves do a poor job of hiding your interest.” Duncan shrugs. ”It’s hard’n hidin’ me feelings in a honest society, mi’lady.” Anora frowns, pouting her bottom lip out a little as her fingers gently caress his jaws. ”Aww... Close...” He coughs and looks down at the ground. ”Fin’ mistress, I’ll call ye’ that once... But not in front o’ the other royals, got images to keep up n’ such.” Chuckling quietly, Anora returns to her feet. ”Good. It would be such a shame if there were any accidents before we returned to the underdark.” He stands stunned for a moment as she passes him by, spider in tow. The spider in turn hisses at him as it passes. Shaking himself out, the dwarven champion instinctively goes to straighten his collar, though being made of metal, it was hardly adjustable. ”That is one hell o’ a woman... Keepin’ her cool...” He mutters quietly to himself.

Finally, they arrive at the keep’s gates. As with all the other cavarans before theirs, they dispersed. The two keep gate guards looked at each other before looking the drow valsharess over. ”... Well, you seem... Appropriately dressed mi’lady.” The younger one says, blushing brightly as the drow queen rests a hand on his chest. ”Oh, you think so?... You know, flattery will get you everywhere...” The young man fumbles, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes widen, utterly intoxicated. The older guard narrows his eyes and snaps his fingers. ”Eh’, snap out of it.” The younger man does not respond as the drow woman whispers something in his ear. He immediately kneels and presses both of his arms against his chest. ”Yes mistress! Of course! I will do anything you say!” His voice was strained as the valsharess stepped back, her subtle handiwork accomplished. ”Be careful young man... Some pretty things are quite venomous for you.” She gently rests her hand on her spider as it coos gleefully. Duncan, on the other hand, merely moved past the whole lot and entered the keep.

As he did so, several stopped and stared at the odd sight of the short figure standing awestruck at how vaguely similar this place was to his home. Torches on the walls made out of real stone... Nice, velvet carpets made out of silk... Before his eyes reach, what was to him, the delicate frame of queen Kouri. He clears his throat as he bows before everyone there. ”Well... Ah... Hm... Public speeches aren’ my thing. So... Hello, I am... The grand champion of the dwarven peoples. I represent the pinnacle of physical and mental success.” He was trying his damned hardest to clear out his accent to make it understandable to others, and yet, hints of it remained. ”An’ I’m here to answer ye call to this party... Ball... Celebration, of yours.” Uncomfortable with the looks he was getting, he shuffled away into the crowd as the queen of the drow finally stepped into the room.

”I am Anora... Though you should call me by my title, Valsharess. Queen of the drow, and leader of the coalition.” Her eyes wander over the room, noticing the appreciative looks she was getting her lips curl up into what appeared to be a warm smile, though a few recognized the daggers that laid behind it. ”... And I, like the somewhat... Shy, Duncan of the dwarves, have come to offer open arms of companionship for any that should seek it.” She, like Duncan, bows, though this was with far greater eloquence as she then immediately approached the ‘delicate’ looking queen, unlike Duncan, who was content to try (and fail) to blend in with the crowd.

Kouri watched as Anora approached, and bowed her head slightly in respect. ”Welcome to my kingdom.” The valsharess pouted as she noticed that Kouri didn’t even bat an eye at her appearance. Then again, the valsharess noted quietly to herself, there was a drow general in this kingdom who likely told her all about drow customs... And drow tricks. Still, her own eyes wandered over Kouri, and unlike Duncan who merely saw a delicate woman, she saw so much more judging by the way she quietly closed the small gap between them, getting close to Kouri. ”Ah, yes, this... Surface world is such a... Different, place.”

Kouri hesitated as she took a step back. Anora noticed the hesitation and stepped forward, immediately grasping Kouri’s hand. ”Please, do not be alarmed, I have no intention or ability to do to you what I did to your guard... He simply had to be showed his place. After all, we women are far more sophisticated, interesting... Especially you.” Kouri’s eyes narrow into a glare as she slaps the valsharess’ hand away. In turn, she takes the step back in surprise. ”You are so... Personal, I am sorry if I offended you, you surfacers are very... Private, with your space, it is something I have heard of but never really experienced.” Kouri sighs and shakes her head. ”I am married... And the last woman with such powers as yours to try influencing me, even a little, was a half-succubi... And she nearly was lit aflame.”

Quietly, the two women eyeball each other. Two drastically different cultures collided, and yet, they were both politicians, they could both see that in one another. ”Our negotiation tactics are... Different.” The valsharess remarks quietly, and with uncertainty. ”Quite.” Kouri replies softly. Already things were made awkward between them. ”Well... I... Think we should... Speak more later. About other things than... Personal rules, and social conduct.” Anora stated, watching like a hawk for any kind of response from Kouri, who merely gave her a blank look as she hid how she felt about it. ”Of course... Though, Alexandria will also be present when we speak of what it is your coalition needs from the queen’s blades.” The valsharess then chuckles and smirks flirtatiously. ”The more the merrier as the dwarves are fond of saying.” With that said, she turns to cavort with the rest of the ball, and yet from the way she walked Kouri couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath all of that flirtatious veneer was a deadly predator waiting for the right victim to entangle in her web. ”Ugh...” She mutters as Liveria’s princess approaches her side, staring at the drow queen. ”Are you okay Kouri?” Sh asks softly as Kouri nods. ”Yes, I just feel disgusting now. I could use a nice, cold bath after that.”

---

The Amazons: Introduction

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((Note: You may want to read the others before this one. It’s essentially a “conclusion” as well as an intro for the Amazons.))

As the evening sun finally and slowly began to dip behind the city’s large walls, the last of the envoys finally arrived. The Amazonian troupe was little more than a pack of fifty or so women, carrying a variety of weapons and tribal trinkets with them. Each of them were carrying travel packs, even the blatant leader of the group, who stood ahead of the rest. The princess of the Amazons herself had come to see this blasted world of stone and civilization. The crowds had dispersed somewhat, though the remainder stared, many in a mixture of wonder and lust at such exotic women. They said nothing, and kept to themselves, avoiding the great displays of power and wealth that others had thrown out for gravitas. Wasted resources, in the mind of an amazon.

Still. Without delay or ruckus, they reached the keep’s guards. The younger man was still recovering from his traumatizing experience earlier, while the older man stood wearily, looking over the Amazons. ”... Finally.” He says with irritation as he motions them inside. Some of the women stayed outside and nodded to each other, each diverging to a different part of the city. Likely to explore it and report back their findings to their princess later, not that there was anything particularly secretive about the capital to discover.

Still. The entire ball room--underdark coalition, liverian, renaltan, free holder and goblin holder, all of them--stopped and stared at the strange and yet fascinating appearance. The few amazons that joined their princess were decked out in full leather armour, each painted individually with a series of otherwise indecipherable and unintelligible tribal symbols. The princess, however, was something altogether different. Standing in what looked like plate mail, but lighter, and with a dark red tone, the drake scale covered woman glared at the Free Holders in particular. Raising her staff high, a few droplets of blood strike the floor of the ball as Amanda the Archmage glanced at Kouri with concern. ”When next you send an assassin, send someone that does not smell of the rot that contaminates your people.”

Rashad steps out from the crowd, humbly kneeling before the rather aggressive princess. ”My lady, please, why would I dare stoop to such lows with you? Think about it. I have my own causes. My own battles to wage within my own people... Why would I dare start a war with yours? Your enemies are the same as my own, Amazon.” The princess furrows her eyebrows, and then waves Rashad off, choosing to believe his feeble tale. ”I am Princess Ethlinn, of the Amazonian people. I am a shaman, and I am here not only to enjoy in the generous hospitality of the people of Renalta...” Her eyes wander to queen Alexandria, a spark of interest instantly appearing in the amazon’s eyes. ”...But to later ask for your help in exchange for our loyalty.”

Crown-Prince Xavier rolls his eyes as he steps out from the crowd, his cold stare matching that of the one the princess gave him. ”Amazon, we are all here to ask for help. We merely are celebrating that the queen’s blades are competent at their jobs first. After all, it is a feat to save an entire village.” The amazon steps forward, slowly approaching Xavier, who in turn approaches her back until they are standing closely to one another. ”My concerns might save the lives of thousands.” The princess whispers to him, though loudly enough that with the deafening silence of the ball room, everyone knew what she had said. ”As could mine.” Xavier replied, his cold, hard stare not leaving him. ”However, we must allow at least some room for hope and celebration... We need to allow ourselves to get to know each other, trust each other, so that the nine hells cannot turn us against one another.” The princess seems to think about it for a few moments before nodding in agreement. ”Fair enough, liverian.”

Queen Kouri steps out into the middle of the ball room, and looks around at all the starring faces. So many different peoples, cultures. ”It is true. There are pressing matters to attend to.” She begins her speech as she takes a deep breath, commanding attention with the way she stood, and spoke. ”Some of us are traditionally allies.” Her eyes wander to the Eternal Empress of the Imperium. ”Some, enemies.” She then turns to face Taigyn and the rest of the Templar Order, of Rheinfeld. ”However, we are all united by a common cause. I will keep it blunt and simple: We want to survive. We want to preserve our ways of life, and see our families and friends safe and sound. I won’t lie to you. Sacrifices will be made.” Alexandria walks over to Kouri’s side, and grasps her hand gently, ushering her to continue.

Squeezing Alexandria’s hand tightly, Kouri does, her voice growing with determination. ”Even in the defence of Arian village, some of our own fell in the line of battle. Two did not make it home. One, a brave liverian, and the other, a courageous dweller from the underdark. However, their sacrifices were not in vain. The bombs were all disarmed, all the civilians were saved, and we captured a powerful demon child of Sloth, as well as her guardian.” She looks around the room. ”We have names for our enemies now. We know what some of their tactics are now. We know what to look for to detect them.” As her eyes wander to Taigyn, he joins in on the speech giving, pride swelling within him. ”I travelled with the queen once before, and she defeated impossible odds against a force that everyone thought was invincible.” He avoided directly naming the gods as an adversary, knowing that it might upset some of the templar in the room if he did. ”That was with a handful of misfits and outcasts. Now she has an entire nation backing her, and I trust her.” He bows his head and presses a fist to his chest. Xavier nods in agreement as he looks to Kouri. ”We have had our disagreements, but I also trust you... As a... Friend.” His thinly veiled frown meant little as he bowed his head anyway. ”Without her, the Imperium would no longer exist. We, too, as formal allies to the state of Renalta, would place our trust in this woman.” The Eternal Empress bows her head, though Florence does not.

While everyone else seems amazed by the amount of trust placed in this one woman, none of them followed suit. Kouri clears her throat and continues where she left off. ”So.” She turns to face the princess of the Amazons, who was awestruck by the sheer amount of power that had just sworn itself to Kouri’s cause. ”After this night of celebration and introductions is through, and we all have rested, tomorrow, on a fresh day, I will address all of your concerns. I will then leave it in the hands of our perfectly capable Blades to decide what is of the utmost importance.” She then smiles softly. ”Speaking of.” She points to certain places around the room. One by one, on cue, Amanda summoned lights to shine on each of the Queen’s Blades. Both those that had been at the Arian invasion, and those that had just joined recently or were simply absent from the battle. ”These are the Queen’s Blades. They are all here protecting you, and are all available to be spoken with for the entire duration of the ball.”

Finally, she takes a deep breath and sighs softly. “I saved this world from oppression once, and I will do so again. So long as we stand together, we’ll make it through whatever crises shall come up against us over the next few weeks and months.” Finally, she bows her head, signifying that her small speech on the spot was over. The entire ball room relaxed as the amazonian princess approached queen Alexandria. Kneeling down on one knee, she pulls a ceremonial short blade off of her waist and offers it to her. ”I decided that if I should be begging for help, I should at least bring gifts of common courtesy.” Alexandria takes it, and after a few brief words with Kouri and a gentle kiss, is left to speak with the amazonian princess while Kouri meandered about the rest of the ball room.

Legend of Renalta 2: Reborn

Collaborative: Andrea & Brovo

---

((Totally optional fluff, meant for the old guard. Collaborative between Andrea and Brovo.))

The ball room was quiet. It was still a couple hours ahead of when even the Imperium was supposed to arrive, and for the first time in days, the room had naught one sign of human life save that of Mikan who was leaning against a pillar, arms crossed. Tapping her foot on the floor, she looks up at the ceiling and hums quietly to herself. "They're late..." She mutters softly. They had been sent to check around the floors above the ball room, to make sure that there were no 'secret holes' or other such nonsensical things... And they were late to come back. So this means they either found something, or started messing around... No, not the latter. She would have felt it.

A hand softly brushed over Mikan's shoulder to her chin and turned her head gently around. "We are never late." Salinï said with a smirk. "We arrive precisely when we want to." She added as Jamiahl appeared from the other side holding something odd in her hands, a plushie, bearing a likeness to queen Alex. "We found that, at first we thought you might like it." She smiled and then frowned. "But..."

Jamiahl held it up and gestured to a set of needle stitches at the back. "Faint magic aura, someone cut it open and put something inside."

Salinï nodded, "Figured some of the pet mages might want to check it out if it's something, or just harmless."

Mikan shudders to the touch, the edges of her lips tilt upwards as her breath catches in her throat. Even after years of time with them, it was hard to stay in control. "Gosh... I feel like I'm ten years younger with you two around." Giggling, she sighs and happily pushes herself against Salinï, back facing her while she looked at Jamiahl and the Alex doll. "... Here, let me have a look at that." She reaches out with one hand, motioning for Jamiahl to come closer.

Smiling she got closer and then frowned, looking at Mikan for a long while, she had always been the more observant of her sisters. She reached out with a hand, gently tracing over Mikan's cheek. "You have the shakes again, don't you?" She asked, not accusingly or unkindly.

Mikan nods, and looks down at the stone floor. There were so many beautiful decorations about, and yet, her mind was flooded with other things, that made it hard to see such beauty. Grasping Salinï's hand gently, she takes a deep breath. "I know why... I've been having these shakes... Especially now..."

Salinï squeezes Mikan's hand in her own and nods slowly. "It has been a while... hasn't..." She smiled, frowning at the concerned look of Jamiahl.

"... Mm..." Mikan looks up to Jamiahl and motions her closer again, a small if somewhat bitter smile on her lips. "Please, don't stand so far from me... Not for this..."

Jamiahl sighs and shook her head, approaching closer, "You know I get concerned when you have your shakes." She says softly but hugs close.

"I know... And there's something you need to know, that you likely weren't told... When you became, well... What you are now." Another giggle leaves her lips as she happily settles into their warm embrace, almost like a lost lamb. She felt like she belonged there, which was different than how she usually felt. "So... I asked Amanda for a favour, and got texts about demons, and their various magics and tools..." She looks between their two faces, looking almost fearful. The connection they shared would let them know she was nervous, and didn't want to upset them.

Salinï let out a snort and kisses Mikan's cheek, "Whatever you have to tell us, don't worry little bird." She smirks, "Worst we can do is tie you to the bed again to torture you with whips... and our tails... and the flogger... wait not the flogger, apparently last time we woke up the entire inn and they thought we were killing someone." She smirked still and let out a chuckle when Jamiahl rolled her eyes.

Jamiahl kissed Mikan's other cheek, "Tell us."

"... Well..." She swallows back nervousness, her lips quivering a little. "... The point of enthrallment... For succubi... Was to make someone more willing to succumb to their needs, again and again... But, it is also to... Prime them..." She looks up into Jamiahl's eyes. "To become one of them, or to become some other kind of demon... It's been years of this, and with the nine hells invading..." Her hands start to shake a little, even thinking about the consequences was both enthralling and terrifying. "... I'm more vulnerable than ever..."

Both sisters looked at each other over Mikan's head, Jamiahl frowning in thought while Salinï let a curse slip from her lips. "Well.... guess being born a halfbreed does tend to skip the regular orientation speech about how it works for a succubi..." She offered a weak smile.

Jamiahl let out a snort, "So it would seem." She cupped Mikan's chin and looked into her eyes, her look one of concern for a loved one, in this case Mikan. "Did these texts mention anything about to negate these effects? Besides our alchemic concoction?"

Mikan shakes her head. "Nothing, really... Useful..." She clenches her hands into fists, and the shaking stops, at least, momentarily. "... Apparently, some very old magics can do it, but... Amanda admits they're incomplete, she would need more information, from the nine hells, or any evil artifacts, and those don't exactly... Drop out of the sky." Mikan's feelings could be felt by the both of them, their connection with one another was especially strong lately. For better, or for worse... Though Mikan felt a mixture of excitement and uncertainty, she felt comforted by their presence. "Right now, I just... Have to stay in one piece... And you two can help me... Like you did before."

Jamiahl nods slowly, "We can do that... or we should just find a way to lose our powers, the demon taint." Salinï looked up sharply at that and Jamiahl glared at her, "It should be a option." She then smiled and kisses Mikan softly. "But for now... let's help you from the shakes... and afterwords... I think one of us needs to stay close to you at all times."

"For the ball... I was thinking to keep you both in the ball room, here." Quietly Mikan motions to both sides of the throne, only a few feet away. "If anyone causes trouble, a pair of succubi leaping to the aid of the Queens would be... Quite a sight." Biting her bottom lip she looks at them both. "We won't have much time for fun..." She pouts, then looks to a nearby hall. "Just a couple doors to a storage room... And after we've had our fun, and the ball is over... We can talk about what we can do. Either way..." Closing her eyes she melts into Salinï's embrace, she wanted to be carried to the room. "... I love you... Both of you. And no matter what happens, I wanted you to know that... You are irreplaceable, and whether you give up your taint or I join you both in it, we will stick together."

Salinï purred and kissed Mikan deeply, only letting go because Jamiahl leaned in to kiss their favourite green haired scoundrel herself. "We love you little bird, if sacrificing our pwoers will mean you will have better life with us... I'd happily do so.... I will miss the things we can do with our tails though..." She smirked and winked.

Jamiahl snorted and rolled her eyes but was smiling... then got a thoughtful look on her face and looked at the empty ballroom... and the throne.

Salinï noticed and smirked, "Hmm... Mikan, do you think we should make a... thorough check of that... very comfortable looking throne? Instead of going to the storage room..."

The sly grin that reached Mikan's lips could only be described as devilish and sweet, as she runs a finger across Salinï's lips, and Jamiahl's lips. "Mm... We -do- have this room to ourselves for a few more minutes... And I always wanted to be a little princess~" She twirls playfully between them, slipping from Salinï to Jamiahl. "... If it's on the throne, then I make only one request." She leans and whispers in Jamiahl's ear. "...Barbed."

Soon after, maids thoroughly scrubbed and cleaned both thrones before the ball started. They were, most probably, by and far, the cleanest objects in the entire metropolis after they were done.

---

The Imperium: Introduction

---

Arriving significantly ahead of schedule, an entire legion of Imperium soldiers arrived at the capital city. Moving in a marching ordered formation, rigid and near perfect, they did not so much as look at the surrounding populace, who lined the city’s streets to stare in awe. At the front of the legion were those known as the immortal brigade: Soldiers who had ten thousand years of battle hardened experience. In every conceivable way they were perfect soldiers, and yet, while the younger parts of the legion that followed them displayed pride, this motley group of men and women (though mostly men) did not. In fact, they displayed little emotion whatsoever. Even when children attempted to goad them on into smiling, offering gifts, or asking questions, the immortal brigade remained solemn and silent.

At the very front of it all was Florence Merryweather on horseback, who was the lead general of the reassembled Imperium. Beside him was a rather unsettling looking woman, with long silvery hair and pale skin. Shorter than him, but commanding a greater presence as a couple members of the Imperium’s senate followed behind her. Prattling on about this issue or that idea, Florence rolled his eyes. He had little patience for politicians. Most solutions were far simpler than they ever allowed them to be. Finally, however, and with a beleaguered sigh, he offered the politicians some answers.

”Senators, the river separating our ancient lands from our new home will be held. We hold the bridges and can sabotage them at any time--” One of the senators, an older gentleman, interrupts him. ”--And that, is what you said about the West Hold Colonia. Something which you were obviously wrong about. What is the harm in asking the Mage’s Guild for help?” Florence glares at the senator. ”In case you forgot your history, the entire reason the Imperium fell is because of the Mage’s Guild.” The senator glares back, apparently unimpressed with the general’s attempt to intimidate him. ”Propaganda, history clearly shows that both sides were to blame.” Florence shakes his head. ”I was there. I saw it for myself. We cannot trust these people.”

”You both know that debating politics here is fruitless. Nothing said here will change the fact that we were summoned by our allies.” A ghostly--but feminine--voice rang out loudly enough that even the small crowds could hear it, and were both mesmerized and scared by it. The pale woman looks around at the peasants, her expression unchanged, and her lips did not move, but again, the words came. ”Worry not. I am the Empress of the Imperium. The guardian of the dream that is empire. You are our allies, and I will protect you as I protect my own people.” The crowds seemed to be soothed by that, and returned to being in a curious state.

Florence glances at Maurie, and though his expression remained as tough as the iron the gladius at his waist was made out of, his shoulders dropped a little, tension leaving him as his tone softened, if only but a little. ”Of course... Well done... Maurie.” There was a bit of awkwardness from him, uttering her first name and not calling her Empress. He almost seemed conflicted between protocol and personal expression. ”... Though curious you would not see them as your people.” Maurie looks back to him. ”They are not.” The voice came again, though this time quieter, keeping the conversation amongst themselves. ”... Yet, they are. All men, regardless of race or creed, came from the bosom of the empire... These are all our people. I agree that we owe them our protection, however... I worry, sometimes. About you. About the dream. We have a long task ahead of us, but now, we age, like any mortal man... I also worry... About your...” He motions to her form.

”I know.” Maurie says, the tone taking an almost motherly tone to it as she tried to ease his concerns. ”Most know that this form is not my true one.” Florence shakes his head and mutters quietly to himself. ”No, that you can even twist the physical form like that...” Maurie looks at him, as expressionless as before. ”Magic is not evil.” Florence looks back to her, his cold, militaristic expression back. ”No, but it enables one woman to destroy millions... It is an element as wild as fire, but far, far more dangerous... It is the greatest enemy of the noblest dream we once had firmly in our grasp.” He then looks forward, towards the entrance of the keep. ”... Though I cannot deny its invaluable power on this modern battlefield.”

Finally, they arrive to the front doors of the keep. Florence dismounts and looks back at the soldiers following him. ”DISPERSE AND...” He hesitates for a moment. ”... RELAX! TRY TO RELAX!” All but the personal guards attempt this, with the younger members of the legion having a far easier time of ‘relaxing’ than the immortal brigade, which looked about as out of place as it could possible be as they moved about together, still keeping a rough rectangle formation to them.

”How strange.” Commented the older senator from earlier. ”When you try to remain sane for ten thousand years, you cling to whatever is familiar... And it is hard to let go.” The senator blinks, not truly able to comprehend what that meant. Maurie approached the guards. ”Huh, we weren’t expecting you for another hour or so... Ma’am?” The guards say, confused by her appearance. She wasn’t undead, or was she? They couldn’t tell. Florence walks over and looks at them. ”Can you perhaps try to be a little more respectful towards my wife?” The guards appeared even more surprised as Maurie’s voice echoes through the area, as unearthly as it was before. ”We are here to answer Queen Kouri’s call. Seeing as how we have formal treaties with this kingdom, we decided it was appropriate to arrive ahead of schedule...” She then glances at the doors as they open. Mikan stares back.

”Uh... Welcome to Renalta.” Mikan says as she clears her throat awkwardly. ”I am the spymaster, and uh... Well... You’re early and, well--” Two cloaked figures quickly slip past Mikan, each splitting up to investigate the castle grounds. Florence glared at one as he spotted a tail flick in Mikan’s direction before it slid back underneath its cloak. Mikan blushes scarlet. ”...Justcomerightoninsidethequeenswillbeinshortly~” She says as she bows, allowing them inside the ball room.

As they entered the ball room, they would find maids cleaning the thrones, with a dismayed looking queen Kouri, sitting on the floor with her head in the palms of her hands. ”Well, it wasn’t that bad.” A tall, drow vampire commented with a small grin. ”I will never unsee that.” Kouri replies, as she slowly gets onto her feet at the sounds of the approaching people. Spotting Maurie, she immediately smiles warmly. ”Maurie! It has been months since I have last had the chance to see you.” Maurie’s face remained as expressionless as before. ”The battle front against the Free Holds is a rough one.” Florence interjects. ”Nothing more than mild setbacks.”

He then looks at Kouri bows his head, humbly. ”My lady, have you considered my proposal?” The drow once again speaks, his amused tone not leaving him. ”We have, and we’re no men to spare for your armies, nor would we agree to to your legal conscription.” Florence raises an eyebrow. ”And you must be Hanus Wolfblood. The general with a living blade.” Hanus pats the handle of his two handed claymore tenderly. ”Of course.”

”Are you two quite done posturing?” Maurie comments as Kouri chuckles. ”Men.” She says as she looks at Maurie. ”We’ve got a while before the Rheinfeld envoy arrives. Come, lets talk about politics.” Maurie nods. ”Now is a good time.”

With that stated, the two spoke together as the Imperium’s men and Renaltan soldiers intermingled, though they readied themselves for Rheinfeld’s arrival, one could see the close friendship that Renalta’s people and Imperium’s men share with one another.

---

Rheinfeld: Introduction

---

((Collaborative work between Tempest and Brovo.

The Rheinfelders arrived to the city of Renalta in what could only be described as an inquisitional force, and yet, they held no bars on decorative arrangement: Golden armour, heavenly helmets, noblemen's banners, and more could blatantly be seen. Even the horses were decorated with roses, or blades, or other such markings of one nobleman's house or another. At least a thousand men rode in, some being Crusaders with their Templar tutors keeping them on a close leash, and others being part of the Rheinfeld Republic. It was clear who was who: The Crusaders and Templar all wore at least some plate mail, and decorative symbols of their household, if they had any to display at all. The Republic members all wore a mixture of chain mail and wool, carrying a blue emblem with them. There was no sign of the Papacy, who had also received an invitation, but wasn't expected to come anyway, as they had denounced the kingdom as being nothing more than, quote... "A bunch of upstart peasants following an overly energetic corpse queen and her bitch lover." What a lovely human being.

Riding at the front was the leader of the Templar Order, Taigyn, and his second in command, Davian. Beside them rode one of the only Republican members in full plate mail, an ex-Templar, and notable enough, a black woman. She had remained silent the whole journey, and very cold towards the Templar. Davian looked at her with an equal level of coldness. His pale skin and blonde hair gave away his native heritage, and the way he stood, shoulders high, chin up, one could almost think he was being held up purely by his ego alone. Even if he was only second in command... He was rather handsome, though, with his blue eyes. "Taigyn, the palace is ahead. I suggest we allow our men to cavort with the local citizenry, it has been a long and perilous journey, and they deserve rest."

Taigyn looks on, the first time in a long while he had laid eyes upon Renalta since returning back from Cradle with the Queens to be. The capital had grown immensely since a time when nothing of a kingdom could even be claimed to exist. Pride wells within him for a moment that he had been a part that had allowed this to happen. Sorrow was soon to follow, that he had been so long from the companions and friends he had met in his travels since formerly renouncing the order, his life previous on the line from breaking from protocol.

As Davian speaks up, he snaps back Taigyn's attention. The commander of the Templar looks back over his shoulder, craning to see his men before nodding, "It would do them well, but let it be understood that they behave themselves. We may have changed, but much of the world still holds animosity against our Order... And rightly so. We need not give them more reason to detest us and should strive to correct that opinion. Correct?"

"True..." Davian says, as he looks around at the peasantry, who stared in awe at the sight of so many shining men, and a few women, even. He leans in closer and raises an eyebrow. "... But... If the riff raff starts a fight..." Seeing what was a scowl from Taigyn, he clears his throat. "... I will... Make sure to inform the men to... Leave them alive. And untouched. Mostly."

The black woman speaks, finally, glaring at the both of them with an icy look that could only bely someone who wanted nothing to do with them, though especially Davian, moreso than Taigyn. "Watch your tongue, knave. We're right here, you know." Davian rolls his eyes as he slouches back on his armoured horse, reaching for a leather pouch full of wine on the side of his saddle. "My apologies, I forgot the Republic let a flea bitten peasant lead them, my lord." He says to Taigyn, though he really intended it for the woman. "Alida here... She's... Not learned her place as a--" A knife speeds through the air and pierces the pouch, spraying wine all over Taigyn's side as the knife bounces harmlessly off his chest piece. As a response Davian's horse bucks on him and he falls off, yelping in surprise as he lands on his back. Alida then smiles as she looks at Taigyn, though there was a fury in her eyes that could intimidate armies of men. "Yes. Just a peasant. I do not know any better... My apologies." If the sarcasm were any thicker, one would be able to visible see it floating and taunting over a seething Davian, who bit his tongue as he climbed back atop his horse.

Taigyn cannot repress the faint smirk at his lips or the crinkle at his eyes at his amusement, even if the cost was whine soaking into his clothes and likely staining it. "If the men have any disputes, they can bring it up with their superiors. I am sure they have enough discipline to abstain from any more embarrassments to themselves and the Order as a whole." He politely tips his head to Alida and brushes off where the knife had scuffed his plate. "I know I'm not much to look at, Alida, but did you need to help me look even less presentable? I am meeting old friends, after all. What if they think I've taken to hitting the wine too hard in my old age?" He chuckles more to himself than anything.

Alida shrugs and looks forward at the palace, several floors tall and an architectural marvel that only the Mage's Guild could have helped to build. Maybe even Amanda herself. "... We all look poor in front of this monument." She then looks at the sides of the streets, seeing both children and adults, of all races, sizes, and classes, standing side by side as they looked in a mixture of marvel and curiosity. "...And her people." Davian sets his horse to a quick trot to catch up to the both of them, and looks between them. "... Oh please, you're making me sick." Alida rolls her eyes this time. "Oh no. Whatever will we do if the blue blood gets sick." Davian glares at her, then looks over her form with disdain and pity, rather than lust. "I don't know. Whatever demons my stomach conjures for me to spew will certainly still look better than you." Alida shakes her head and snaps the reigns of her horse, moving ahead of both of them. Davian smirks as he leans back once more, instinctively reaching for his wine, only to recall that it was destroyed. "Wench." He mutters under his breath. "... Was a good soldier once, though."

Taigyn turns upon Davian, anger on his face. "You will respect her as you respect myself, Davian. She leads a good cause and embodies much of what we should all strive to be in the wake of what befalls Rheinfeld." He draws back, forcing himself to resume a dignified composure as he continues, "But if you believe you cannot, feel free to join the men in their respite. Replenish your wine. I'm sure you will look more respectable, stumbling drunken down the streets than making a fool of us all in front of the other envoys."

Davian's pride had been hit with that one. The breath caught in his throat as he looked around at the peasantry. Many were looking at him with disdain at what had just gone down. His lip quivers a little as he looks to Taigyn and bows his head obediently. "Yes, my lord. My behaviour was... Unacceptable." It seemed even with pride and nobility, being a Templar, he knew his place in the Order. "...Please... Try to understand... My position, as heir to the longest, noblest houses in all of Rheinfeld, that traces all the way back to Gault... I am... Unused to seeing the world as... Unnecessary of my greater education, that my... Upbringing has... Wielded unto me." His voice strained to find the right words. He was trying, though he struggled. "... Please accept... My most sincere, apologies."

Taigyn bows his head, "I understand. It is a shock to many of us who had long served the Order as it once was. But you do not owe me your apologies, as I see it." He looks after the retreating Alida, shaking his head. "Let us hope all is not lost with this display. I would prefer if a treaty with the Republic could be made sooner rather than later. Too many lives have already been lost, fighting amongst ourselves when the real enemy still remains."

"Hm." Davian looks at his gloved hands, spying the engraving of a falcon in the palm of each of them. He clenches them both and narrows his eyes. "Who is the real enemy... Today it's convenient to befriend these people, tomorrow, when our current enemies lie dead, and the convienence ends, we will be told to defy that which is core to us... Or die." He looks to Taigyn, with a certain amount of brotherhood. "Beware. Any friend today is an enemy tomorrow, given the right circumstances."

Taigyn looks up at the looming gates as his mouth tugs into a look of discomfort, "You say that, but perhaps you have not made good friends, as I have been blessed by chance with." He allows his attention to shift back to Davian, "You are still a young man, eager to make your mark and quick to act upon impulses. Perhaps with time you will see things differently. I was not so different in my younger years, after all." He offers a warm smile far more weathered than his true years should reflect.

Davian smiles back, though still doesn't seem to agree with Taigyn as they arrive at the gates. Tall enough to fit an ogre easily, the guards at the front look at Taigyn and Davian and bow their heads respectfully. Davian bows his head back in response, showing an uncharacteristic respect of the peasantry. "Halt." The guards state, looking to Alida, who had apparently been waiting for them. She dismounts her horse, and pats it on the neck. As it was trained to, it turns back and moves for the stables beside the castle. Others begin to dismount around them, a mixture of Templar and Republican soldiers. "We will enter each individually, to represent our individual factions." Alida states plainly. Davian nods in agreement. "Sensible." He looks to Taigyn, awaiting for him to dismount and lead before doing the same. The guards look at them both. "Who will go first... The Rheinfeld Republic, or the Templar Order?"

Taigyn dismounts from the back of his aged riding lizard, patting him on his back. The lizard gives him a look, eyes spaced out and seemingly looking at nothing as its tongue flicks out and licks over its right eye. Taigyn purses his lips before giving the creature an affectionate scratch between the eyes. "Simple beast, but a good one," he chuckles, grabbing the reigns and directing over where Alida's horse went, "Stables." The creature cocks its head and seems to head that way before looking back at him. Taigyn crosses his arms, giving a challenging look before the lizard finishes slinking onwards, dejected.

With that taken care of, Taigyn turns back to the guards and clears his throat, "If the Republic wishes, I would have them go first. They did technically arrive before us, if only by moments."

Davian looks at the lizard, watching it waddle its way over to the stables. All the men expect some kind of comment about its heritage and grandmother, and yet, Davian smiled. "I had a rather peculiar blood hound growing up. One of his ears was longer than the other, constantly got in the way of his eyes, oft messed up his pursuits... But he was loyal. Loyalty is more important than appearances." He looks at Taigyn, the sense of camaraderie brimming from him as Alida enters with her Republican soldiers. "Say. Guard." He looks at the Renaltan soldier, who stood perfectly still. "You seem noble enough." The guard grins a little. "Actually, my parents were farmers." Davian almost seemed disappointed. "Oh... Well... Everyone can aspire to something, at least."

Taigyn waits, tapping his boots against each other as the Republic procession moves forth. As they pass by, he offers his nod and the occasional well-wish and polite remark. His hand goes up, to scratch his peppered beard as the guards address him once more, calling them to enter. He bows his head in thanks and looks to Davian. "Well, here goes nothing," he smirks, starting forward.

As Taigyn does, Davian snaps his fingers, and a procession of priests and Templar who had gotten ready for the occasion immediately step forward. Davian grabs Taigyn's right pauldron, and holds him back momentarily. "Let the ceremonies commence, remember, you're the leader of a nation, not a... Vagrant." They could both see past the gate as Templar in silver-steel armour, without any decorations beyond those of the Order, formed lines on each side of a red carpet set out for the guests to enter. A pair of priests, both women, enter and begin to speak a prayer in Rheinfelder, the hard language of warriors. The area around the carpet grew with a holy light, as Davian then let go of Taigyn's pauldron. "Now, we may enter. You first, my lord, and I will follow, as any second should." The light would shine off of them specifically, upon entering, the Templar on each side would bow their heads and kneel at the passing of the head of the Order.

Taigyn barely manages to keep the disappointed expression from his face. As much as traditions and ceremonies were a part of the Order, it still felt uncomfortable to him given his time with the Queens and their sortie of misfits. It could not be helped. Raising his head high, he proceeds as tall as he can manage. Davian was right, of course, he was the leader of a faction of power in Rheinfeld now, he would have to follow through with the tedious processions. Just so long as it did not inhibit his time reuniting with those he had not seen in many years, it was something he could abide by.

As they both entered, Davian's chin went right back up the way it had been before, shoulders held high, tall and proud. The ceremony was uptight and overly righteous but displayed the culture of discipline and duty well enough that there was no sense in changing it, it seemed. Save for the Republican soldiers, who stood without formation, many with shoulders slouched, appearing unimpressed by the display. The Imperium, which had arrived before them all, stood and watched with a certain sense of appreciation for the ritual. It was old and they seemed to understand its roots better than perhaps even those who committed to it. As Taigyn and Davian finally reach the end of the procession, they stood mere feet away from Queen Kouri and Queen Alexandria, who each stood close to their thrones. "Queens of Renalta," Davian starts, as he bows his head out of respect. "May I introduce Taigyn, leader of the Templar Order, and rightful ruler of Rheinfeld."

Nearby, Alida crossed her arms and shook her head at Taigyn, disappointed by the sight she saw compared to the man she had seen earlier. "Oh Queens, I do wish to apologize if Taigyn is not at his utmost in appearances, for you see, a wench--" Kouri interrupts him with the raise of a hand, causing Davian to bow his head further and step behind Taigyn. "I don't need to you speak for an old friend." Kouri says with a soft smile. "Welcome back, Taigyn. It's been a long time."

Taigyn removes his helmet, tucking it beneath his arm as he bows before Kouri, "Indeed it has, Prince-- Queen, Kouri." A smirk plays over his lips as he taps by his good eye and directs at Alex, "And you as well, Queen Alexandria." Amusement plays across his face as he takes in her appearance, "And might I say, you look well in a dress. I never thought I myself would witness the day." He straightens himself out, head held high, "As Davian started, apologies for the dishevelled appearance, but I must say, wine is certainly a better colour on me than sand and spider, don't you think?"

"Quite." Kouri says, the smile not leaving her as the procession of templar and priests starts to mingle with the crowd, a piano beginning to play with a violin in the background. There, Taigyn would spot the blind bard who had accompanied them, on his flute. Davian looks between the three and shakes his head, walking off towards the Imperium's men, likely to compare their strength to his own.

It was then that, from the shadows, Mikan slipped out and looked Taigyn over. "You know... It certainly looks better on you than blood... It's been a while..." She says, almost with a hint of remorse.

His smile drops at the sound and sight of the younger Spymaster. His eye closes for a moment as if regathering his thoughts before he steps forward and draws her into a tight embrace. "As I live and breathe, I've caught the Green Fox!" He jests, loosening his grip and drawing back. His face still did not hold the same pleasant merriment as with other just moments before. He looks her over, brows raising, "It... has been some time. You... You look well." He clears his throat and nods awkwardly, unable to take his eyes off the matured girl.

Mikan's lips curl up mischievously as she looks at Taigyn eye to eye, quietly moving herself back up to him and resting a finger atop his chest plate, just underneath his chin. "... Oh, I do more than look well, Taigyn. All you have to do is ask." She giggles, that same childish giggle that she had ten years ago remained with her.

The Templar commander finds himself flushing as he stares at Mikan, fighting down the lump that was suddenly present in his throat. "Ah, well..." he licks his lips and takes a step back, "A welcome gesture, but I am afraid I am I could not ask such." He offers a wry smile, "You know me... Always with rigid formalities and conduct. I'd feel just rotten to saddle any poor woman with such a grizzled old bastard as myself, anyhow."

"Hahahahaha!" Mikan erupts into a soft laughter, before eyeing a little over Taigyn's thighs. "Oh, don't you worry, I would be the one saddling..." She openly enjoyed how much it bothered him to see her become this woman. Still. There were many other matters to attend to, for a Spymaster. "I must get going... For now. I'll see you again, when the party dies down, I think... Oh, and don't be afraid to stare." She winks and walks away from the ball room, likely back to hide in whatever position she had been in to oversee the whole procession. However, as she did, she intentionally put a slight sway in her hips, and hummed a tune quietly to herself.

He blinks, unable to keep from staring after her for a moment, taking in the intentional show before coming to his senses and drawing himself away. He looks about awkwardly, hoping the others to accompany him on his journey here had not just bore witness to his laughable display just now.

---

Kingdom of Liveria: Introduction

---

Unlike others, who marched in grand processions and brought with the many soldiers, Liveria’s envoy was small and to the point. With a mere hundred or so men and women, well armed and many carrying small lizards or birds. Their black uniforms belied the darker architecture of their home, and notable none were on horseback or otherwise. Three people led the procession: A man in his thirties wearing fine red and black silk and linen, with short brown hair and sharp green eyes. He stood tall, though he was only of average height. At his waist his rapier rattled in its sheath, a ceremonial weapon moreso than an actual weapon of war. To each side of himself there was a woman, though they were both quite different in appearance.

The first woman was to his right, and wore a bizarre array of things not commonly found in Liveria, or most other places really. A pair of glasses laid gently on the bridge of her nose, small and meant for reading and yet she wore them nonetheless. Her hair was a very dark shade of brown, one could be forgiven for mistaking it as black, and combed back into a pony tail. She carried no weapons though based on the way her brown cloak draped around her shoulders, she could easily hide a few small weapons on her slender frame. Surprisingly enough, she is taller than he is.

The second woman was to his left, and was shorter than most around her. Standing only at a meagre 5’4”, her eyes were the only ones to wander across the street, the houses, and the bystanders in wonder, even waving to the occasional person in the crowd who waved to her. She was even smiling--something everyone else around her was not doing. While the other two were a bit difficult to recognize, this one was obvious simply by the way her black dress hugged her form, the way her corset tightened around her abdomen, and even the slight hints of makeup on her face that she seemed to cooperate with: Princess Helénē. And like all princesses, she was a beautiful young woman, with quite the family pedigree to match.

So it was no surprise, then, when a man in silver armour brazenly stepped out from the crowd and stopped the small procession. Immediately half a dozen variously sized crossbows flashed out from the Liverian royal guard, though a single hand motion from the man leading them caused the weapons to lower slightly. Either way, the plate mailed man stared at the trio of interesting characters before him and bowed humbly before the one leading them. ”King Xavier,” He starts. ”I am Johannas Fredriech, of the house of Tyvin, of the lands of Rheinfeld. I have humbly come to request a task worthy enough to win the hand of thy daughter.” Xavier looks the man over with a cold stare before looking to his daughter, who appeared extremely uncomfortable with the prospect of being promised to a random stranger.

”No.” Xavier said as he motioned for the knight to leave their presence. ”No? I do not understand. Surely you would wish to wed thy daughter to a high standing member of a society much stronger than your own. Perhaps we could work out an--” The Rheinfelder is stopped as the woman with glasses raises her hand, glaring at him as she lifts him off the ground with magic. Helénē looks at the woman and gasps. ”No! Stop! I command you to stop!” Xavier said nothing, and merely watched the Rheinfelder struggle for breath as the Princess whistles. A small lizard comes plummeting down from the skies and lands on her shoulder. It looked like any regular gecko, but with evolved, gliding wings connecting its limbs to its body, like a parasail. She whispers something to it and it immediately flies and lands on the magician’s face, causing her to stumble. The Rheinfelder drops down onto the street, coughing and sputtering. ”Away with you! Flee, while you have the chance!” Helénē says, the knight nodding in appreciation as he dives back into the crowd.

Immediately the woman with glasses tears the lizard from her face and tosses it towards the ground. He recovers and glides, turning and zipping back to Helénē before hiding on her back and changing his skin tone to match the black silk of her dress. The magician straightens her glasses out and Xavier chuckles. ”Well done Helénē. Though I would have preferred you to use your own magic to stop hers.” Before the magician can protest he raises a hand, silencing her immediately as her shoulders droop, staring down at the street with anger in her eyes. Helénē looks up at her father and frowns. ”Were you just going to let Mila kill that man?” Xavier nodded. ”If he was brazen enough to seek out your hand when I told him no, then he would listen to no other sound than that of death’s coarse voice lulling him to sleep.” Helénē frowns, but doesn’t argue the point further. Xavier was not the type of man to change his mind often.

Soon enough, however, they arrived at the gates of the keep. The two guards looked them over, one with suspicion, the other with appreciation. ”Welcome brothers and sisters!” The appreciative one stated as Xavier shook his head. ”We are not. We have not been for ages.” The guard’s eyebrows cross with confusion. ”My half-sister is Liverian. My uncle is Liverian. I have Liverian blood in me, and most Liverians have Renaltan blood in them. We are cut from the same cloth and share much of the same history--” The suspicious guard glares at the other guard, shooting him down and then looking back to Xavier. He bows his head respectfully. ”I apologize. He was simply excited to see the royalty that some of his family reveres.” Princess Helénē walks over to the appreciative guard and gently places her hand on his shoulder, causing him to blush brightly. ”It’s okay, I humbly accept your welcome, and hope you can join us later in the ball room.”

The two guards look at each other and nod, the appreciative one fumbles over his next words as he motions them inside. ”Th-The Queens await thee most graciously, princess Helénē... And, th-thank you.” As Xavier and Helénē enter the ball room, the crown-prince scowled looking at his daughter. ”So long as Renalta welcomes outside dangers, they will never be like us.” Helénē looks up at her father, a sympathetic if disagreeing look in her eyes. ”...They are exactly like us, they just aren’t afraid of the dark anymore, father.” Before the two could debate any further, they reached the sight of Kouri and the Imperium’s Empress, walking towards them.

”Welcome, Xavier.” Queen Kouri says with a hint of reservation. ”That is Crown-Prince to you, my... Queen.” Xavier replies as Helénē quietly laughs nervously. ”... Ah... How about we simply focus on--” Mila steps in front of Helénē and motions her back. This was something the two had to resolve now, before there were more nations there to observe the squabbling. Queen Alexandria joins the discussion as she quickly moves to her wife’s side, glaring at Xavier. ”Ah. So you did manage to join us.” He clasps his hands behind his back and raises his shoulders proudly, without a hint of shame. ”Arrive, yes, I did manage this. Across all those grasslands. How challenging. ‘Tis a good thing you were not travelling with us, there were so many trees, why, we would have taken many weeks to reach this... Place.” Alex growls, but Kouri grasps Alex’s hand softly and calms her. Seeing Xavier’s eyebrow raise, she smiled softly. ”Why yes, if we were travelling with you, there would have been many stops in the various towns and farmsteads to visit the people, and to have comfortable places to rest that aren’t made out of stone blocks, dirt, or otherwise... In Liveria I know however it is different, and I would not complain about the accommodations provided to me freely by another... Nor would I insinuate any potentially disagreeable habits or behaviours from their wife, why, that would only display immaturity and lacklustre social graces, something one should expect from... A vagabond, not a member of the nobility... Wouldn’t you say so, Xavier?”

The crown-prince bites his lip, and then narrows his eyes. ”Perhaps... Where are your touted children, anyway? I wanted to meet them.” He says with a hard if somewhat caring look in his eyes. Kouri shakes her head. ”They are elsewhere. They will not be joining us for the ball. Seeing how there will be many different... Cultures, people... With possible sensitive feelings, we felt it best to avoid any potential... Complications.” Xavier wrings his wrists behind his back, displaying uncertainty as to how to properly proceed. ”And to protect them, no doubt, from some of the more... Extreme, foreigners.” Kouri sighs and nods, not seeing any way around answering the question correctly without lying to him. ”Yes. To a certain extent.” After a brief silence, Xavier nods to Alexandria respectfully. ”You have my apologies... It is just hard to accept sometimes that you came to be with the woman I had hoped to wed and protect from danger.” Kouri interjects before Alexandria has the chance, a disappointed look is in her eyes. ”I need not your protection, nor your love... I need your friendship.” Xavier’s hard look doesn’t leave him as he stares Kouri eye to eye. ”...We will see if that is possible, my Queen.” He then turns and leaves the Queens alone.

Helénē, on the other hand, quickly zips past Mila and up to Kouri. Looking up to her, she smiles, blushes mildly, and then her smile grows into a most exuberant grin of childish excitement and wonder. ”Queen Kouri!... The real one!” Kouri’s look turned to confusion as she looked at Helénē’s star-filled eyes. ”...Yes... I am Kouri. The one and only, though many illusionists think themselves clever to try and disguise themselves as me.” The princess almost seems to explode with energy as she grabs Kouri’s hand and shakes it rapidly. ”Hi I’m Helénē and I always wanted to meet you because I read the legends about you when I was little and learned magic too because of you and also because you are COMPLETELY AMAZING and strong and intelligent and I always wanted to meet you did I mention that because--” As she runs out of breath and takes a deep breath to continue Kouri grasps her small shoulders and squeezes them softly. ”Relax!... Calm down, we have time before the next delegation arrives. You can ask me as many questions as you want. Lets just walk over here...”

---

The Goblin Holds: Introduction

---

((Note: Collaborative work between Brovo and Kadaeux.))

The Goblin Holds had managed to edge out just ahead of the Free Holds, almost as though they were intentionally delayed by repeated sandstorms. Nonetheless, several hundred goblins and orcs, and a few humans and elves, dotted the large travelling group as they entered the city of Renalta. One couldn't help but marvel at the sight of so many different peoples standing and riding side by side, and though not quite as wealthy as the free holds, there could almost be considered a similar sense of brotherhood and camaraderie among them as there was amongst the Rheinfelders. Still, they had their fair share of wealth, with elephants, scorpions, and camels.

The lead general of the Emperor's armies, Nash Skullbringer. He grinned as his skull shaped pieces of armour here and there gathered more than a few looks from the guardsmen... As did the bleached white skulls of the slavers on his staff, which was otherwise little more than an over-glorified stick. "If only we could have shown them the Asimov Worm you keep as a pet." He grunts as he looks at Emperor Xixis' scorpion, which chitters and clicks its pincers together. It was young, but eager enough, a child of the original scorpion which had carried Xixis as it, too, now served Xixis. "So. I'm assuming those random dust storms behind us which unfortunately slowed the Free Holds caravan to a crawl had nothing to do with you?"

Xixis grinned as he looked at his general from the side of his eyes. "I cannot imagine what you could possibly be insinuating old friend, why would I possibly have held up a bunch of slaving scum and ensure it'd take a good month to remove the sand from their trousers." Xixis winked. "I also definitely did not enchant a batch of sand to magically find its way back into the pants of the freeholds representatives every day. Nosiree." The procession was magnificent, from the Goblin Scorpion riders to the orcs and human Mameluke cavalry. He sighed. It would have been magnificent to show Queen Kouri his tamed Aasimov Worm. Tell a few tales about the time they fought an angel while fighting one off too...

Nash makes a few motions through the air with his hand as a few human children spectate and follow around him. They were almost more amazed by his dire wolf than they were by him. Little purple sprites flew from the orc's hand, flying back off to the crowd as the children pursued them. Shaking his head he looked ahead and spotted the palace, in all of its grandeur. Tall, brilliantly constructed architecture. With his talents he immediately knew and appreciated the work the Mage's Guild had in contributing to this marvel of engineering, several floors tall, and yet, it could withstand blows from any cannon, catapult, and trebuchet and shrug it off. "These Queens are old friends of yours, yes? Well... They certainly know how to pick their designers." He then pauses for a moment in speech. "... Queens." A slight curl reaches his lips, with mixed feelings at the notion. "I am looking forward to meeting the lycanthrope."

"Aye, I helped them in their quest to banish the gods, the reward was well worth the cost." Xixis went silent for a moment remembering Zex and Xez. The Madheart Clan had been saddened at the loss of the two slave-bodyguards and had offered the next set of twins born to be raised and take the same place but Xixis had refused. "They know what they're doing indeed." Xixis continued. "I remember one time when the Queens were... 'keeping each other company', Zex thought they were wrestling when he went past their window to the room of the inn we were staying in, poor little git left some copper coins for the winner."

Nash burst out into laughter the moment he heard it, a loud, almost bestial kind, that was feverish amongst the few orcs nearby. They all had a unique kinship, even closer than that they had with the goblins, humans, and elves. The kind where when one grew energetic, so too did the rest. "Good!" He stated with excitement in his voice. "Then they know how to live, being so energetic as to make that 'git' think them to be fighting!" He pats his wolf who howls, joined by all the others in the caravan as one, loud howl of unison the whole city could hear. Finally he settled enough that, as the other orcs continued to banter and cheer with their goblin compatriots, he settled his wolf closer to the scorpion. The wolf whined, not being comfortable near a natural, instinctive enemy, only to be scratched behind the ears. "Hush Mishna..." His red eyes look to Xixis as his tone grows quieter. "Good news, and bad... Those two you asked me to look out for... Sarah, and Amanda... Scouts reported Sarah's activity nearby, she will likely be at the Ball, hidden, or in disguise. Amanda, on the other hand, is brazen enough to simply waltz about there... Watch your book, old friend. She still wants to get her hands on it."

Xixis's own good cheer evaporated slightly at the news. Sarah he liked, Amanda he rather did not. "Foul witch wanting to take that which she has no rightful claim to. The ancient power of the Madheart Clan is not meant for creatures like her." He almost snarled the response but managed to reign it in and keep his emotions in check. Xixis kept the book on him always. But Amanda was not a creature to respect personal boundaries. "Keep close watch for her my friend when she shows herself. I don't want her anywhere near me, and politics be damned where she is concerned."

Xixis took a handful of gold coins and created small sand wings for each of them and sent them fluttering around a bunch of poor looking children.

While there were not many in the kingdom of endless work and community, those few that were there happily took them and cheered Xixis' name before dashing back into the crowds, likely to share their 'spoils' with their families. With a simple and curt nod, Nash allows his wolf to go back to its comfortable position, a few feet further away from the scorpion.

As they arrived at the gates, the guards looked mildly exhausted from all those who had come before. Yet, they snapped to attention nonetheless, and saluted the pair. "Goblin Holds, correct?" Nash blinks. "We are green, and not in chains... I would say so." He growled lowly at the pair, then chuckled as they attempted feebly to hide being intimidated by the large orc. "We have been given specific orders. Queen Alexandria is allowing Xixis to bring in his scorpion, as per request submitted to us. Your wolf however must stay outside. There are stables nearby, we have made appropriate arrangements." Nash grunts and dismounts, patting Misha's fur, she whimpers, then departs from her comrade's side. He then looks to Xixis. "Shall we?"

Xixis nodded amused by the General's games with the guards. "We shall." He said with a chuckle. He turned to the guards. "The procession following us may be slightly unhappy friend. Let them know that they're more than welcome to have a sand bath to feel just that little bit more at home." Xixis said feigning concern and helpfulness to conceal a large dollop of spitefulness. "They get a bit antsy without one every few miles or so."

The guards roll their eyes and look at each other, shaking their heads. "Yeah, yeah." Just as they were about to open the doors, out from the shadows of the keep slipped a cloaked figure, though distinctly feminine. Just by her presence Nash felt unsettled, but Xixis, inherently knew who it was. She takes a position between Nash and Xixis, thick brown robes covering her head to toe, and preventing an inch of skin from being seen. "... This an old friend, I'm guessing?" One of the guards asks.

"No no, it's a sentient flying robe come to kill us all." Xixis said deadpan to the guard while winking at Sarah. "It's good to see you again old friend, I trust you've been well?"

The figure nods and slips him a note. Written in perfect Goblinoid, it confirmed her identity, as there were very few humans who could even speak it or write it, leave alone perfectly. "Well... Alright then." The guards open the large doors to allow the trio passage, along with a few elite goblin and orc guards who accompanied them. Nash grinned as he stepped forth, being greeted to the sights and sounds of Livarians in their dark and shadowy ways, Imperials all remaining closely knit as if forever trapped in formation, Rheinfelders in a mixture of shining armour and blue ribboned Republicans, and of course Renaltans, who were of all various shapes and sizes. It was a remarkable sized hall, and Nash turned slowly, taking in the sights of it. Sometimes he forgot his station, much to the chagrin of some of the others there. He then spots amongst the Imperium's crowd a Lich, who had a blank expression as she stared at him and nodded. Strangely, she had human flesh. "... Powerful." He remarks as the Lich looks back at him. "... Cunning." She replies in her ethereal voice, her lips unmoving.

Kouri and Alex stood by their thrones, though Alex seemed to be slowly getting agitated with repeatedly being interrupted in the middle of whatever conversation she was in every time someone arrived. Still, she took it in stride.

Xixis nodded as those nobles who deigned to notice him as his scorpion skittered over the floor towards the thrones. "Kouri, Alex." He bowed slightly in respect. "Such pomp must certainly be putting the metaphorical sand in your pants Alex." He winked at her.

Kouri shakes her head at the comment and smiles. "Haven't changed at all, have you." She then looks at the cloaked figure and narrows her eyes. It took her a moment, but the look she had confirmed that she knew who it was. "You keep dangerous company." She says softly as the crowd around quiets down, sensing tension, and something else.

"King Madheart." The all too familiar, spine chillingly feminine voice came from the crowd assembled there as Amanda stepped out, fully covered in robes, staff in hand. Nash steps in her way and growls lowly. "You realize the artifact you carry is unknown even to us... It is dangerous to take it with you here."

"You realise I care not whether it's unknown to you or not. It is known to me and has been known to my clan for untold lengths of time before it was stolen. So, if I may be impolite for a moment, go away." Xixis said without any trace of diplomacy. "I'm not about to allow you to steal the inheritance of Clan Madheart."

"It would not be stealing." Amanda says with a sigh. "I would return it to you when I had thoroughly finished studying it... Besides, let us be honest, if I wished not for diplomacy, I would be more than enough even for you." Kouri looks at Amanda with an icy glare, very uncharacteristic of her usually tranquil and kind nature. "This is neutral territory, back off Amanda. I'm asking you both as a friend and as the Queen of this nation in which your Guild calls home." Amanda then looks at the figure in the middle, who had turned to stare at Amanda. There was a bit of a pause before Amanda stated something in a language that nobody in the room recognized, though it didn't sound particularly polite or meant for the ears of children.

The figure chuckles, and pulls back her hood, revealing herself: Sarah Darkhammer. Even those who hadn't met her knew her description well enough to know who she was, and at that, half the room immediately loathed her, the other half, intrigued. "Yes, it's me, old friend... Try to be polite. These Queens are a good enough lot." Amanda sighs, and backs off, away from Nash, who finally lowered his staff. "Just for you," Amanda says while she looks at Kouri, not Sarah. "And, please..." She then looks at Xixis. "Do at least consider... That I would be willing to study it at your home, now that I have the portable tools, and don't have to take it to the Guild."

"I think not." Xixis said plainly. "The only other people in this room I’d trust to touch let alone read the book is sitting on that throne, or just making her dramatic entrance." The extreme distaste he held for Amanda spilling through in his tone. "Though I am fairly sure Kouri can't read the tongue its written in." He chuckles.

Kouri takes a glance at the tome. "I could figure it out, I think, given enough time." As the ball room starts to relax, she does her best attempt to speak in Goblinoid. "You kind, language, hard. Syntax." It was messy and hard to understand, but the attempt was admirable enough. Nash nods to Xixis and remains close to him, but seems to admire the lycanthrope more now that he could see her than before when he could only imagine what she looked like.

Xixis winced at the mangled goblinoid. "Admirable attempt for a human milady, but next time you visit the Goblin Holds I'll be happy to help you speak the 'uncivilised' tongue a little more proficiently." He offered with some polite humility. Not even the lowliest Goblin would mistake their tongue for a civilised one.

Kouri bows her head politely to the King, though she still knew him as a travelling compatriot. "I would be honoured to learn more about your people." She then approaches Xixis and motions to move towards one side of the room. "Now, shall we catch up before the Free Holds arrive?" She says softly.

"Most certainly." He says with a smile before flicking a copper coin at Alex. "Memories of less troubled times." He grins slightly sadly.

Robin Williams is dead at 63.

genghismike said
unfortunate as it is, life is for the living.The man left behind a legacy.It would be good for us to learn for it, not dwell upon his loss.Remember those for how they live, not for how they die.

Carpe Diem.

Robin Williams is dead at 63.

Wayne said
My family just recently decided that after 6 years of constantly being on different medications and all of them only complicating things, I'm going to go medication-free. Hence why this really struck me hard, because I struggle with depression. As a lot of people do.Sometimes people manage their depression, and other times... shit like this happens. Fuck... I don't know. Knowing that someone this beloved and successful would take their own life. It really hits me hard, right into the deepest parts of my soul.I don't know what else to say. I've got nothing else to say. There is nothing else to say.

This man struggled with depression, cocaine and alcohol addictions, and more. He lived to be over 60 years old. 60. That's a pretty solid run for a human. And you know what he did in those 60 years? Inspired millions, touched the hearts of children everywhere and made people laugh. He struggled with some of the toughest shit a human being can experience, and survived sixty years of it. All the while making untold numbers of people laugh, smile, cry, and feel inspired. Inspired to make others laugh and smile and feel.

This fellow spread the gift of fire that Prometheus, God, Evolution, or whatever it is you believe to many people. While enduring torture for 60 years. This guy accomplished more in 60 years than ten people do in 100. Each.

Despite his death, nothing will defeat his accomplishments. Nothing will remove his films, or the positive memories you have of him. And if that goofball ex-cocaine addict could manage all that he did, so can you, and your family will have your back through it all. And so will Robin's shadow in all the things he left behind, for everyone.

So take that to heart at least. Yeah, he is dead. And you know what? Lived past 60 and did really awesome shit with his life. In my mind, he made it. You will too. It'll be hard, sure, ain't nobody meaningful gonna deny that. But you can. That's all that matters.

And that's that I suppose. Buck up my fellow unstable fellow, you will make it. So will I. And if you fall down, don't worry, we all do, many times. Just get back up. As best you can.

The Library

@Everyone: Posting soon™. Likely later this week, but figured I'd let everyone know I'm still alive and all that jazz.

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

@Jorick: If a one liner is all you can muster, do it.

@Everyone: Also, just passing this along, I'm working two days this week, "vacation" time I'm spending at home and what not. Expect TLB post later this week! :D

Legend of Renalta 2: Reborn

@Everyone: Haven't read new posts in OOC, just giving a quick update before I have to run out the door here. I have two days of work this week, then vacation time. Prepare for a giant ball post soon full of intros and information.



Twelve thousand eight hundred and eight words, and counting...