Dezuel

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Reverion

There were a stirring. A twirl in the beyond, an orb of liquid black was taking form, growing and then warping it's appearance, jagged large bonelike pieces sticking out of it and then... skin... feathers of darkest black. A pair of glowing eyes flared open, hidden peeking out from behind the large wall of feathers that almost seem to make a ball, it's eyes wandered as if searching for something. Someone. There was something beckoning him forth, but who or what was it? Who or what were he himself? He existed, of that there were no doubt.

His white pupils gazed into the direction of the scroll, the Khodex.

"Who dares? What dares to call me forth? You beckon, this I do reckon. These eyes of mine sear ye, my wings of pitched black... hear me!"

With a scream the figure's blackened wings parted from it's folded state and revealed his full form rising to stand on two legs.

"My emergence from the dwelling cold, the path to my design it will fold. Revere me, fear me. I am Reverion. I am, that I know. Thus you will and also shall be. Let us walk together in the place between..." Reverion mused softly, his taloned hand reaching out for the scroll.

"I shall carve you, like the path ahead. Let your core carry my creed, let my power be the sowed seed. All that has come, and shall forever come. Find yourself worthy and become akin to me."

He added his desire and power to the scroll.

Summary

Reverion wakes up from nothingness and finds himself to be existing, and gives himself the name Reverion while at the same time being dramatic. He has a (evil?) monologue with the Khodex of his intentions of making other things akin to himself. Therefor he adds his aid in the creation of the universe and as a little extra spicing adds undeath as a thing that exist, a reward to those who may strive to exist as he does. Becoming 'gods' themselves, in that they will no longer live or die from old age. Does not exclude having to pay tax in the future.

MP

All 4 to help create the universe and also make undeath a possibility, it is a state inbetween life and death, set into place by Reverion. The state of undeath may wary from case to case basis and just how much power went into it. It does not exist naturally in the world, but has it's origin in his divine essence.

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Reverion

Lord of Re-Emergence, Lord of second chances, Gravengeance, Rightious Revenant, God of Neverdust, Talon Justice, Master of Vandead, Corvus Corpus, God of thralls (Name used by non-faithful),

Domain
Undeath

Description

Reverion holds domain over undeath, which has earnt him the ire of many other gods, for he seeks to whisk away the souls of the dead to his own embrace to let them be born anew in an undead form. However they must be willing to be reborn, or he may not grant it. In very, very rare circumstances he would make someone get to unlife in this manner to teach them a lesson or because they do not realize their importance yet. He would despise seeing powerful beings of high morals to simply pass into the afterlife, seeing them as not only a shining examples but also as a potential soldier in his army of the undying.

An army which may someday be used to topple the godly pantheon of it's hypocrytes, as far as he is concerned. He seeks to bestow his gift upon those who have undone quests, those who crave for revenge upon having been murdered or wronged, or simply those which which to serve their respective masters for an extended period of time.

The gift of undeath must be offered and taken, not forced upon anyone. A god who values personal integrity and being masters of their own will. He advocates moderation of knowledge, for some knowledge may be too much for minds to comprehend. Moderation and self-maintenence is the pathway to the greater understanding as far as he is concerned. The focus must never be swayed by promise of an easier pathway.

Reverion believes life should not be taken lightly, as when life ends, there is always a slimmer of a chance that a servant of, or God of Neverdust forbid, Voi or Szukaj-życia will -steal- the soul before it could be delivered to the Lord of Re-Emergence's gentle taloned hand.

Appearance

Description

Reverion has a calm demeanor, every word uttered by him is chosen carefully, many times his words bear more meanings than one aswell. He despises unnecessary cruelty and injustice, he harbors strong feelings for vengeance and revenge. His ultimate goal is to become the overgod of the pantheon.

When called to battle, Reverion wields what can only be described as a sword-staff, the blade as long as the staff section. It's name being the Unmaker. He fights using acrobatic manuevers and flight using his black birdlike wings, his clawed talon-like fingers and feet being used as secondary weapons. He relies more on quickness and verbal play to wound his foes. He is lean in figure, built like an acrobat and he is as tall as about an average human but with pointed ears. He is adorned by feathers, tribal looking tattooes and his eyes are glowing fiercely with a white pupil in the middle, so when his gaze does land on you, you truly cannot mistake his nature.

Musical Theme

Harp!

youtube.com/watch?v=kAFKsdb27yQ

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Reverion

Lord of Re-Emergence, Lord of second chances, Gravengeance, Rightious Revenant, God of Neverdust, Talon Justice, Master of Vandead, Corvus Corpus, God of thralls (Name used by non-faithful),

Domain
Undeath

Description

Reverion holds domain over undeath, which has earnt him the ire of many other gods, for he seeks to whisk away the souls of the dead to his own embrace to let them be born anew in an undead form. However they must be willing to be reborn, or he may not grant it. In very, very rare circumstances he would make someone get to unlife in this manner to teach them a lesson or because they do not realize their importance yet. He would despise seeing powerful beings of high morals to simply pass into the afterlife, seeing them as not only a shining examples but also as a potential soldier in his army of the undying.

An army which may someday be used to topple the godly pantheon of it's hypocrytes, as far as he is concerned. He seeks to bestow his gift upon those who have undone quests, those who crave for revenge upon having been murdered or wronged, or simply those which which to serve their respective masters for an extended period of time.

The gift of undeath must be offered and taken, not forced upon anyone. A god who values personal integrity and being masters of their own will. He advocates moderation of knowledge, for some knowledge may be too much for minds to comprehend. Moderation and self-maintenence is the pathway to the greater understanding as far as he is concerned. The focus must never be swayed by promise of an easier pathway.

Reverion believes life should not be taken lightly, as when life ends, there is always a slimmer of a chance that a servant of, or God of Neverdust forbid, Voi or Szukaj-życia will -steal- the soul before it could be delivered to the Lord of Re-Emergence's gentle taloned hand.

Appearance

Description

Reverion has a calm demeanor, every word uttered by him is chosen carefully, many times his words bear more meanings than one aswell. He despises unnecessary cruelty and injustice, he harbors strong feelings for vengeance and revenge. His ultimate goal is to become the overgod of the pantheon.

When called to battle, Reverion wields what can only be described as a sword-staff, the blade as long as the staff section. It's name being the Unmaker. He fights using acrobatic manuevers and flight using his black birdlike wings, his clawed talon-like fingers and feet being used as secondary weapons. He relies more on quickness and verbal play to wound his foes. He is lean in figure, built like an acrobat and he is as tall as about an average human but with pointed ears. He is adorned by feathers, tribal looking tattooes and his eyes are glowing fiercely with a white pupil in the middle, so when his gaze does land on you, you truly cannot mistake his nature.

Musical Theme

Harp!

youtube.com/watch?v=kAFKsdb27yQ

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

Reverio

He had felt something, something warm and soft, and a familiar voice. It wasn't an unpleasant voice, but why did it fill him with the sense of impending doom. Then words came back to him, as echoes in his head.

'Trickery? Thieving minou? The relic of Albion...' Reverio's eyes flashed open and he sat up in shock, his eyes opening wide. He gasped and panted to himself.

What had happened? Then he came to the realization.

'Ken... tricked me... my sword my sword is gone. Lyngurium Lie! She has the swords!' His eyes shimmered as he came to the realization, that the worst possible scenario had come to pass. He had not only lost an ally, he had been deceived, and now the enemy of the entire world had likely two out of three keys needed to open the door which was his to open.

'This is your fault Ken! YOU BETRAYED MY TRUST!' He clenched his hands into fists to the point that his nails would make his hands bleed slightly, his teeth grinding together. His anger was however suddenly quenched, when he realized... where the hell were he? There was a pleasant fragnance in the air, but why did it cause his brain and body to scramble, like a duckling having walked into the fox den. He was in a wide bed? Wait. He knew this decoration, this scent. It was usually accompanied by... his thought pattern was interupted by spotting a bump on the bed just close to where he was lying. He instinctively reached out to lift the blanket.

A sweatdrop sliding down his cheek, there was no way that-

"Huh?" He said unknowingly aloud. Reverio screamed out loud upon removing the blanket, causing nearby birds outside the mansion to fly away from their branches upon the trees.

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

Lynnwell and ???

Lynnwell ignored the voice of a greenhaired young man on her way down an alleyway, briefly throwing a glance to the TV screen of a nearby shop. Spotting a picture of a criminal. Or so the Rhean news would label it. This was however a familiar face to her, a minor shock even.

"Shal-Akkun..." Her clawed hand reached her chin as she walked in thoughts.

'To think thee would be born anew. Such cruel irony, thee who spoke so dearly about life being a one time occurance. Thee were wrong about me and thyself aswell. I wonder, were thine life as void as mine hast become? Nay matter how fair a song is, time shalt undo it, just like mine home.' The pinkhaired girl threw a glance to the sky, it was the only thing which looked the same as it did... those many years ago.

'Oh Laurel... where art thee now?' She took out the small portrait she had relieved from his school and looked it over, her clawed hand feeling the form of the face drawn upon it. She then was about to turn a corner when someone bumped into her, the portrait fell out of her clawed fingers and ended up into the hands of whomever she had collided with. Her feline looking eyes looked slightly up at who had the misfortune of meeting her and laying hands on her memorophilia.

"Give it back." Lynnwell said as her eyes set at a pair of orange eyes, slightly obscured by green-yellowish hair. It was a young man clad in what could only be described to be a military attire. Was it a member of the Rhean authorities? She doubted it. He looked young.

"Hmph. You should watch where you are going girl. Also I do not appreciate such a rude tone... show some manners." The young man spoke out, he reached out and looked at the portrait he just caught. It wasn't anyone he knew. Lynnwell's eyes wandered over the young man and then to the portrait.

"It is thee whom shalt show respect to thine elders, which are wiser and stronger than thou art." Lynnwell's eyes slightly narrowed as she took a step forwards with her hand outstretched for the portrait, waiting for it to be handed over.

"Tch. Quite the nerve on you girl. You look younger than me. If you were anyone important, I would know your name. I'll give you this stupid portrait back, but you will appologize and show some manners. So let's hear it." Orpheuz placed one of his hands at his waist as he waited to hear an appology.

"Looks may be deceiving, wight. This grimalkin hast bore many names, if thee art as knowledgeable as thee claim... child. Then have thee ever heard of Lyngurium Lie?" Lynnwell's pose seemed to change as if she was analyzing the young man in front of her, she assumed a pose which was...dominant? Like a king posing for a portrait.

"What did you call me? The name is.. Orpheuz. You do well to remember it. Your manners are lacking. Hmph." Orpheuz snorted but his mind wandered, where had he heard that name before? Lyngurium Lie? Was it something he had read about? He couldn't quite place it. Was this person in front of him someone famous perhaps? An author of a book or something?

'This girl is strange. Her pose has changed... she looks relaxed... in control. I do not like it.' Orpheuz eyes felt like narrowing, but he decided to hold back his immediate thoughts.

"I do not know of this Lyngurium Lie. Care to enlighten me girl? And what's with the old-man tongue?" He said with an almost taunting tone.

"A saviour o' tribes, a warrior beside a saint, a foe to the friend of Rhea. That thee know not of me, proves mine former words true. Thee art but a child toying with flame, careful lest it shalt burn thee." Lynnwell said softly, but there was no doubt about it, there were weights behind her words.

"You continue trying to insult me girl. I do not enjoy picking a fight with a girl, but you look like you are begging for a fight. Careful so you don't get into too deep waters cat-girl, you might drown." Orpheuz raised his free hand up and began to conjure a stream of pitch black water, allowing it to form a vortex of spinning water in his hand.

"Like thee can bend water to thy will, I can break thine will with mine. Hand over the portrait now, meager wight. I will ask no more time." Lynnwell held out her clawed hand more urgently, having seemingly grown tired of speaking with the young man.

"Cocky. I wonder how long you can keep up that cool... appologize or I will have to teach you about respect." Orpheuz clarified, his hand outstretched in a hostile manner. Lynnwell quickly lunged forwards, her clawed fist connecting with the young man's chest, sending him hurling through the air for a couple of metres, before the young man would seemingly blink out of existance only to reappear further away clutching his chest.

"Unff! You underhanded scoundrel! How dare you strike me!" Orpheuz gritted his teeth in pain but more so irritation, not at having been punched by this random girl. But how he had been unable to see her fist, she was fast. She was on par with both the fire users of his past, perhaps even faster? Had this girl somehow replaced them in this world? He wasn't sure but there was something he had to establish no matter what. The pecking order. Lynnwell looked over at Orpheuz, her pose changing to a defensive one, her both clawed hands raised in readyness.

"Take this!" Orpheuz created another vortex in his hand before three circular pressurised sawblades of water wouuld hurl through the air towards Lynnwell. The girl quickly sidestepped the first one, then hurled up into the air to avoid the second one, then dodging the third by pressing her legs against the nearby wall, hurling her body diagonally forwards.

'What?!' Orpheuz held out his hand to channel the remaining water in the vortex into a whirlwind funnel of water aimed for the incoming catgirl. It landed on her, wrapping her into the thrashing waters.

"Hah! Caught you little cat. How does it feel being so wet behind the ears? Caught up in a magical washing machine..." Orpheuz smirked, this was what was needed to teach the girl some manners. Or so he thought. A few steps could be heard as he witnessed the feline looking girl simply step through the water, struggling but managing to push through it.

'She can resist the pull of my water powers? Tch. No matter. Everything freezes.' Orpheuz pulled the water baqck abit to wrap around Lynnwell again before turning it all into ice. Pitch black ice. "You left me no choice. That look suits you. Stay in there for abit to cool off won't you?" Orpheuz put one of his hands confidently at his waist. Then there was a loud cracking sound, followed by a ray of light before the ice shattered into thousands of pieces, and out of the ice came the feline girl flying into the air like a burning comet, coming right at him.

"Tch!" Orpheuz quickly teleported himself up into the air and midway falling he began to gather his watery powers again to shoot two jets of water towards Lynnwell who dodged both of them in the air, coming close enough to give Orpheuz a kick into the chest, sending him hurling through the air into a nearby alleyway with trashcans.

"Thou art not his equal." The pinkhaired girl blew some air through her nose as she turned to pick up the portrait, looking at it with a content look.

"It's not over you nonamer! I didn't traverse through the worlds to bicker with a feline bitch." Orpheuz called out from behind her, having gotten out of the other alleyway, a strip of blood coming from his mouth.

"Dost thee see thyself as Laurel? As his equal?" Lynnwell asked aloud, curious what the arrogant young man would answer, not that any answer would truly matter to her.

"That arrogant tone again! I don't care for your prattle about a long dead founder, the future is where Rhea lies. Not the past! Judging by your choice in words you might not be part of it for long."

"Thou which know not history art doomed to repeat it anew, folly child." Lynnwell said aloud, her eyes staring coldly at Orpheuz at a distance.

"Hmph. You mistake me for other STUPID people. You should be taught a lesson, but I have more pressing matters at hand. Perhaps you might even be able to play a part in things to come, once you learn to show some manners." Orpheuz spit his words out, clearly irritated.

"Thee think thyself a seer? A young wight who think he knows it all. I pity such folly." Lynnwell turned around to walk away with her portrait in hand.

'Insolent furry. No matter, not even using force would likely work on this thickheaded girl. I have more pressing matters at hand either way, but this girl... she had speed and strength. If only she would have some idea of respect she could have been a suitable ally. What a shame.' Orpheuz spit some blood to the side and wiped his mouth with his jacket, his eyes almost burning with ambition and anger.

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

Alrune

"How goes the reprogramming? I want results soon. Despite my vast patience, I am beginning to think you are stalling on purpose." The blue-green haired woman said to her underling.

"No ma'am! It's just that we want to make sure that the subject will not relapse." The underling quickly replied and showed a notepad with statistics and brainwave patterns.

"It is not a long term investment, it's a tool meant to be used and later discarded once it has served it's uses. Now sedate and gear it up. I want it fully functional upon my return while the memory of what has happened to my husband remain in everyone's hearts..." The woman smirked and then turned around and began to walk to her news conference. The Rhean TV-channels would broadcast news of a murder in the city, and a few blurry images of the suspects taken from the vehicles. Not enough to identify them however. But Alrune's picture is put on the news.

"We appologize for interupting our current broadcast..." The news anchor began, then began spitting details of the area of the murder and who the victim were. Including pictures of said doctor.

"The victim is Dr Jargan Plagerzes, who is known throughout Rhea for his breakthroughs in technology and scientific studies. He was also a council member of the Old Faith Collective, a group who worship humankinds achievements without paying tribute to any of the gods. The good doctor was assassinated when a group of gifted broke into a rented locale of the former. One person has been apprehended suspected of partaking in the crime. It is currently unknown what the motive of the killing is, but with us today is Dr Plagerzes wife." The anchor would explain and motion to her side. A blue-green haired woman all dressed in black would dry her eyes with a napkin.

"Mrs Plagerzes, we appreciate that you are with us here today, we understand this must be a very hard thing to do and incredibly emotional. But you are welcome, please can you tell us anything about your husband?" The news anchor offered her condolences.

"Thank you." Mrs Plagerzes said as she then began to spin a dramatic and emotionally sounding tale of what a great man her husband were, and that she suspects his killers may have been individuals gifted by the gods. Likely a hate crime.

Some time later...

In the hidden facility.

"How was my performance? The stage is set for the next act. Go ahead, send in the lowlife we captured several weeks ago into the containment field. He is useless to us. I want to see my new toy get to work." Mrs Plagerzes took hold of her wine glass and curled her purple lipsticked lips.

"Yes ma'am! Sending in test subject 993. What shall we call the new boy? 994?" The male underling asked as he stood by the controls overlooking the magical proof consoles and windows into what almost looked like an arena.

"He is not a boy. He is a monster. A disgusting little monster which shall do something for us. I know the perfect name... let's drag the prime example of everything wrong with Rhea into view. His name is now Laurel. He should be honored to serve such a noble goal despite the illness in him." Mrs Plagerzes grinned widely in a sadistic manner, motioning for the underling to open the other hatch to let Alrune... no... Laurel into the room." The large arena had many speakers covered over it, which Mrs Plagerzes would use to speak to those into the arena.

"Welcome to judgement day, little criminal." She addressed subject 993 who seemed to be a young man around the age of 18, he immediately began to attempt to throw fireballs at the windows to no effect.

"Such a lack of respect for your betters insignificant thing. This man is a criminal to the Rhea, he deserves to be punished by death. Eliminate him and repent. Laurel~." Mrs Plagerzes said the last line with such pleasure it almost could be mistaken that she was having the best cake in the world. Alrune opened his eyes, his outfit seemed to be a tight fitting black attire with armor at a few select places, there were a pair of visors attached to what could only be described as a big headband which also enclosed his own ears slightly. He could hear the voices into the headphones.

"Destroy the target. Eliminate. Repent." It was a monotone robotic voice in his head. He looked down on his hands, where were he? Who were he? Who was the person in front of him? He tried hard to think, but it was painful. The headset would give off a little shock when he tried. Alrune shook his head slightly.

"Who... who am... who are you? Must... kill or be killed..." The boy tightened his hands into fists, he felt empowered. Strong. He liked the feeling. He could hear something which had some familiarity to it. It wasn't voices. It was music. It made his body instinctively move forwards, his head and arms twitched slightly, electric current running through his body. His eyes set on the man ahead of him. When he saw the man, he heard the command in his ears again. This man was a criminal... he had to die. Right? Alrune darted forwards, dodging two incoming fireballs hurled by subject 993. Then with a thundering smash the boy slammed into the man's chest, hurling him into the nearby wall. The surging feeling of power was overwhelming Al's senses, this feeling it felt good. And he felt no pain. He looked at his hands again how his fingers were twitching almost as if he had been fed alot of medication... or something worse. But such thoughts were not reaching his mind now, nothing were but the feeling of power and lust to... kill? Al walked slowly over to the man, placing the tip of his boot under the man's chin, lifting his gaze up to meet Al's gaze through the purple visors.

"You poor thing... I'll help you..." A wide grin began to form on the boy's face as he raised his hand and then used it to stab the man through the heart while giving off a shock of electricity.

Al began to softly chuckle before bursting out into laughter. "Heh...heheh.... ahahahahah! Ahahah! Ahh... red... it's so beautiful... hnn..hnn.. I feel great." The boy reached up his gloved hand to his face, looking at the bloodied fingers as he took a lick. "That's all? You aren't breathing anymore? What a shame.." He threw what remained of the man's body down to the floor.

"Ma'am... this boy... is a..." The underling outside the chamber began to voice his concerns to Mrs Plagerzes.

"He's perfect. For the task. This little monster shall prove once and for all that their ilk are too dangerous and must be euthanised." The woman grinned and then took hold of her microphone.

"Well done Laurel. Mission complete. You have punished the criminal. Soon you will be having more criminals to punish. Remember that all who wield those powers as this one did are an enemy." She smirked and looked into the chamber, a sense of pride at seeing what her people having accomplished.

"Al... Lau... Alaur... Laurel?" The boy pondered briefly on the name. Was this his name? It did sound familiar. It had to be it. "I feel amazing... where is the next one?" He said in a monotone kind of manner and the voice in the headset gave him the answer.

"I will show you." The woman's voice replied.

Elsewhere...

Suzakura

"Ahh shit... Why did Silly Celly had to go all out holy hells crazy like that? Damn is this bone dislocated? Not again. Oh well... at least I have all the gain and no pain!" Suzakura allowed his body to readjust from the fight with Cel, which had ended with a draw in Cel leaving, having better things to do apparently.

"Damn I need a drink. Oh hey!" Suzakura eyed a young man with glasses walking out of a coffee shop with a hot coffe cup. "Thanks buddy! Gotta love free shit!" The greenhaired young man said as he relieved the boy of his drink and took a sip. "Not bad. Catch you later!"

"Hey! That was my coff- Hey!" The boy yelled after him, but it soon became part of the sounds of the city.

On his way down the street he couldn't help but notice a pink haired girl with cat ears passing right in front of him. "Damn. Nice piece of hoochie ass!" He allowed himself a whistle before brushing off his shirt, closing his eyes as he introduced himself.

"Suzakura, single, sharp and strong. How could the choice ever be wrong? Eh? EH?!" He opened his eyes to the sudden realization that the girl he had just seen had vanished as if up into thin air. "That's definitely not cool. Like this coffee. Damn it could use some more sugar or milk. Speaking of which, where is my bestest bovine babe?" He took a sip as he passed past an electronics store, throwing a glance to the TV in the viewing window. It was his father on the screen being advertised as dead.

It was with the speed of a fire hose that the coffee came back up and went into the face of a nerdy looking boy standing next to him.

"Holy hells! Someone fucking killed my dad!" He blinked for a few moments looking at the screen as if trying to cope with the new reality, he realized it was true once he saw his mother on the screen aswell. "Allright!" He tightened his hand into a fist and raised it in a cheering manner. "Someone earnt themselves some serious brownie points for doing my dad in and it wasn't even my mom. Does this mean I am extra orphaned? I gotta find Chinami and talk about it. I wonder how her parents are like. I gotta find out. Where the hell does her.. hey wait a sec? I wonder if Chinaminamnam's got a Chinamidamdam mom..."

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

Reverio Galand

The girl had been strong, too strong. There had been no way to hold on to her as she made her move over towards the barrier which contained the so named Tome of Trium Throne.

'Such strength...'
Reverio thought to himself as he watched Liliya, but he was more concerned with her behaviour, she acted almost like... a golem? That had to be it. 'This girl is another of Darla's servants? She really sent two of them to aid me. I really have to find some way to thank her later.' The blonde nodded to himself before looking at what Liliya was up to, blinking quickly. She had managed to break the barrier?

"Impossible! That crazy bit-" The grimoire under Reverio's arm began to proclaim once it realized that the barrier of the Tome of Trium Throne had been removed. The grimoire would however be muffled as Rev wrapped it into a piece of cloth he carried with him.

"Shhh... do not call the lady such crude things. Wait a moment... can golems have a gender?" He mumbled out loud to himself and the grimoire before looking over at Liliya. "Good work! Tell Darla that I will make it up to her! You go on ahead, I will be with you shortly. To think this tome may hold the key to the greater peace. Oh brother... your sacrifice will not be in vain. I will save this world from it's own people and then at the end, I'll be the last evil to be vanquished. The enemy of everything and everyone, this is my destiny... this has to be it. Never again will the horrors which befell you my dearest of friends happen anew." Reverio spoke to himself as he walked over to the Tome of Trium Throne.

His hand reaching out to take it. "Reveal to me, the path of peace." He took the tome and clutched it closely, he would have to read it, but not here. He had to make it out of here before the library personell and authorities would learn of this breach.

He ran.

The book

THE TOME OF TRIUM THRONE

The tome contains many events of old, of how Saint Laurel and his followers unified the lands which became Rhea.

How many of the tribes which inhabited the land prior were fighting against and alongside Laurel and his followers, it also tells of three people which set out with swords which acted like keys for a great door, which in turn had sealed away an old enemy behind it.

The enemy having been sealed under the Rhean administrative building, and only by bringing in the three swords together could that seal be undone.

One of the bearers headed to Izumo, another to Albion and the last to Vauquelin.

Early in the book is message for whomever would open the book.

"You who have broken the seal. Know that the knowledge contained within this tome must not fall into the wrong hands. Sealed away under the administrative building of my precious Rhea is a great enemy sealed away and must remain in place. The three keybearers of the swords must never be reunited, keep them apart to ensure the safety of Rhea and all neighbouring countries. Do not seek to release the prisoner, do not study the seal, do not pursue this evil for the sake of goodness. It will destroy everything and everyone."

- Shal-Akkun, musician and scribe, City of Rhea.

(The text appears to be at least 200 years old.)

There's an alchemical symbol on the page, depicting what only be described to be the philosopher stone. An alchemical formula how to turn anything into gold. Among other things.

"If you encounter the immortal grimalkin, let her not find all the swords, for she would free her old foe and comerade without a doubt. The Lyngurium Lie was the one who sealed the evil away so long ago, prior to her clash with Laurel, praised be his name. The people need a real hero like Laurel, not an old hero gone villain like the fire lynx. Power can corrupt, but so can a broken heart. It is with a heavy heart that I, Shal-Akkun, musician and scribe of Laurel beg you to not pursue the swords. Lyngurium Lie used to be an ally of Laurel during his youth, but an enemy for the remainder of his life. I knew her feelings, her pain and desires. But those desires would rip Rhea apart and everything we fought for would have been for nothing. She desires an endless battlefield alongside Laurel, she dreams of the old Laurel who she could only walk beside when he was a warrior on the battlefields. Time is changing, but that immortal woman is not. She is still existing in the land which were before Rhea. There's nothing for her here anymore, nothing is the same as it were before. That's why she became the enemy of us all, much like the sealed away prisoner who was once her ally in the lands before Rhea. This is a tragic life she has lived, but it doesn't excuse her actions, therefor by all means do not let her find the swords or where the seal is located now. The land was lush and green once, now it's a city state, she doesn't know where to find it. DO NOT PURSUE RU-" The last part of the page has been torn out.

A depiction of a large door is drawn, with a set of devices in front of it, looks like that's where the swords are supposed to be put.

@Lewascan2

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

[Removed post. Continue as usual.]

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Zeidgram

The pommel of his blade had found it's mark and the blonde man's nose had been initiated, like slamming a bottle of a newly built ship that was ready to set sail for the first time. Much akin to their journey.

The foolish man, if the mage even considered him as such had resorted with some words and tone of voice which potentially marked him as part of nobility, or at least from a family of influence. These things were minor, like a drop of water in the vast seas. Why? Because the man said it himself. Zeidgram didn't know who he were, not like it mattered much. The man had displayed a lack of wits in pointing his weapon at Neve. It was because of pitiful beings such as him that the world were in the state it was in. People overly concerned with material wealth, fawning and pompous pandering each others egos until they would burst open.

No doubt were the blight a result of such arrogance and egos, perhaps the blight was just in striking down against them. Yet at the same time, the blight was unrelenting and didn't discriminate. The world was still beautiful, as long as there were beauty left in it, it was worth fighting for. The red mage dreaded the very thought of being proven wrong, that the world was beyond saving and rotten to the core. In a different world, perhaps he would have brought forth the death of everyone in the world, given the right time and moment. But that was not the world he knew.

"Do you memorize and name every ant you happen to stumble upon while wandering the roads?" The red mage replied back to the blonde man in a hushed tone, almost a whisper. His lips forming an amused and mocking smile.

'This boy is weak in mind and body both. Have abit of anger free of charge, let it fester and bring your own undoing. The limbtaker was right in that at the very least. Only a matter of time before these other groups plunge upon each other like starving wolves, seeking to tear the flesh away from oneanother. May your anger make you stumble at your own fang when such a moment arise.' Zeidgram mused in his own head, before cringing slightly in recoil to Galahad slamming the end of his halberd into the ground and raising his voice.

The red mage allowed his face to assume a blank expression, then he took a deep inhale and let out a sigh. 'Noisy.' He furrowed his eyebrows, but it was a minor inconvinience in comparison to possibly having to deal with these other groups later down the road. Was it up to him, he would poison their water supply before they'd set off. Save them the trouble of having contend with them. Ofcourse a lesser poison which would just render them unable to pursue. The king of Edren, Leonhart had approached and given his own input and attempted to calm down the tension in the air. But all that the red mage heard was what he suspected all along, that the connection between the king and Galahad was strong. Strong enough to know that the dragoon could not be trusted to comply with his plan later down the road. Their interests would clash. Perhaps he could set the limbtaker or the woman which had seemingly sided with the other group against them upon him when such a moment would present itself.

No doubt they wouldn't simply let Galahad have his way and aid in strengthening Edren's position in the world, it would upset the balance. Leonhart had already shown his inability to even keep his own base secure, and the mage knew that in order to have a stable tower, one needed a good base. But even if he considered Leonhart and his family a collection of fools, it might serve better to leave a fool in charge than a more wise and dangerous ruler. According to said king, they were more or less commanded to return to their respective rooms and that he would position more guards over his base, but also providing one of those overgrown meatsticks as a mount, including a wagon and other supplies. The king was eager to send them away, but not to the point of suicidally rushing forth. There was definitely something he knew about the blight which he had not told them about.

Galahad was therefor someone who would have to be dealt with further down the road. Whatever the king had in mind, the dragoon was no doubt in cohoots with it. As if on cue to make matters worse, the limbtaker had spoken up about the lack of a chain of command. She brought forth a valid point, a leader would make things go alot smoother. Potentially. But the red mage's optimism changed into sheer displeasure on hearing her nomination.

Galahad.

Izayoi's reluctance to take the position herself made the red mage ponder as to why a renowned general would simply toss away such a chance, were it because a defeated general had no longer any say? The ability to nominate someone, due to some form of doubt or weariness, was actually a sign of being able to make the right decisions. Therefor it was clear to the red mage, that the samurai was a suitable candidate, despite her seemingly personal matter with Valheim and past events. Yet there were someone else he had in mind that was ideal for the task ahead. He had to put an instant stop to Izayoi's nomination plan no matter what. Even if the dragoon would potentially make some mistake later down the road which could make him seem incapable, it was simply not worth the chance of letting him be in charge of pairings of their group. There were people in the group he had to converse with, and the dragoon was a threat to that. Thus he stepped forwards to almost have a standoff against Galahad.

"I agree with the limbtaker, we've ought to nominate a leader of our entourage. Man or woman, I have no issue following either, but this... Lord? This dragoon? Hmph. Arton, I cannot imagine anyone having anything against you assuming the estreemed role. How about it, will you take such a mantle for the sake of the world?" Zeidgram began to approach Arton as he was about to follow Neve and aid the wounded.

"You'll have my support in such an endeavour, how about it?." The red mage smiled softly while nodding his head to Arton, before hurling a disapproving glance towards Galahad. No matter what happened, Galahad could not be allowed to lead their group. He would ruin everything, there was no doubt in the mage's heart about that. Even the butterslipper was a more viable choice to him. Speaking of said pointy-eared individual. Where did he go? It was something to look into later, for now the mage decided to follow Arton and Neve to aid the wounded. 'I'll mend this broken world. Don't get in my way, you slithering lords of false wealth.'

@Psyker Landshark@Ambra@Ithradine@vietmyke

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Zeidgram

The red mage couldn't wait to be out of the confines of the city, these overly pompous buildings and the artificial lights that decorated the city itself. Out to a more natural view, the streams, the forests, the plains and hills. So it were with slight annoyance that he followed after Arton, who had given chase after Leifur. Still not without tossing glances over his shoulder just to make sure to keep his back secure from Izayoi. He were not worried about Galahad, Neve or even the seemingly clumsy black mage, Aelphis. There had been some injuries in the rooms, and some decided to stay behind because of them or to tend to those which needed aid. At least that were to his knowledge, some military parade dressed woman had also joined them. Had she'd been at their table? Such pondering would have to wait.

As the viera had guided them down various pathways and down some stairwell, the sight of the courtyard was met with a slight grunt from the red mage as he drew his sword again, no longer confined within some stairwell or corridors, he felt more at ease. Outdoors at last, it was a step in the right direction. Still he intended to leave as soon as possible. These men and women which were fighting off the Valheim assailants were a small matter compared to the larger picture. They had come for one reason alone, to deal with the blight. The thing which affected the most amount of people, no matter where they were from or who they were. As the red mage much like the others came face to face with what seemed to be members from the Unicorn group, and in the distance there had been further fighting.

A tall blonde man belonging to the group had thought it fitting to waste their time by begging for healing. Not only that but it seemed he had some lack of manners and were now pointing his weapon at Neve of all people. Manners were something you learnt, and was reserved for those who deserved it. Clearly Neve was deserving of such at the very least.

'What a waste of flesh, a thickheaded bully and his childish demands. We don't have time for this menial waste of brainmatter...' The red mage's eyes narrowed slightly, before he assumed a more calm expression, taking a few steps forwards, walking up close to Neve as he heard Izayoi's voice coming from the back of the other group. And someone else drawing their weapon on her. Not one to waste a good opportunity, it was natural that he would act.

"Let's not get things out of hand! Girl! What are you doing? Tend to the wounded!" Zeidgram spoke out loudly in an angry sounding manner, almost as if he were giving Neve an order as he stepped up, for a brief moment the mage gave her a wink with one of his eyes as he finished his words. Soon after his eyes and body shifted, his sword slicing upwards quickly from it's relaxed pose, aiming to slam into the gunblade of the blonde man to send any bullets of his up into the sky and away from Neve's face. The red mage would follow his unusually direct action by attempting to slam the pommel of his sword into the man's face, soon after having gotten his blade out of the way. After all. Zeidgram was a healer too. It was their seemingly duty to tend to the wounded, and this man was wounded severely in the head. Nothing that abit of blunt force couldn't momentary cure.

"Weapons! Drop them! Or I'll skewer this man's jewelry to the point he would have to do a manhood measurement contest against girls in order to not feel wounded!" Zeidgram yelled out towards the group ahead of them, the tip of his sword moving to point towards the blonde man's pelvis. Ofcourse he had no intention of cutting the man's family tree down by a couple of generations, then again in order to maintain a fine garden you would have to remove weeds and cut off excessive branches. No doubt things wouldn't spiral out of control... further. They had work to do, more important work as far as he was concerned.