Dezuel

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Gadez Paladice

A man came wandering down the pathway, a long purple cloak over his entire form, shielding his armor underneath from view, yet his rare weapon of choice was sheathed upon his back neatly. His walk was steady, his pace slow as he observed the various buildings. 'Well, at least things are not burning. Yet.' He mused in his head as he inspected the various surroundings. 'An overly pompous barn. No doubt as pretentious as they are pious.' He thought as his eyes landed on the temple of Seluna.

"Ahh, nothing like the reek of cesspool in the morning. Guh." He said softly to himself as he passed by the tavern. Soon the doors to the herbal shop opened, hitting the small bell at the top to alert that a customer had just entered.

Paladice couldn't help but ponder the possibility that the blight may have it's root in this region, and if that was the case he would have to purify it. But for now there were other priorities, which would involve the prince and princess. He would have to get closer to them. Having not met neither one in person.

'The affliction cannot be magical nor god made. The gods if they exist would not sit idly by whilst a third would wreak havoc on their behalf, it cannot be magical neither for then it could be cured by the same kind. Therefor it must be natural or by alchemy. Perhaps there is some strange plant which causes the affliction, perhaps native only to this region. Perhaps underground or the mountains? I will find the source and-' The man pondered as his ghostly blue eyes wandered over the shop interior, scanning for any sign of taint. That's when he saw it, in the form of a fiery haired woman.

"They say if a flower falls upon the earth and dies, it shall bear life anew. I suspect some of that holds true, wouldn't you say so, oh blazehaired one?" He approached slowly, walking over to take hold of a water filled can used for watering plants. "Abit of water can do one well, but drink too much and one may drown. The prince of the dawned haven may have bitten off more than he can swallow, when all manner of beings swarm to the only seeming hope… or should I say light which they can cling to? Pray tell, what is it you see with those blazing eyes, afflicted one?" Paladice put the water can down and offered a slight upturn at the corner of his lips.

"Hmmm...mm... quite the little shop you have set up for yourself here. Afraid I do not see anything in here which I require, except perhaps your name? Providing you can share such with a mere humble gardener such as myself?" He rested his hand at his waist, revealing his armor underneath his cloak momentarily.

@The Muse

Realms of Sun & Shadow

A villain? Oh don't be so certain...

Name:
Gadez Paladice

"My name is the only title I ever need. What is yours? So that I may properly arrange your tombstone. Would you have some misfortunate… event."

Theme

youtube.com/watch?v=ptIzCforlRc

Age:
37

"Age does not equal wisdom, learn this as you wither, wretched old king."

Appearance:

Paladice (catbox link)

Paladice (Imgur link)

Youthful appearance for his age, and with a well kept body, built like an acrobat. No visible wrinkles, lacks scars. Has a tattoo on his chest depicting a circle with a triangle inside it, then a square within that and lastly another circle at the core. Clean shaven. Has ghostly piercing eyes, dramatically gestures with his entire body when speaking most of the time, speaks in a calm, soothing but at the same time quite cold tone of voice when relaxed or serious, and in a taunting or mocking one when in a more carefree mood or amused.

"Looks can deceive you, but I assure you, I will not."

Race:
Human

"I chose to believe in mankind."

Kingdom:
Lunaris (Aurelia formerly)

"Where does one truly belong though? They say home is where your people are. But what if you have no people? What then?"

Role:
Warrior-monk of the golden death. (Former)
Circus performer (Former)
Gardener (Current)

"Particular talents call for particular places to work ones craft."

Magic:
Healing (Adept level)
Psychic (Advanced level)
Fire (Expert level)

"Magic is impressive, but it's worthless if you don't have the will to wield it."

Short Bio:

He was born to unknown upper class parents in Aurelia, at the outskirts of the capitol. Yet became orphaned at a young age after his family mansion had caught fire. Leaving him the only survivor of the blaze. Thus he was taken to a distant monastery to become a monk. It became clear early on that he had a exceptional affinity for fire magic, which in turn caused the monks to send him further away to a more specialized monastery, belonging to an order of warrior-monks. Within stone walls he came to learn plenty. Sparring with weapons, hand-to-hand combat, reading about philosophy and history and many other valuable things, practicing fire and healing magic under older and more experienced magic users. Whilst the order of the golden death, the warrior-monks which he now belonged with was for the most part devout followers of Aelios, he was not. He refused to offer her prayers, especially kneel before her shrine. Not all things taught are heeded.

After many years his stay at the monastery came to a halt with the appearance of the blightborn. After an attack on the monastery by said blightborn, it was put aflame and once again it seemed like he was once more the sole survivor of an inferno. The Aurelian kingdom was looking for the rumored survivor to ask what had happened at the monastery, but to no avail.

Having already displeasure of the king of Aurelia, he left for the neighbouring kingdom of Lunaris, joining a travelling circus there, being the acrobat and fire display user of the group.

His time with the circus was a chance to see more of the world and meeting people, one of the circus crew, their fortune teller, illusionist and overall psychic trickery person caught his interest. He came to learn the basics of using psychic magic, however he almost completely disregarded it offensive wise, chosing only to use telekinesis, the rest of his focus went to defend against that very type of magic, to break illusions, form a telekinetic barrier, or to prevent people from prying into his mind by magical means. Whilst his fire magic wasn't as effective as it used to be since the blight affected it, it was still a mostly offensive form of magic he wielded, to use more than one to that degree felt like a waste to him.

At a later point he was introduced to an elderly seer of Lunaris, who was impressed with his ability to resist his prying attempts and trained under said elder until the latter's unfortunate death by old age. After having left the circus, he found work as a gardener for the royals in Lunaris, yet never discarded his weapon or armor, neither did he forget the path he had trodden and his daily training. Being a gardener may have seemed like a far leap away from what he were, but it was such a good opportunity to get a glimse into the lives of the royals and those which attended to them.

It did bring back memories for him, of the royals in Aurelia and how much he despised it's king.

The king which had left the monastery without aid, the king which had wronged so many. Having heard of the foundation of Dawnhaven and that the princess of Lunaris and the prince of Aurelia would be there was too much of a chance to pass up.

"Each story has a beginning and an end. Yet it is often at the end that one realizes ones place. What matters the most then? Your epitaph. A garden must be taken care of, weeds must be tossed into the light and burn."

Misc:

- He is not using his birthname, but the name he's chosen for himself.
- Wields a sword-staff, the blade is the length of a broadsword and theres a grip long enough to equal it.
- Wears a black breastplate, leather boots (metal over top of foot), leather gloves (metal bracers), has a metal neckguard to protect his neck, has a purple cloak, black pants, carries a waterskin and a belt with some pouches with dried meat. That is when he's not being about being a sneaky gardener.

"Time to live, time to grieve."

Ayel Raunefeldt

Name:
Ayel Raunefeldt

Age:
24

Appearance:



Race:
Human

Kingdom:
Aurelia

Role:
Marquess in Aurelia (Current)
Aurelius Emporium Guildmaster (Current)

Magic:

Light magic: Ayel is a capable light magic user, while not being able to compete with true masters of the art, he is good enough that he can brag to others about it, and scoff at those who has 'Enough freetime for such frivilous things' to mastered it. His light magic is for the most part offensive in nature, and lacking finesse and control. Prefering to hurl the equalent of fireballs of light energy to explode at things, or fierce short duration beams of light.

Illusion magic: A very rare magic to possess or practice, Ayel first became enthralled by the magic upon learning that it could be used to create illusions of himself and the nearby area. Unlike with light magic, this is something which the marquess has put effort into to become better at using, he is especially fond of creating copies of himself to admire both from a distance aswell as up close. For as far as he's concerned they are perfect from any distance and angle.

Short Bio:

Ayel is the middle child to a former duke, having inherited great wealth and influence over politics and trade in Aurelia. His family have been firm supporters of the royal family and of the Aelios clergy. Ayel is a firm believer in the goddesses, but only pay his respects to Aelios, considering himself to be 'her most favored child'. To say the man is a narcissist is an understatement, he is viscious, coldhearted and haughty. Considering himself leagues above everyone, even the royals but he would never say it to their face. He shows curtesy however to other nobles and to the royals, and to some degree the clergy of Aelios. However other people are not as fortunate, often finding themselves on the receiving end of his judgemental and condescending words.

Ayel is the grandmaster for a trading company, and always on search for making more of a profit and pandering to the rich and gloating at the poor. Often relishing in causing them suffering, raising prices of something they may want just out of spite. His sadistic nature has also led the man to apply for various roles. He is very keen on being nosy and elevating other peoples suffering into a form of art. Squeezing out every last coin if need be.

The man is also a germophobe, always wearing gloves when touching door handles, items or goddess forbid… other people. He considers the blightborn to be smelly peasants and on near equal footing to other peasants. He however sees no use to kill them, not when he could legally try to enslave them or indebt them. Because where there is money involved, there must not be a lack of creativity. The man takes pleasure in making others lives miserable, a true sadist at the core. He's weak towards flattery, and the more praise hurled in his direction, the more likely he is to overlook his regular restraints.

He enjoys to decorate his home with statues of himself, paintings of himself and mirrors. He enjoys fine drinks and fine food, but is paranoid about people trying to poison him or if the food is somehow compromised by germs. He also hates mud, prefering to use his servants as makeshift bridges whenever having to cross such a landscape.

To some it may come across as the man is completely oblivious or unfeeling, as if he has not an ounce of compassion in his body. But this isn't entirely true. As the man cares about himself a great deal, to the point that when things gets dangerous he will always prioritize his own survival. Aside from his phobia for germs, the Marquess also has an unreasonable fear for poor people, children and flirty women. Often reacting in a hysterical manner would any of the three lay their UNCLEAN hands on him. He is also having nightmares about receiving scars or having someone hit him in his beautiful face. If engaged in a battle, he is eager to show whomever is on the receiving end his superiority, usually by unleashing his magic in the most flashy and reckless way possible. There is no such thing as overkill to the man.

He is often accompanied by his aide, advisor and servant called Faldrin. Who equally often ends up being a vessel of suffering and receiving the brunt of the man's temper tantrums or whatever may come his way. Ayel also has two guards with him at times, but they are for the most part left to guard his belongings and make sure that whomever he is putting to work, keeps working. He currently have six workers accompanying him and three temporary carriage drivers, although none of those are allowed to sit in his carriage or goddess forbid come into contact with him. The workers are there to build his new Dawnhaven manor and trading post.

Misc:

- Has not a single scar. (yet)
- Always carries a handmirror with him
- Wears rings of precious metals and gemstones on each of his fingers. Also has a collection of necklaces, but wearing a locket around his neck with a painting of his now deceased mother.
- Carries a sheathed rapier by his belt, about as decorated as the man himself.
- Owns three carriages and various furniture etc.
- Always sports the latest perfumes and attires.
- Has a ton of coin with him.

Anora

Name:
Anora Opal Raunefeldt
Anora Opal Malkin
Age:
18

Appearance:



Race:
Human

Kingdom:
Aurelia

Role:
Alchemist

Magic:
Earth magic (gem creation and plants), light magic (Thin beams)

Short Bio:

Anora early life is covered in mystery, as her mother died giving birth to her and her father gave her away to an Aurelian orphanage. She was only left with an odd looking ring of gold which the orphanage headmistress kept from her til she had gotten old enough. The ring was the only link to her biological family, she only hoped someday someone might recognize it and point her where to look. The inside of the ring bearing the initials C.M. Anora had long assumed the ring belonged to her birthmother, she had often asked the people in the Aurelian capitol if they knew anyone by the name of Malkin.

The answers ranged from the most outrageous to grim, but there was some who said things which made sense to her. Her mother was a noblewoman with an illness that made walking difficult, she had very seldomly been seen outdoors. She had been described as a darkhaired woman with grey eyes and pale skin. It was said she was a researcher of some kind. When asking about her father, Anora had been getting far less. Some claimed he was Duke Raunefeldt himself, and that's why she had been adopted by their family after her mother had passed away. But Anora knew this wasn't the case, as she had learnt plenty of her foster father's problems in producing heirs from her foster mother. Perhaps abit too much information than she had wanted.

As for her biological father, all other rumors and sightings pointed to that he was either a knight, a man of the clergy or some wandering bard. Perhaps she would never know. If she could only figure out what the strange design of the ring meant. It had something to do with her mother and her studies. She was certain of it. It was almost as if it were a signet ring, she knew what the markings were. Fire. Earth. Air. Water. But they were intertwined together? What did it mean?

While her foster mother was not very fond of her studies, her foster father was much more supportive even if he wasn't being present for most of her youth. Anora came to enjoy making her own tea when not blowing things up by combining elements in her study. She was also looking for some way to create a cure for all ailments, perhaps that had been what her mother had sought? A cure for her illness? But she had no idea what illness it were. There was no way she could know.

When not enwrapped with her studies, magical training and experiments, she was taught plenty of etiquette from her foster mother, but despite being reprimanded, she still wanted to join her foster brothers on their respective adventures. Despite being quite younger than both Ayel and Andros, she was intent on following them, alongside Prince Flynn and any of his other friends. Anora liked Flynn plenty, often seeing him as the ideal white knight. Although Ayel often was picked by the prince to stay behind whenever they were off to do something, and Andros often got distracted mid-way by spotting a butterfly or a cricket to give chase after.

Despite having differences with both of her foster brothers, she came to like both of them, even if she had to reprimand both of them for behaving bad. Typically it was Ayel being abusive to the old butler, the chef, the maids, the carriage driver... the more she thought of it. Most people. And her other brother had to sometimes be yelled at for blocking the road while picking up stones or poking at some dead bug with a stick.

But all things considered she felt blessed, she had gotten a lucky hand and ended up with a family that had plenty of wealth and she never had to be hungry or be in need of anything. Except the one thing she craved more than anything else. Answers.

Then the world had gone dark, the blightborn had also come forth. While she had never laid her eyes on one, she was certainly concerned. What had caused the world to drastically change like that? When she heard about the foundation of Dawnhaven, she had already made up her mind about what she needed to do. With her foster father and foster mother dead, there was no one to stop her from leaving the capitol. Her foster brother Ayel had however, despite his vast backpack and loaded carriages, beaten her to setting off towards Dawnhaven. Flynn was there too. And wherever the prince were, her brother would surely to follow. It made her think of prisoners and the ball and chain. Perhaps it would be good for Flynn to have someone like her brother to hold him back? She couldn't help but giggle at the idea, before climbing into her own carriage. Setting off towards Dawnhaven herself. She wanted to help out.

It was only partly the reason. But she had received a letter from someone which told her that what she was looking for was to be found in Dawnhaven, if she wanted to find it. The cure of all ailments? She didn't know who sent her the letter, but her foster brother and Prince Flynn were there. The adventure of a lifetime. She was certain her remaining brother Andros would be able to handle the affairs in the capitol with his four aides.

She watched as the carriages set out, her main one and the following one having all the belongings she needed for the trip. She only hoped the more volatile bottles wouldn't explode on the way to Dawnhaven.

Misc:

- Carries an umbrella with a hidden blade at the top.
- She's an able alchemist and magician, possessing a more energy conservative and clever way of using magical powers. An outside-the-box thinker.
- Makes great tea which dulls all senses.
- Lethal baker. She makes small pastries that are so sweet and full of sugar that it dulls the taste senses for the rest of the day.
- Can make poisons if required. Not her speciality.
- Usually wears a dress down to her ankles, corset and bloomers.
- Can make special potions.
- Able to identify various gemstones and plants. But she cannot identify animals as well. Thinking a badger is a small bear.
- Loves rodents.
- Can be highly jealous at times.
- Has dark and blonde hair, split midway. One side is dyed.

He's a pirate!

Name:
Claret Carneylus Crown
Age:
27

Appearance:



Claret dresses typically in a red, yellow and black pirate coat with black pants and a white frilled undershirt. He has sewed on a pair of extra arms for his coat. His pirate hat he sadly gifted away to a boy at a black market. He wears a eyepatch on his forehead, but it seldom covers any of his eyes. He got some buckled boots and a pair of leathery gloves, four in fact.

Race:
Blightborn

Blight-Born Traits:

- Has two extra arms.
- Red eyes
- Black hair which has for the most part turned white or greyish
- Pale skin
- Sharp elongated cornerteeth

Blight born type: Classical. Blood drinker.

Kingdom:
Lunaris

Role:
Pirate (former)
Pirate captain (former)
Wanted scoundrel

(Hunted by the Lunaris kingdom for: Piracy, robbery, brigandry, highwaymanship, slander, arson, theft, theft of famous jewelry, illegally kissing the late queen on the cheek after bumping into her, horsethievery, breaking into a prison, breaking out of a prison, raising the Aurelian banner in the Lunaris capitol, attempting to sell wax food as real food, vagrancy, stealing potatoes, sold the very horse he stole from a farmer back to him claiming it was another horse, and many other things)

(Hunted by the Aurelian kingdom for: Piracy, Attending a ball uninvited, kissing of a noble daughter for all to see, breaking a artist made painted window to make his escape, stealing from the aurelian temples, theft of priest attire, mimicking a priest, stealing from the Raunefeldt family home, pretending to be a guard, theft of a wagon, theft and breaking of one-of-a-kind vase from the local museum, taking four scimitars made by the local smith and then paying with stolen gold and many other things)

Magic:
Air magic (Expert)

Short Bio:

Claret was taken in at an early age by his scoundrel of an uncle after his parents had an unfortunate accident while fishing for shrimp. His uncle in question was a pirate, ladiesman and overall reliever of other people's property whenever possible. Claret picked up many of his uncle's particular personality traits as he looked to him as a father figure. He early on served aboard the Crown Jewel, the aptly named ship of his pirate uncle. His initial role on the ship was aiding the magician aboard whose main role was using his mastery of air magic to blow wind into the sails whenever there was a particular need for it. Like outrunning whomever was coming to try and stop them from their livelyhood, or catch up with those juicy looking merchant ships.

Due to his uncle's request he was taught not to kill unless truly given no other choice, and this teaching still lingers with him to the current day. He will never kill a defeated opponent unless given no other choice to solve a situation or if they have committed a truly heinous or unforgivable act.

As Claret's parents perished in a shrimp fishing incident, the man has vowed to not eat shrimp nor fish it, unless his very life would depend on it. It hits him way to close to heart.

The scoundrel of a man has a witty tongue, quick and always ready to hurl in comments whenever possible, even if the situation is highly inappropriate. He's a very capable of using air magics and has a hefty bit of endurance and great balance, especially on ships, up on wooden beams or while climbing on ropes. His swordmanship is however even more potent than his magical prowess, the man enjoys sparring and fighting, having done plenty of it aboard the Crown Jewel with or without betting. One of his favorite things to do to pass time. He also enjoys playing cardgames, dart throwing contests and the occasional drinking contest.

He's abit of a showman aswell, given the chance he likes beating up others at their own game. Even if it's a game he's not familiar with. Claret is beaming with confidence and isn't afraid to show it. The man isn't good at using coin sparingly, and often finds himself living way above his standard with things. Sometimes he 'borrows' drinks and food from other people's plates. But equally often he shares some of his food if someone else needs a little extra.

Unfortunately his days as a pirate is over, despite having been promoted to captain of the Crown Jewel, the ship ended up crashing into a reef during an intense storm despite his attempts to control the very storm itself with his magic, nothing could prevent the disaster. Lightning struck the lookout post and the greatest sail aswell, which caused the ship to gradually tilt and go under. The rowboats were launched and his crew got into them one after the other, but he remained on board to try to steer the ship towards a nearby beach. He wasn't intending on letting his uncle's, and now his precious ship and home to go down without a fight.

That's when the great wave came, it blew him into the sea, and he was hit by a barrel that had come lose and gave him a concussion, he then clung to the only piece of wood he could find. Save for his own. The steering wheel of the Crown Jewel, it kept him afloat in the stormy water. And he began to feel pain... surging pain. But he was too tired to even scream and eventually he found himself, much like driftwood on a beach.

Nearby scattered all over the beach were pieces of the ship and many bodies of his shipmates. Birds had already begun to feast upon them. He had awoken to one picking on his cheek, not realizing he was still alive. Just how long had he been out of it?

He swirled his four arms around to scare it away. Wait? His four arms? What manner of nightmare had he woken up into? His mates were dead, his ship was gone and now he could count to twenty with his fingers alone. He had always been handy with his hands, but this was crazy. He was mourning all that which he had lost, but at the same time couldn't help but admire his extra pair of arms and hands. Too bad he no longer had anyone to show them to.

It wasn't long before he felt a powerful urge, a hunger. He wanted to eat something. Drink something.

His eyes set on a white seagull nearby.

Then with a haste he didn't even knew he had he flung at it, catching it with his four hands. They stared at each other for a few seconds.

"Ye ate me mates birdy. Nay hard feelins', but ye are officially dinin' with the captain. Better say ye prayers to Seluna, heck we'd both be doin' tha'. Fly fly, birdy bye!" He opened his mouth instinctively and his newly formed sharp cornerteeth glimmered in the moonlight.

The scene then faded to black.


Misc:

- Capable swimmer
- Able climber
- Brushes his teeth after every meal.
- Carries a ton of hidden weapons, typically throwing daggers on his person. The majority of daggers are visible on his chest-belt though.
- Does not eat shrimp.
- Carries a bottle with emergency rum on his person.
- Keeps a handle from the steering wheel from his ship, the Crown Jewel in his pocket as a memento.
- Likes to correct himself as "Captain Crown" when he feels there's a need to show-off.
- Has sworn not to wear a captain hat anymore until the boy he gifted it to has come to challenge him in the ultimate pirate challenge. That and to honor his fallen mates.
- Carries a necklace with a sea-gull skull at it.

Destiny Reborn! A Dark Fantasy Isekai with a twist.

I would like to show my interest for this :) Paladin time!

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

Bloodbeak and Cawcax

"Get that cart moving! Where are your permits?" Bloodbeak cawed as he oversaw the orderly fashion in which his people were both taken into the underground shelters, but also saw to leading them out of them once it was all clear.

"Form a line! Form a line! There is no reason for panic!" Bloodbeak proclaimed, and just then he saw it. Something far worse than enemies outside of this world, something far more wicked.

"Well, well if it isn't that good for nothing goblinkissing traitor!" Bloodbeak put both of his taloned hands at his waist as he observed the more slender fowlfolk, Cawcax approach.

"Who are you again?" The slender looking crowman asked, his head tilting, pretending that he didn't remember.

"Such impudence! You ungrateful little scab! I am Bloodbeak, loyal servant of our lord
How dare you insult me you beastman hugging fakebeak!" Bloodbeak gripped his staff angrily.

"I thought I smelled the stench of blind faith. Guess that were you all along. Huh." Cawcax said in a mocking tone.

"Listen here you talonlacking hatchling, I was told to deliver you these two items, and nothing would please me more for you to say no to them so I can give them to someone who is actually not a good-for-nothing!" Bloodbeak presented the dagger and the ring which Reverion had given to him to offer to Cawcax.

"Does your god truly expect me to simply accept these weapons as some kind of peace offering? I am not gonna kneel for him or anyone else. But I shall take these items, perhaps I can have them aid in the undoing of the lot of them." Cawcax mused and snatched the items from Bloodbeak.

"How dare you mock the greatness and generousity of your own creator! You ungrateful rotten half-egged good for nothing godhater!" Bloodbeaks talons, no his entire body was shaking. He wanted nothing more than strike down this affront before him, why had their maker made him share the skies and earth with someone like this? He couldn't understand. Even if his god would explain it. This particular kin of his was his antithesis, his polar opposite. Where was his sense of duty, love for his people, his god and even the world? What was it that had made him such an oddity. It were as if he couldn't bear the idea of a being standing above him in authority and power.

"You are correct with one thing. I do hate them. Because they dare to use us as their playthings, it's coming natural to them to just see us as toys or subjects whose sole purpose is to worship them and spread their influence. I will never kneel to any of them, as long as I have my free will. My rebellion will live on. Mark my words Bloodbeak, there will be a day when mortals such as I will attain power enough to destroy the gods, and that will set us all free." Cawcax gave an almost sinister grin with his teeth filled beak.

"I will not let you even think about causing harm to our great benefactors! I will be there to teach you a lesson one day, best not forget it! You know nothing of loyalty and honor! " Bloodbeak pointed a talon towards Cawcax.

"And I do not intend to start now." Cawcax said in a nonchalant way as he sheathed the dagger, and pocketed the ring.

"Well... " Bloodbeak took a moment to collect himself for his witty reply.

"Well you are ugly! Yes that's right, go and wash that goblin looking face!" Bloodbeak yelled out in a triumphant manner.

MP

16/16

Summary

One crowman passing godly gifts upon another. Neither fond of the other. Building tension.

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

Reverion

'Something is stirring. It is as if a wall has been penetrated...' The black-winged god thought to himself, then Bloodbeak would storm into the scene.

"My lord! Your faithful servant wishes to report that there is trouble! The mistress has sent out warnings to us, I have ordered your faithful followers underground!" Bloodbeak exclaimed in a satisfied manner.

"Good. Whatever this disturbance is, while I am not here, you will be in charge of overseeing Harrowfane. I will leave and find the cause of this disturbance and unroot it." Reverion explained to Bloodbeak.

"As you wish my lord!" Bloodbeak bowed deep enough that his beak touched the floor.

"One more thing, Bloodbeak. I need you to establish yet another site of worship within Harrowfane. Closer to the water, yet underground. And I need you to deliver these two things to Cawcax." Reverion used his divine power to form two artifacts, one in each hand. One was a ring the other was a dagger.

"B-but m-my lord! Your allmighty greatness and wisest of all gods! What are these things and why should that ungrateful fake-beak Cawcax be given them?" Bloodbeak said in a concerned manner.

"It is a ring which makes it's wielder into an undead for as long as it is worn. It will prevent him from death if he so desires, yet he is prideful. He would never accept the blessing from me in person. This way he may feel... unbound." Reverion explained calmly.

"My lord! Pardon me, but why are you gifting that good-for-nothing rulebreaker?" Bloodbeak asked.

"It takes strength to oppose a god, in his very temple surrounded by many others. Defiance against what is out there, I see parts of myself in that. For whatever may be out there and created us must be strong. I will never bend the knee and throw away my principles. Remember my words well, Bloodbeak. And find admiration in those which distinguish themselves, for only together can a chain of links be strong to bind things." The god continued and then handed his follower the two artifacts.

"I.. yes milord! But what is this wespon?" The elder fowlfolk vampire asked.

"It's a weapon for unmaking. It is like a single tooth in a jaw, but it will work on other mortals. If a mortal ever poses a threat to him, he may use it in defense." The undead god smiled softly. This dagger would be a precursor to something greater, something which he would wield himself, but perhaps it's destined talons would in the end fall into the hands of a mortal.

"Understood my lord!" Bloodbeak squeeked.

"I will now go and deal with this disturbance, and if necessary, I will undo it." The god reached with his hand into his own chest and took out one of his ribs, he allowed his divine energies to surround it as it began to take it's shape.

"Behold the unmaker!" The god held out what could only be described as a swordspear.

Bloodbeak's eyes shimmered.

"It is magnificent milord! It truly reminds me of you! Then again it was made from you... I mean no disrespect milord!" He added and bowed many times quickly.

"Get your fellow kin underground in an orderly fashion and tell them to brace for any possible attacks upon Harrowfane." The dark god hurled himself up into the air, his newly made weapon in hand, his sight towards the great tree and beyond.

Whatever had decided to cause a disorderly ruckus would have to be subdued. He suspected El'Zadir may have already moved towards it, and Anatu, the goddess he had met after her may also be there. Albeit at a distance. He knew that he had to be on the offense this time around, but it was for the sake of defense.

Summary

Summary: Reverion converses with the fowlfolk hero Bloodbeak, handing out some orders and artifacts, while arming himself.

MP

MP: 7/7

-1 Holy site created (Gloamshore)
-1 Dagger of vampiric drain (Artifact boosted by undeath)
- 1 Ring of turning (Turns the wearer into an undead)
- 4 Godsbane artifact ( The Unmaker, a swordspear.)

0 MP left.

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

Reverion

Reverion strode back and forth in the newly constructed palace, it wasn't that he found it to his dislike. But he felt somehow... wrong? Was it right for him to feel wrong about lording over his own creations? El'Zadir had done alot to improve the way of living for his people to the point they were chanting her name in praise, this was something good however, something worthy of recognition. But he couldn't offer her a gift that would be showing enough of his gratitude, unlike with his creations which were singing his praises wherever he went.

He devised a plan to create an artifact in her name and memory, not only for himself but also for the Fowlfolk. While not a site of worship like a temple or a shrine, it would remind the Fowlfolk to be orderly and civilized even amidst chaotic times. Using his divine powers he allowed the artifact, the statue to take shape in the middle of the city square of Harrowfane. He was surprised how accurately it depicted her. Too accurately. The god decided to cover up her abdomen abit further. The statue of her bore his feathery cape, a sign of his own influence.

He allowed himself a satisfied musing. "Perfect."

"Behold all of you, this statue depicts she who came to me and you and bestowed upon you this great city and the tools in your hand. Praise her and respect the laws and orders which Harrowfane holds, for they are the same as mine." Reverion raised his hand into a fist towards the large cave ceiling in the great cave hall.

"Bloodbeak, bring forth your chosen champions. Those whom have distinguished themselves above others, to receive the gift of undeath. You are not forced to accept my gift, for it is what it is. It is a gift, not a curse. Come into the great palace and you shall be ascended." Reverion said as he strode off towards his home. His mortal home? What was home anyways? Home was where your people were. Yes. He was home.

"Get in line! You there! Get in line I say!" Bloodbeak cawed loudly as one of the fowlfolk seemingly stood immobile and not heeding his words.

"Did you hear me? You are disrespecting our lord and the new laws of Harrowfane!" Bloodbeak went up and looked over the otherwise slender and significantly more weak looking crow-man.

"Enough. I want to hear what this one has to say." Reverion beckoned to Bloodbeak to back down, causing the slender looking crow-man to smirk. Could they smirk? There was a shrewd glimmer in his eyes, Bloodbeak could see it.

"With all due respect. 'Divine highness'. I have no interests in your gift or being a pawn." The slender looking crowman said, his pose defiant in the presence of a god. It was enough to make Bloodbeak get a panicked expression on his face as he scurried up. "My lord allow me to punish this one for his insolence!" Bloodbeak grabbed hold of his spear with a copper tip, on the ready to deal with what he saw as a traitor.

"Nevermind that. Let him leave." Reverion motioned with his hand in a casual manner, but within the god's mind he saw something promising. A mortal had just defied him in front of his followers? His own creation? While he had only met El'Zadir, he was certain that the other gods would no doubt have smitten the mortal down where it stood. But he could not do it.

'To stand before the nothingness and defy me, that takes strength too. Such a show of arrogance.' It made the god feel simply amazed, that there was another being, albeit mortal and from his own creation, which had that same spirit. The spirit of resistance. While he couldn't bestow the crow-man with the same blessing as he had done the others, for that would have caused confusion amidst his followers. They would not understand his affection for the distinguished.

"What is your name, little crow-man?" Reverion asked the slender looking one.

The fowlfolk all around were quiet, the slender one amongst them. It caused Bloodbeak to point his spear at him. "Speak up, impudent dwarf."

Reverion's gaze shifted to Bloodbeak. "Did you just use the word dwarf to describe him? Do not." He said in a calm tone, but there was authority.

"O-ofcourse my lord!" Bloodbeak fell on his knees and knelt down.

"My name is Cawcax." The slender looking crowman said, defiance slipping out of his beak for every word uttered, his body itself displayed the same.

"I curse you Cawcax, to wander the lands of Harrowfane, wherever you go, you shall not be able to hurt your fellow fowlfolk, nor shall they in turn be able to hurt you. Wander until you find faith anew." Reverion said in a stern tone.

'May my blessing protect your kind and yourself on your path onwards. Show me just how much you will distinguish yourself... Cawcax.' The god mused in his own mind as he cast a blessing of protection on Cawcax and in the same moment elevated him as a hero of his kind.

Bloodbeak narrowed his eyes to Cawcax. "Pox and the sun be upon you!" Bloodbeak spitted in his direction, but soon realized he just defiled his god's palace so he went over to wipe the spit up using another's cloak. Soon after that Cawcax left the palace and went out to the surface. Soon after Reverion bestowed the gift of undeath to the chosen ones, which had distinguished themselves in Harrowfane. Effectively turning them into vampires using his blessing. Then the talonhanded lord directed Bloodbeak and his chosen, alongside a couple of more living Fowlfolk to go forth and create a second holy site south of the first.

"Bloodbeak, use the knowledge gained to make a minor settlement. It shall become a fortress, whereof this shall forever remain your sanctuary."

Summary

Summary:

Reverion gets impressed with insolent and disrespectful fowlfolk male called Cawcax and secretly blesses him and makes him a hero of his kind. While further giving out vampire gifts to some others and sending Bloodbeak and others to build a new holy site south of the first one. He also expands the living area of Harrowfane. Also added a non-lewd statue of El'Zadir to further amplify the lawfulness of the Fowlfolk.

MP

MP: 6/6

- 1 Protection of the law (Artifact, statue of El'Zadir with her feather cloak. Protects against rebellion, unlawfulness and chaos)
- 1 Cawcax (Hero)
- 1 Protection of the fowlfolk blessing (given to Cawcax to make him unable to harm other Fowlfolk, but at the same time make them unable to harm him.)
- 1 Blessing of undeath (Given to chosen warriors, scholars, builders etc of the Fowlfolk race. Effectively turning them into vampires.)
- 1 Barrowfell (Holy site, south of the first holy site in Harrowfane).
- 1 Harrowfane livingspace (Expansion of the area which the Fowlfolk may build upon, underground and above.)

MP:0

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

Reverion

He couldn't help but feel contentment at seeing his creations move around and explore the land he had chosen for them, with his place of worship in the middle of the largest cave. While he had chosen a name for his creations, the Fowlfolk. He felt that the land itself also needed a name. He closed his eyes for a moment before uttering it's name.

Harrowfane.

"I name your homeland, Harrowfane. Temple of the barrow birds. Fowlfolk you are, yet more you may become. Breed and spread out, learn what you can of the land. Trial and error. To err is mortal. Take my gift to you all... The pool of warding off hunger. From flesh and blood you are made, and flesh and blood will you consume."

Reverion created an artifact what could only be described to be a large fountain spewing meat and bloodlike liquid. The sight of the food and drink sent the Fowlfolk into a near feeding frenzy. "Remember my teachings and more shall be yours." He then left them, but he came to realize that his creations would need to be watched over, especially during this early stage of creation. He was a god who would see them become worthy of the gift of the gods eternal existance, undeath as far as he was concerned. But it also made him realize that he would have to branch out abit further.

He would have to become more than he was too, much like the mortals he would have to grow aswell.

"Come forth. Claim the understanding you need." He spoke out to the crowmen who were getting their fill of food and drinks, one big in particular tilted it's head and took a leap out of the fountain of gore and wandered up to his creation.

Reverion held out his taloned hand and summoned a tome. "Touch it and you shall become more akin to me." It didn't take the large Fowlfolk long to approach, stretching out it's own claws to take hold of the tome with it's bloodied talons. Then it opened it and looked, and within moments there was a change in the creature's eyes, as if it had awakened from a slumber. It was now looking around with newfound understanding and wit, to the point it would speak- and then caw to his fellow kin to come and look into the tome.

The large one had distinguished itself in it's initiative, it was the only sign the god needed. A distinguishing from the rest.

"You have shown yourself extra worthy. I name you Bloodbeak, you shall be the first to know how I feel. If you are willing, come forth and hold out your talons." The god waited patiently, and did not have to wait long for the large crowlike figure to jump forwards, it's eyes telling that it was intrigued albeit with some caution. Yet it did as it was asked. Then it was given the gift of undeath itself, it could feel as life was slipping away from it, being replaced by unlife. It's black eyes turning red, it's touch growing cold, it's need to breathe... gone. Replaced by a feeling of power aswell, as the creature was bestowed further power by it's god. Becoming a paragon of it's kind, and atop it's head a crown took shape. To mark it as their leader and guide.

"That'll do. Hear his words and heed them, for they shall be the same as mine. Now go forth my creations, claim what is yours. Claim it with kindness and kin."

Summary

Summary: Reverion further bestows some gifts to his creations, in the shape of a tome of knowledge, a pool of endless food and drink. And then giving the largest and most impressive among them undeath itself as a vampire, becoming a hero of his kind and ruler with a crown, to symbolize but also protect his kind. (Caw Bloodbeak)

MP

MP:

- 1 Pool of warding off hunger. (Artifact)
- 1 Tome of Tutorship (Basic knowledge of how to build simple huts/nests, forage, speak, read, write, create fires, cook etc)
- 1 Hero (Caw Bloodbeak)
- 1 Protection against life and death (Undead vampiric blessing)
- 1 Crown of Fowlfolk protection (Artifact. May magically protect friendly nearby Fowlfolk)

-5 Spent MP.

Total MP remaining: 0

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

There is no remaining MP! The divine piggybank is empty! All must spend, this is a godsend. I may have to do some cleanup of the post, but that will have to be later. Now back to godly business irl! Ahh missed to put out 5 points, damn.

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

Blitzkrieg time Galbar!

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

Reverion

He was not alone, of this he was certain. What or who were these other existances, and what were their purpose. No doubt he would find out.

But before he would seek them out, he would do that which had been done to himself, to create something out of nothing. Make it partly in his image, bearing the potential to obtain the higher form of existance in which he possessed.

The blackwinged god landed on Galbar, his intentions clear, he would bestow upon these creations an incomplete existance, where they would grow from an egg and gradually wither to become nothing. But to become oblivion was not the desired goal, just the whip upon the back, the result of failure, the thing pushing them onwards to do what would be in their power to avoid. All they had to do was prove themselves worthy. But who would they be?

Reverions taloned hands began to create them in his image, but incomplete, avian in nature, cowered in black feathers snd bearing talons like his and black wings. However unlike him, they would have beaks akin to crows.

"Come forth, you whom shall walk and fly upon this world. I shall name you Fowlfolk. Become something that is worthy, know me as your creator and your gate to the greater existance, your minds shall hold the key to your ascension. Acknowledge me as your maker and unmaker, your guardian and your warden, for I will protect you from oblivion and watch over your mortal cage. Worship my teachings and teach others of my path of greater existance and you shalt be rewarded."

Thus it came to be that the Fowlfolk were put into existance before him, their eyes watching their creator with wonder and amazement, and the same gaze was gi en back to them. They were beautiful, flawed, but they held all they needed to reach the goal. To become akin to him. But also empower him through dedication, aiding him to become greater than he is.

Reverion made sure to create a large cavern with tunnels, making them know this would be their home but also their place of gratitude, their constant reminder of their origin and who they were.

A holy site, theirs to maintain, but it was also one in which they could induce themselves with his teachings.

At the center of this holy site, he left an orb. A token of protection, which would aid in concealing the location of the holy site, but not the fowlfolk themselves.

He also gave his creations his divine law.

- Do not inflict unnecessary suffering.
- Do not force your will upon others by force. Be just.
- Oblivion is your enemy.
- Convert others to the true path.
- Strive for greatness, cast off your mortal shells.
- Seek moderation in the understandings of the universe.
- Indulge yourselves in the fleshy desires. But always be wary of evil.
- The wicked shall not go unpunished.

These eight teachings would come to represent the basics of Reverion, the holy symbol of his being the number 8. Or rather the infinity sign.

Summary: Monologues as he creates his mortal bird people, a holy site dedicated to himself as a big cave underground and an artifact which aids in concealing the site. Plus giving them some basic laws to unlive by.

MP

MP: - 5 Spent.

- 3 For creating the Fowlfolk race (Non-undead at start, carnivores)
- 1 Creation of holy site. (The great catachasm)
- 1 Orb of concealment ( Artifact. Orb which aids in concealing the holy site)