DoubleChecker

[The Grand Duchy] Labyrinth of the Primordial Bloom [FINISHED]

[If you are interested in joining a setting like this, check out: roleplayerguild.com/topics/196759-ise…]

@DoubleChecker - Asset Goal: Grand Duchy Nobility F
@Book - Asset Goal: ?
@pkken - Asset Goal: Harvester Asset Mine F
@Red Hood - Asset Goal: ?
@Nakushita - Asset Goal: ?

The carriage waits, humming with a low magical thrum. The West Gate of the Luminary stands open before it, offering a view of the bustling city of Aslan beyond. Your journey to the edge of the Verdant Heart is about to begin.

The group settles into the enchanted carriage. The door clicks shut, and with a lurch that is more felt than heard, the carriage begins to move. There is no sound of wheels or hooves, only the faint hum of magic. It glides through the West Gate and into the bustling streets of Aslan.

The journey is a showcase of the Grand Duchy's marvels. The carriage rises smoothly, joining streams of magical vehicles and individual fliers navigating the vertical city. Below, citizens walk on magically illuminated pathways, constructs perform civic duties with tireless efficiency, and the great port teems with ships both mundane and magical. The carriage moves with impossible speed, the cityscape blurring past the windows before giving way to the manicured greenbelts that surround the capital.

Soon, the meticulously planned landscape transitions into the wilder temperate forests and plains of the Duchy's outer territories. The journey takes several hours, passing in relative silence as the carriage speeds eastward. The sun begins its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

Just as dusk begins to settle in earnest, the carriage slows. The smooth, magical hum falters, replaced by a subtle, disquieting vibration that seems to thrum up from the very ground. The air outside the windows grows thick and heavy, and the familiar sounds of the forest—the chirping of insects, the call of birds—are conspicuously absent. There is only a deep, resonant silence.

The carriage comes to a complete stop. The door clicks open, revealing the destination.

You stand at the edge of a nightmare jungle. This is not the temperate rainforest you were expecting; this is the Verdant Heart.

The trees here are monstrously overgrown, their trunks thick as towers and warped into grotesque shapes. They form a canopy so dense that it chokes the last vestiges of twilight, plunging the forest floor into an unnatural gloom. The undergrowth is a tangled, thorny mass of vines and pulsing, bioluminescent fungi that cast a sickly green and violet light on everything. The air is cloyingly sweet with the smell of rampant decay and alien blossoms.

But the most unsettling feature is the sound. It is not a true sound, but a low, pervasive thrumming that you feel in your bones—the same vibration you felt as the carriage approached. It is the rhythm of a slow, powerful heartbeat, seeming to emanate from the entire forest at once. With every "beat," the glowing fungi flare brighter and the thorny vines seem to twitch and writhe in the gloom.

This is not a natural place. It is a living, breathing labyrinth, and its heart is beating somewhere in the oppressive darkness ahead. A narrow, winding path, more like a tunnel carved through the thorns and roots, is the only visible point of entry.

The enchanted carriage behind you hums once, a clear signal that it will wait here, but will go no further. Your mission begins now.

[Otenzel - The East Empire] The Grand Coliseum

@Sanity43217 - Asset Goal - ?
@CorvianMERCDB - Asset Goal - ?

Remember to use the full notation for attacks, just as you guys did during the training post, like - Combat Notation for Neco-Arc's attack: Strength B (5) + Natural Weapons C (4) + Fighting Style [Catting Around - Natural Weapons] C (4) = Base Effectiveness = 13 Base Effectiveness. This will be useful in every RP you participate in and makes the narrator verification of results easier.

The knife runner comes fast, blades flashing for the cross-parry. Varius drops the gladius like a hawk stooping. Steel meets steel with a loud bite that jars the thug’s wrists. The angle is wrong by a hair. The edge skims past his guard and the pommel blooms under his cheekbone a heartbeat later. He pops off his heels and skids three steps, sand pluming. His stance loosens, footwork lagging as if his boots suddenly grew heavy. [Knife Runner takes 2 damage, Knockback F, Drain Speed F.] (Varius E Grade Abilities are now on cooldown, only being avaiable in the next round. Cooldown 0/1)

The dockside bruiser whips his net for the catch the instant Varius lands. It whistles over a shoulder and snaps on empty air. He yanks to tangle legs and gets only sand. The boat hook jab streaks low for the calf and carves a furrow instead. The crowd hoots at the near miss. Varius shakes free of the press with no strings on him.

At the red gate line, the shield thug chooses Don. He barrels in, board high, feet churning, trying to drive the older fighter backward toward the rail. The rim thumps for center mass and the cudgel lifts over the top for a collarbone chop as soon as the board finds purchase. Then he plants behind the round shield, squat and braced, daring a counter while he screens the lane for his mates. (4~7 Base Effectiveness attack incoming VS Don)

Neco-Arc

From the corner of the mouth of the tunnel, Neco Arc cups tiny paws and hollers, “Buns in, fangs out, remember to party when they parry, nya.” The drum keeps time. The knives flicker again at range, but the knife runner’s bounce is gone. Don has a split second to choose his line into the rushing board.

[Otenzel - The East Empire] The Grand Coliseum

@Sanity43217 - Asset Goal - ?
@CorvianMERCDB - Asset Goal - ?

Neco-Arc

The cat’s ears flick. “First blood? Oh no, that is not what this crowd wants, nya.” One stubby paw lifts, index wagging left and right. “Death is a seasoning, not the stew. If someone dies it will be because the fight demands it, or because the Imperial game maker wants it. Do not pick fights with the sky seats. If they decide your foe needs finishing, you finish. Capisce, nya?”

Neco-Arc pivots to Varius, eyes huge and shining. “Fame, glory, money, and admirers, both men and women, by the armful, nya. Win pretty and the city remembers your name. Win ugly and they still pay, just less.” Tiny fists pump. “Time.”

The little terror scoots behind the pair and shoves. The handlers at the arch catch the handoff. A guard drags a brush over your breastplates, red paint in a rough stripe that drips as it sets. Red Team marked. The portcullis rattles up. Light punches in, hot and bright. The roar of Otenzel pours through the gate like surf.

Sand takes your first steps. Heat lifts sweet and harsh smells. Wine. Oil. Trampled straw. Old iron. Above, rings of stone packed with bodies, slaves standing behind silk cushions, cheap benches heaving, shaded boxes calm as ponds. In one such box a man in black cuirass and red cloak rises, laurel bright against dark hair. The Praetorian Prefect Magnus Salinator rests both hands on the rail. He does not smile. He does not need to.

Two boxes over, a foreign lord in brocade and fur edging lifts his staff and gives the crowd a genial nod. Grand Mayor Maffeo di Albrisis enjoys the show like a man inspecting a fine ship. Flags ripple behind him, colors you do not see in local fleets.

A brass horn blares. The Announcer’s voice rides the whole bowl.

“Good people of the Imperial Capital, welcome to the Grand Coliseum.” The cheer peaks, then holds. “Today, we are honored by the Praetorian Prefect, Magnus Salinator, the hand that shapes the games.”

Magnus Salinator

Salinator lifts a palm. His voice is iron and gravel. “Fight clean. Fight hard. Obey the marshals. Impress me.”

“And we are joined by a guest of the sea. The Grand Mayor Maffeo di Albrisis.” The elderly dignitary rises, smiles, and gives a small wave with the staff’s finial. The noble boxes applaud in a warm ripple.

Maffeo di Albrisis

The Announcer cuts the air with his next line. “For our first event, we bring you action. We bring you blood. Rookies of the Red Team against rookies of the Green.”

Across the sand the Green gate yawns and three figures slouch out to the drum.

A dockside bruiser, bare chest roped with old scars, a salt-stiff fishing net looped over one shoulder and a boat hook sanded to a mean point. A green rag is knotted at his wrist. He flicks the net once and lets it puddle at his feet.

A shield thug, squat and bull-necked, with a dented round board painted a sloppy green and a weighted cudgel in his free hand. He thumps the shield rim twice and grins through a chipped tooth.

A knife runner, lean and jittery, twin knives reversed in his hands, patchwork leather strapped over a tunic that has seen too many alleys. A smear of green chalk slashes his chest. He draws a lazy zigzag in the sand with one blade and bounces on his toes.

Green scraps tie their arms and chalk streaks mark their chests. A marshal strides between teams, checks the spacing, then steps back. Nets and shield edges rasp. A gull cries over the awnings. Somewhere a child laughs, then hushes when the crowd leans in.

“Let the battle commence.”

The gong answers. The gate locks behind you with a clean bite of metal. Whatever happens next is in your hands.

[The Grand Duchy] Labyrinth of the Primordial Bloom [FINISHED]

Severin Vaust

​

Titles
[Monster], [Undead], [Monster - Mundane], [Monster - Evolved], [Necromancer] - [#2d7d38]
Noteworthy Perks: [Evolved] - gain the title evolved. Something about your physiology or aura identifies to others you are of a higher species than your peers. Gain a +1 to social exchanges with others of your racial tree.
[Menace] - An aura of fear emanates from the creature at all times that makes lower grade creatures take a -1 effectiveness on attacks against monster or monster allies.
Noteworthy Perks: Resilient C (28) [Aging/Fatigue and Exhaustion/Suffocation/Surprised]

Asset Goal: Duchy Nobility F

“Is that so?” Vaust murmured, more to himself than anyone else, as the noble from the West Empire fell upon wishful thinking. ⚐︎⬧︎⬧︎♋︎■︎♏︎⧫︎♒︎ didn’t quite care if whatever ‘creature’ was supposed to be right in the eye of the storm was benevolent or malevolent, that was immaterial. What he cared was how strong it was.

However, his ideas were cut short was Vetreus and Esther entered a type of despite, prickling each other back and forth with words. ‘The transient beings and their petty squabbles. So useless, so foolish… so entertaining.’ He watched both of them hurtling names and offending ideas to one another, cane firmly set against the ground and both gloved hands atop its orb. His expression was placid: unchanging and neutral, yet the whole thing amused him to no end.

“And another one join us.” He turned to the newcomer, the one who had just lost their bagel in some sad, tragic accident. Walking towards Penny, his shoes clicked silently against the marble floor, stopping right at the side of Fei Liu. “Doctor Severin Vaust, expert in the arcane and religions, a pleasure.” And, as he spoke, the same aura of dread exhuded from him: drops of temperature, needles pricking at the back of the neck and general weariness. All coming from someone who looked, at first glance, like another one of the academy’s staff.

Glancing sideways at the towering skeleton man, then at both Esther and Vetreus over his shoulder, he said. “Everyone with their Scrying Orbs? Good, let’s move to the gate.” Saying so, he took the vanguard, walking in front of the group, cane hitting the ground every few steps. He walked with the gait of someone used to leading, despite the entirely academic background he had presented inside that briefing room.

“Is anyone’s first time delving into possibly dangerous territory?” He asked, not even turned back. His oppressive [Menace] aura ended up making a few of the students walking across the campus to fully stop and take a few steps back. A stray cat that attempted to cross the group’s path hissed and bolted, hiding under a nearby bench. “This ‘wounded entity’ right at the heart of the ‘Verdant’s Heart’ could very well be something brought about by a cult.”

Suddenly stopping, he turned towards the group. “While that is still a baseless conjuncture of the Church, a few cults actually manage to bring about quasi-deities through rituals and sacrifices. So, not all of them are robe-wearing-buffons with secret handshakes.” His index finger began tapping against the reliquary orb at the crown of the cane, the dark, greenish pulse intensifying.

“And what I mean by that is… stay sharp.” Turning around, the corner of his lips turned upwards infinitesimally, and he resumed his walk until they reached the carriage. ‘Regardless of what is found… how fun this might be.’

[The Grand Duchy] Labyrinth of the Primordial Bloom [FINISHED]

[If you are interested in joining a setting like this, check out: roleplayerguild.com/topics/196759-ise…]

@DoubleChecker - Asset Goal: Grand Duchy Nobility F
@Book - Asset Goal: ?
@pkken - Asset Goal: Harvester Asset Mine F
@Red Hood - Asset Goal: ?
@Nakushita - Asset Goal: ?

The simmering tension in the room is a complex symphony of clashing personalities. Severin’s polite, yet deeply unsettling, inquiries weave a thread of dark amusement. Vetreus’s aristocratic jabs and Esther’s witty retorts create a sharp, staccato rhythm. Fei Liu’s quiet observations and movements add a layer of stoic grace, while Griselda’s sudden awakening brings a touch of draconic innocence to the proceedings.

Proctor Valeriana watches the exchanges with the detached patience of a researcher observing volatile chemicals reacting in a beaker. She notes Vetreus’s goading, Esther’s sharp-witted deflection, and Severin’s unnerving familiarity with the necromancer Iberis Odhir. All of it is data.

She is about to answer Esther’s final, pertinent question when a loud, distinct THUD echoes from the other side of the heavy door, followed by a moment of silence.

The door hisses open.

A young woman stands there, a flattened, tragic-looking bagel clutched in her hand and a prominent red mark blooming on her face. She enters with a determined, if slightly dazed, expression, taking a seat without a word and beginning her silent assessment of the room.
The Archmagus raises a single, unimpressed eyebrow. The carefully controlled atmosphere of the briefing has been irrevocably punctured.
Fei Liu, poised by the door, breaks the awkward silence, his resonant voice turning to the newcomer with a question.

Before Penny can answer, Proctor Valeriana seizes control of the room once more. Her voice cuts through the air, sharp and final.
"No, she is not lost," Valeriana states, her gaze fixed on Penny. "This is your final team member. Late, but present. I trust you can handle your own introductions from here."

She then turns her attention back to Esther, addressing her question with brisk efficiency. "To answer your query, Esther: yes. The possibility of encountering agents from the West Empire or zealous members of the Church is non-zero. You are to avoid engagement unless absolutely necessary. Your mission is retrieval and analysis, not international diplomacy or theological debate. Any deviation from this directive will be on your own heads."

Valeriana gives a curt nod, her business clearly concluded. "I have provided you with the necessary tools and parameters. The rest is up to your collective expertise."

She strides towards the door, pausing as she passes Fei Liu. "The transport is a standard enchanted carriage, waiting at the Luminary's West Gate. Do not keep it waiting."

With that, the Proctor exits, the heavy door sliding shut behind her with a definitive hiss, leaving the five of you alone in the sound-proofed room. The air is thick with the lingering scent of ozone, tension, and the faint, sad smell of crushed bagel. The four active Scrying Orbs hum quietly, floating patiently beside their chosen contractors, their silent, black surfaces recording everything.

The floor is yours.

[Otenzel - The East Empire] The Grand Coliseum

The straw room answers with the sound of work.

Don’s straight punches land centerline. The reed core bends, creaks, and takes the shock. Straw coughs out around his knuckles and a pale scuff blooms over the painted heart circle. The stake shivers in the sand but holds. A narrow split spiders along one reed where the wrap is tired. Solid impact that moves the whole frame without toppling it.

Varius steps to a fresh post and drives a gladius thrust home. The blade parts straw in a clean wedge, bites the reed bundle, and pops two binding turns. The dummy jolts, turns a quarter on its stake, and settles with a dry crackle. A shallow puncture sits dead center, just off the painted heart. A couple of faces at the visor slit murmur at the neat placement.

Neco-Arc

“That is how you do it, nya!” The tiny cat throws both thumbs up, all teeth and delight. “Clean hits, clean hearts. Now listen up. One thing you wanna keep in mind. You will not always fire the biggest beam in your pantry, nya. Sometimes you probe first, feel their armor, count their teeth, then you drop the big guns, capisce, nya?” Tiny paws pump the air in a rapid bap-bap-bap.

“Do not worry those pretty heads, jabronis. You always have your basics.” Neco-Arc pads to a third dummy, flexes comically, then scratches once. “Tap.” Scratches again. “Tap.” And a third time, faster. “Tap-tap.” Three quick lines ruffle the straw in a tidy group. “See. Basic attack. Then basic again. Then one more for the road. Same target gets grumpy when you keep knocking. Gets real grumpy when you all knock together, nya.”

Combat Notation for Neco-Arc's triple attack:
Action 1: Basic Attack - Strength B (5) + Natural Weapons C (4)
Action 2: Basic Attack - +1 (combo)
Action 3: Basic Attack - +1 (combo)
Total = 11 Base Effectiveness. In addition, different characters attacking the same target bump the Base Effectivness even further. If Don and Varius had attacked the same dummy, both of them could have granted an extra +1 (team-up) each, to the maximum of 13 Base Effectiveness. (Team-ups are limited to +1 for each character joining the assault)

The cat leans back like a tiny professor. “Block is a friend. Dodge is a cousin. Sometimes you hug the friend, sometimes you dance with the cousin, sometimes you do neither and let them whiff so you style on the return. But today the clock is hungry.”

From the corridor a crier’s voice rings bright. “Novice league. To the queue. First bout forms now.”

The drum picks up. The air cools as a draft draws toward the tunnel. Sand whispers underfoot. Lanterns gutter once as a gate chain clanks somewhere ahead.

Neco-Arc’s ears perk. “Alright alright alright. Hands chalked. Drinks sipped. Buns in, fangs out. Follow the coach to staging, nya.”
The little silhouette hops toward the mouth of the passage and pauses, letting the light from the far end paint a thin gold edge on the stone. The arena itself waits beyond, but not yet. Only the thrum of the crowd leaks through, steady as surf.

[The Grand Duchy] Labyrinth of the Primordial Bloom [FINISHED]

Severin Vaust

​

Titles
[Monster], [Undead], [Monster - Mundane], [Monster - Evolved], [Necromancer] - [#2d7d38]
Noteworthy Perks: [Evolved] - gain the title evolved. Something about your physiology or aura identifies to others you are of a higher species than your peers. Gain a +1 to social exchanges with others of your racial tree.
[Menace] - An aura of fear emanates from the creature at all times that makes lower grade creatures take a -1 effectiveness on attacks against monster or monster allies.
Noteworthy Perks: Resilient C (28) [Aging/Fatigue and Exhaustion/Suffocation/Surprised]

Asset Goal: Duchy Nobility F

Upon the mention of 'Iberis Odhir', and further on her being labelled a necromancer by the skeleton, Vaust slowly turned his head towards Fei Liu, peering into the empty sockets of his skull. There was a gleam of something behind the Doctor's hazel eyes. And, moving one of his hands close to his ear, glove index touching his tragus, he was silent for a beat. "Ah yes, Iberis Odhir. Quite curious how she decided to deal with the Cultists of Lord Hasufer. I'm sure you will be quite the asset during this delicate matter, considering your master. I will be counting on your protection."

His black orbs drifted from the skeletal figure to the draconian, sensing both the human and draconic esse in him from a simple glance, without the need of any whispers. His eyes slide, downward, catching the sight of the nubile creature with shimmering scales on top of his lap. ‘A draconian with a dragon as a pet… or perhaps a slave?’ He wondered, leaving that particular question unasked. “How do you find the Duchy in comparison to the western lands, Heir of the Draedora? Some of your own gods merge and combine with the one’s from this nation. Perhaps the mixture of both will hold the ultimate clue of what we search for… unless it is pure Fae.”

At the end of his sentence, his attention next focused on the Fae among them, wielding a harp, fingers plucking on its string. His lips widened infinitesimally. “Observant. We will likely need sharp eyes in this place we will delve into. And, of course, protection is never enough even more if…”

His attention went back to the Proctor Valeriana. “... if we are dealing with primeval force. Creature who can draw the prana from sources no modern mage can begin to imagine are quite… difficult to deal with.” Despite the gravity of his words, Severin looked unbothered. With one hand sliding into the side-pocket of his over coat, he produced a handkerchief. Soon enough, the piece of cloth found itself on top of the reliquary orb, being used to polish it.

“But that is just a speculation. The religious often tends to be a tad superstitious, as I’ve come to know.” With a single movement, the handkerchief was back into his pocket and the same hand reached over the table, grabbing the lacquered box and bringing it closer to himself. Without ceremony, he unlocked the box, seeing the shiny, black orbs within it. And, upon touching one of them, it gravitated towards him, floating right at his side.

Excellent. I have no further questions.” He said, content that he wouldn’t need to hold the Scrying Orb. Stepping behind the chair he had been assigned to, he waited for the others.

[The Grand Duchy] Labyrinth of the Primordial Bloom [FINISHED]

[If you are interested in joining a setting like this, check out: roleplayerguild.com/topics/196759-ise…]

The room, already cool, seems to drop another few degrees as Severin Vaust speaks. The subtle, unnerving pressure of his [Menace] is a physical thing, a psychic weight that presses on the very air. Proctor Valeriana, however, remains impassive, her expression unchanged, as if she were evaluating a mildly interesting but ultimately harmless weather phenomenon. She is, after all, an Archmagus of the Luminary, and dealing with powerful, strange entities is part of her purview.

When Fei Liu, the polished skeleton, introduces himself, Valeriana gives a single, sharp nod. The concept of a powerful necromancer sending a familiar in their stead is not unusual for the Luminary; it is a practical, if somewhat detached, application of magical resources.

Vetreus’s gruff interjection and casual disdain for Fei Liu earn a fractional narrowing of the Proctor’s eyes. Nobility from the West Empire is always a complicated factor, and his abrasive nature is duly noted.

Then comes Esther’s soft harp music, a gentle counter-melody to the tension in the room. Her pointed defense of Fei Liu and her sharp, insightful questions cut through the posturing. Valeriana’s gaze shifts to Esther, a flicker of genuine interest in her eyes. This one is observant.

Proctor Valeriana allows the introductions to conclude, letting the silence settle for a moment after Esther’s final words. She addresses each point with cold, efficient precision.

First, she looks directly at Severin. "To answer your question, Doctor Vaust," she says, her tone clinical, "the Church's assessment is, as expected, rooted in folklore. They speak of a 'primordial guardian,' a powerful Fae spirit from an age before the Ascendant Mage. They believe it is in pain. We, however, operate on evidence, not belief. Your job is to find out what it truly is."

Her gaze then sweeps from Vetreus to Fei Liu. "Your personal histories and allegiances are your own concern," she states flatly, a clear dismissal of the brewing conflict. "The Luminary has contracted each of you for your specific, documented skills. We expect you to function as a cohesive unit. Failure to do so will result in the termination of the contract and, consequently, your payment."

Finally, she turns her full attention to Esther, a hint of a smirk on her lips. "An astute observation, Esther. You are correct on both counts."

With a precise gesture, she taps the lacquered box. "This contains four synchronized Scrying Orbs. They will record everything you see and hear, as well as basic atmospheric and magical energy readings. This data will be transmitted back to us in real-time. It is your primary method of 'data retrieval.'"

She then gestures to the silver-etched walls. "And yes, the warding is substantial. The nature of the Verdant Heart is a highly sensitive matter. The West Empire has shown interest in the region, and the Church would prefer we did not meddle. This conversation, and the data you retrieve, is for the Luminary's archives only. Discretion is paramount."

She clasps her hands behind her back, her posture radiating finality. "Your transport to the edge of the rainforest is arranged. You will depart within the hour. Are there any final, pertinent questions regarding the mission parameters?"

[The Grand Duchy] Labyrinth of the Primordial Bloom [FINISHED]

Severin Vaust

​

Titles
[Monster], [Undead], [Monster - Mundane], [Monster - Evolved], [Necromancer] - [#2d7d38]
Noteworthy Perks: [Evolved] - gain the title evolved. Something about your physiology or aura identifies to others you are of a higher species than your peers. Gain a +1 to social exchanges with others of your racial tree.
[Menace] - An aura of fear emanates from the creature at all times that makes lower grade creatures take a -1 effectiveness on attacks against monster or monster allies.
Noteworthy Perks: Resilient C (28) [Aging/Fatigue and Exhaustion/Suffocation/Surprised]

Asset Goal: Duchy Nobility F

It had been a long slumber, too many aeons to count on. Yet, even the deepest of sleeps eventually need to come to an end. Plucked from his millennia rest, ⚐︎⬧︎⬧︎♋︎■︎♏︎⧫︎♒︎ had awakened. And, as soon as he opened his eyes, the whispers of the dead came singing into his ear, an always useful melody. “Ah, the transient beings have found something of interest, have they? Very well, I shall pay them a visit and see if whatever they have found is worth my time.”

Even within the nation of mages, creating a false identity had been rather of a child’s play to a creature such as him (Alternate Identity D + Disguise D) and, for the moment, he hid his actual name to take on the mask of Severin Vaust. And so he walked, unafraid and unbothered amidst the capital of the Grand Duchy, Aslan, cane clicking against the intricate sidewalk that, every so often, glimmered with mana from the magic circuits that permeated the city.

“How curious what they have created thus far.” He murmured to something, with the condescension of an adult measuring a toddler's toy, as he saw the magical creations that existed in Aslan for the very first time.

Soon enough, he would find himself within the briefing room, sitting comfortable in one of the chairs at the table. With his slender legs crossing in a figure four, one of the necromancer’s hand caressed his mustache, while the other held the cane-like catalyst. Every so often, the reliquary orb at the crown of his cane would pulse in a low, dark green. Whoever stood at least 10ft from him would find a certain discomfort: drops of temperature, needles pricking at the back of the neck and general weariness (Menace affects all characters bellow Character Grade B).

Before his eyes could wander towards his would-be companions, they locked onto Proctor Valeriana as soon as she walked into the chamber. He quite didn’t like her lack of etiquette for introductions, but said nothing, the only cue of it being one of the corners of his mouth scrunching slightly. ‘So many years, and they haven’t learned the bare minimum of basics. No wonder kin hunts and kill them.’ He thought to himself.

“Seems like the usual data retrieval from some arcane phenomenon still not quite identified.” He concluded from what the woman had just said, fingers slipping from his mustache to his chin, while his expression turned pensive. “What would this ‘wounded entity’ be according to The Church? Some sort of lesser divinity? A demon? A wayward spirit?” He asked, without a single flinch of his face (leveraging Religion C).

“Oh, but where are my manners?” A wide smile opened on his lips, uncrossing his legs and standing up from the chair he sat on. A thump echoed throughout the chamber as his cane hit against the polished marble floor. “I’m Doctor Severin Vaust, a scholar of both the arcane and religion. It is a pleasure to make everyone’s acquaintance.” He lied, it wasn’t a pleasure. Not yet, at least.

[The Grand Duchy] Labyrinth of the Primordial Bloom [FINISHED]

[If you are interested in joining a setting like this, check out: roleplayerguild.com/topics/196759-ise…]

The air within the Ethereal Luminary's designated contractor briefing room is sterile and still, a stark contrast to the vibrant magical energy that hums through the rest of the academy. The walls are polished white marble, etched with faint, silver runes that dampen sound and prevent magical eavesdropping. A single, large obsidian table dominates the center of the room, its surface reflecting the cool, enchanted light from the ceiling like a dark, placid lake.

You arrived a few minutes ago, taking a seat at the imposing table. You are not alone. Several other individuals, presumably the other specialists hired for this contract, are seated around the table with you. They are a varied group, each carrying themselves with an air of quiet competence, but their specific appearances and skills remain a mystery for now. A palpable silence hangs in the room, the kind that exists between professionals sizing each other up before a difficult job.

The heavy door to the room slides open with a near-silent hiss, and a stern-faced woman in the deep blue robes of a Luminary Archmagus strides in. Her name is Proctor Valeriana. She doesn't waste time on pleasantries.

"You are the specialists we have selected," she announces, her voice crisp and authoritative as she places a lacquered wooden box on the table. "The task is simple in description, yet perilous in execution. We require you to investigate a phenomenon in the eastern rainforests known as the 'Verdant Heart.' You will enter it, proceed to its epicenter, analyze the source of the disturbance, and retrieve whatever data and material samples you can."

She pauses, a faint, dismissive smile touching her lips. "The Church believes a 'wounded entity' is at its core, a conclusion based on faith and divination. We require a more... empirical conclusion."

She gestures broadly to the assembled group at the table. "Your team has been chosen for your unique and varied skills. We expect you to succeed where others would fail. Your payment will be rendered upon the successful delivery of your findings."

Her gaze sweeps across each of you, sharp and analytical. The room is silent, waiting. This is the moment to speak, to ask questions, to introduce yourself to your new "colleagues," or to simply remain silent and observe.

What do you do?