ERode

Wingless: From the Cracked-Open Sky

Well, stuff like that is typical about my RPs nowadays. No one likes to read TL;DR OOC posts that number to two thousand words, prolly. Because it's Casual and all that.

http://Reality - OOC

And then there's the Averus version.

"FUCK CREDITS. GIMME YOUR MEASUREMENTS."

Edged Horizon

The Citadel of Koestace, a massive castle-like structure that serves as a town in and of itself, was situated on the sheer face of a mountain, having being carved out of that side of the mountain many years past. Supported by heavy beams that were reinforced both with steel bolts and magical spells, it was both a masterful feat of engineering, as well as a popular tourist destination for those who could not afford to purchase houses within that castle-city. Heavily defended and considered one of the safest places in the world, Koestace houses not two, but three Gods of War, as well as being the headquarters of the Astopolian Grand Masters and the home of Knight Commander Farnor. Whereas the capital of Illiserev is drenched with riches, and the capital of Dansila is filled with knowledge, the capital of Astopol is a fortress that could only be considered impossible to break into after all its defenses are readied. White marble walls and silver ornaments were all around, giving the city a sense of purity that was coloured with mountain side vegetation. Birds made their homes in the tall spires of the citadel, while humans strode about with their daily tasks.

It was in one of those towers that overlooked the city in which the most influential people in Astopol rendevoused. The High Priestess Cairyn and the Knight Commander Farnor, while the second-in-command of the Grand Masters, Savaniel Volduriaz, acted as a mediator and a recorder for the talks that were to ensue.

Standing on the marble balcony, the priestess took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air to quell her thoughts about running out and simply pretending that none of this ever needed to happen. She looked down below at the people who were still going about their lives with no worries about the future. The news of the attack on Cykes would reach their ears by the end of the day, but for now, they could live without worry. There was no undercurrent of fear for now, even if there would never be any cause to fear for their wellbeing regardless. They lived in Koestace, after all.

The Knight Commander, a man reaching his early thirties, leaned against the entrance of the balcony and saw something else. Those that were below were too content, too lax. And while all of Astopol's strongest forces were concentrated in this place, their other towns could be in danger. The witches have already started their attack on Dansila. The vampires, no doubt, will then have two options. They will wait and watch to see their rivals eventually become weakened in a prolonged conflict against Dansila, or they will choose to attack Dansila as well, to get rid of one of Astopol's allies. He had suggested the reallocation of the military forces many times in the past, but ultimately, the consensus remained the same: the public would rebel against such a decision. The High Priestess, though her heart was in the right place, was too kind. Or maybe it was because that was her role that she was so kind to the people.

In the past, the Astopolian army was spread out so that there was a detachment that could guard nearby towns, quickly reacting to any outbreak of the rift-beasts. Now though, they had gone back to the time of heavily fortified capitals, leaving everything to the Monster Hunting Bureau and a collection of what were essentially mercenaries. Garrisons and mandatory military training had also been removed, cutting down on the percentage of the population who could fight when it was needed. Even more problematic was the reports from Sergeant Sarier Soutcrux, that of the birth of the Musphelheim demon. He had reported that it was still in an infantile state, but even then, Dansila would suffer heavy casualties if the Musphelheim demon chose to act on behalf of the witches.

And then, there was the presence of Aiv Recourt, the traitor, who now fought for the witches.

No matter how he thought of it, it would be best for Astopol to immediately attack the witches, wouldn't it? If Dansila and Astopol combined forces, even the Musphelheim demon should become killable. His eyes hardened. All decision-making power lied in the hands of the High Priestess, who had the support of the people. She would not be convincing him. He would have to convince her.

“Well then,” interrupted. Savaniel, bringing out a pen and a scroll, “High Priestess, Knight Commander, shall we begin the discussion to decide the future of our country?”

---

In central Talze Utera, the only true 'neutral' zone in the miasma-filled wilderness, there laid a perfectly circular pit, with a rectangular chasm extending from one side of it. It was above that massive pit that the four witchmothers, respected leaders of the covens that inhabited Talze Utera, chose to meet, every one of them coming with some sort of protection in one way or form. On that day alone, through the sheer presence of the four of them together, the black miasma parted ways, allowing the meeting to occur in bright sunlight.

The Witchmother North was first to arrive, a woman in all black, with one sword strapped to either hip. Wearing practical, simple clothing, she bore the aura of a serious, militaristic leader, and there was good reason for that. Northern Talze Utera was closest to Astopol, as well as the Vampire Courts. It could be said that the most battle-experienced witches came from the North, forsaking the art of summons and mastering the usage of 'living' weapons instead. The bottom of her boots were lined with wood, the wood of her first wand, which she now used to levitate through the air. Below her, standing at the edge of the pit dauntlessly, were three members of the almost extinct werewolf race. They were powerful, savage warriors, and she was a powerful, skilled spell fencer.

Second was the Witchmother West, a demure young lady who rode on a simple broom, dressed in a dress of dark greens that accentuated her tawny hair. Shrouded in a veil of light, it was obvious that she was a healer, less of a witch and more of an apothecary who dealt with enchanted potions and the growth of magical plants. Though she brought no one to protect her, there would be none who would try to do anything. They were in direct sunlight, and she was one who specialized in nature magic. It would be extremely foolhardy to do anything in such situation, against someone who could survive being stabbed through the heart. A healer, a salvemaker, and one who, through magic, attained invincibility.

Soon after, aboard a sea-faring vessel that now flew through the sky, the Witchmother South, attired her in her flamboyantly decorated dresses, appeared at the helm of that galleon. Abroad the ship were a number of other species that had pledged their allegiance to the witches. Sirens, gorgons, lamias, fishmen, goblins, ogres, wyverns, a whole menagerie of different beasts were aboard the ship of the Explorer Witch, who, unbothered by the politics of the world, chose instead to map every inch of it. Her magic glyphs glowed an ember-red with the usage of such quantities of mana, but she showed no sign of exhaustion. Instead, she simply smiled her pirate-like smile at North, a sign of not-all-so friendly greeting.

And finally, the Witchmother East arrived, an impossibly large snake with a dollhouse on its head. With a ripple of muscle, the snake extended its head over the chasm, holding itself there. With a quick turn of the knob, the dark-haired witch and her escort exited the dollhouse, stepping on the soil-covered scales of the snake. From below, the werewolves growled at the scent of a familiar nemesis, but a quick glare from North silenced them. There were hostilities within the group, but for now, there will be nothing but words that shall be exchanged between the four.

“Good day, sisters,” began West, the only one who could say such words without any hidden meanings, “As you've all should know, it appears that one of our own has instigated an attack on the capital of Cykes, and now Dansila has begun quite a harsh persecution of all Talze Uteran students within their boundaries. Is there any among us who could provide any more facts regarding this?”

North coughed once, before replying, “Such an attack will most definitely not be done by one from the North, and I doubt that you would have something to do with it as well, West. While East would be the most suspicious, considering how she currently holds two very dangerous...people in her realm, my council and I find it more suspicious that the attack was done so flawlessly. It appears that it happened while the more prominent members of Dansila's guard were out, and the two Gods of War were on patrol elsewhere. As a matter of fact, it appears that every person who may have minimized casualties from that attack was elsewhere. Perhaps East could shed some light onto this, seeing how you're the to Dansila?”

“My my,” East said, a coy smirk on her lips, “I must say that you should be more courteous when describing my guests, North. But I'll humour you and your paranoia for now, my dear. There was no sign of any magical interference that caused those individuals to leave. Either the attackers were lucky, or they were someone who had significant sway over Dansila.”

“Then, the source is from someone in Dansila? One of the Sidosa Board?”

“I'm more curious as to why you didn't ask a more important question, North. The attack happened simultaneously as two rift-beasts also appeared. Doesn't that remind you...”

“The Bakery Town incident, was it? The one in which two Talze Uterans arrived just as a rift-beast had. It does seem like it's occuring too quickly and too often to merely be a coincidence.”

Adjusting her seat on her broom, West suggested, one hand pressed against her lips in thought, “Then it's a witch that has learned how to control the appearance of rift-beasts?”

“Or maybe not a witch at all. I would imagine that, if they could summon rift-beasts, it would be easy for them to summon normal beings as well. Which...reminds me, North. Weren't you looking into what that Cygna woman was doing?”

“No, from what I've gathered, East, her summons do not relate to the creation of talentium after those summons are slain.”

“Ah, well, a dead end then. And South, why are you so quiet? Mind imparting some knowledge of the great explorer to us ordinary witchmothers?”

“Oh, East, West, North, I like how you're all so...simple. Or perhaps, linear? Nevertheless, it should be simple, shouldn't it?”

The Witchmother South pointed towards the East, towards the ruined city of Cykes.

“We track down the summoned rift-beasts, hunt down the location in which they were summoned, use the magical residue there to get a sense of the person that summoned them, find that person, and then thoroughly slaughter them for ruining that fine land of education.”

“It would also prove our innocence and prevent any losses, now wouldn't it?”

---

Surprise surprise, the cursed elf was crazy enough that Lenz decided that he should actually just ignore her for the time being. It wasn't like she was the main reason for him being here, after all.

“Not a prison, mi'lady. The captain is correct in his assumptions that Vance is in an obscure location. More specifically, he's in the bottom of a hole, on a mountain that no one lives in. Death by existence, they call his punishment. It's not heavily guarded, to keep the actual location unknown, but I would wager that they DO have many spells that function as alarms to warn guards whenever someone gets too close to that 'prison'.”

http://Reality - OOC

yo ho, scrubos

Wingless: From the Cracked-Open Sky

Character List
Southey Doe, Amnesiac Goldilocks
Clark Dumont, Fugitive Teacher
Kathrine Overture, Spiderweb Empress
Albert Shin, Shota Butler
Carbon, Babysitting Beast
Isis Juneau, Noblesse Gate
Rinshan, Crippled Bird
Felix Lee, Phantom Thief
NPCs
Kairn Lightpost, Commander of the Daedalus Outpost in Era'Thet. Former Hold of 'King Lear'.

Wingless: From the Cracked-Open Sky

From the cracked-open sky,
here lies an audible voice.
A parting word in a drop of water,
as the brightest star says,
"Goodbye."

For as long as recorded memory stood, humans have lived on the back of whales. Floating in the ever-changing sky, they coexist with other animals who formerly lived on the land, staying in pods of these massive flying whales, each one an independent, sustainable island of earth and mass in its own way. In a world where the sea has devoured all of the land, the wingless live on the backs of giants, a world where only those who can fly have the right to do the impossible.

Yet, once upon a time, it wasn't like this.

The world was of three: land, sky, and sea. The winged of the sky developed their kingdoms above the clouds, possessing the ability to generate supernatural phenomenons. Untouched by the activities of the land, they stayed as beings who were magnificent and divine, lead by dragons who were millenniums old. The ancients of the sea too developed their civilizations in the bottom of the ocean, considering themselves patrons of the waterkind, prospering in massive coral reefs and forests of seaweed. Though the magic of their elders, those who had tentacles, were of a darker nature than the winged, they were a just race. And then, those of the land, lead by the humans, a race younger than others, and yet, expanded the fastest. In just a few centuries, they have either tamed all others who lived on the land, or produced the weapons that allowed their inferior bodies kill those who resisted their rule. Though they were once also capable of using magic, they feared it instead of worship it, going about the motions to eradicate the witches and warlocks living amongst them. Technology replaced magic, and with technology came industrialization.

The kingdoms of man grew larger and larger, their population increasing exponentially. Unaware of those who inhabited the sky and the oceans, the humans crowned themselves as the masters of the world. Waste spilled into the oceans. Smoke drifted up into the sky. The lesser races of the ocean and sky were hunted and feasted upon as humans enjoyed new delicacies. More centuries passed, and men now lived in buildings of steel and concrete, believing that the greatest threats to humanity could only come from the inside, that the only things left for them to explore was space.

They were wrong.

A millennium of watching their homes become ruined had tried the patience of both the ocean and the sky, but it was ultimately the ocean that made its move first, every member of their kind banding together to eradicate the humans who carelessly ruined their own civilization.

It was only the whales who had thought that humans deserved another chance, but even amongst that race, it was but a percentage that believed that they should save and preserve the culture of the land. For whales had also been hunted, and many of them also sought vengeance.

In the span of three days, water levels rose all across the Earth, swallowing the continents whole. Only a few percentiles of the human race remained, and with them, only a small selection of the land's races were spared the indiscriminant attack. In the end, only a few of the Great Whales, giant leviathans who only surfaced the sea once every decade, chose to ultimately spare the humans. Yet the ocean was no longer a safe place for those of the land, and the dragons who ruled the sky were unwilling to intervene, for they too saw no point in saving a species that had only proven itself to be greedy monkeys that stole from other kingdoms.

The sea was no longer safe, but the sky was neutral.

With no other choice, one of the oldest races of the ocean left their homes in an act that could only be considered an irrational miracle. They rose above sea level and flew.

In just a few dozen years, they mastered the art of magic on their own, earning the respect of the dragons.

In a century, they grew five times their original size, and have recreated 'soil' on their massive backs.

In another twenty years, they taught humans how to live without utterly destroying everything.

And now, three hundred and ninety-three years after the flood that turned the planet completely blue, the story of the wingless begins once more.

---

Era'Thet, like every town, is named after the whale that it is built upon. A recent addition to the pod of Regana'Hier, Era'Thet had only been a member for three years, having joined the group of flying whales for unknown reasons. Originally devoid of human life, it is now the home of roughly three thousand humans, living in a sporadic settlement consisting of well-built, stone buildings, but only simple, dirt roads. Other than the essentials of water and electricity, it is very much a developing town, and still has much work to be done before it could be considered a proper, modern town.

The landscape of Era'Thet itself is that of a healthy forest on mountainous terrain. While the concept of a 'tall' mountain doesn't exist, there's no denying the fact that much of the land is sloped up and down in hills. From there, many canine-esque creatures lurk, four-legged beasts that dance between trees, being both a feared predator and the most common form of game meat. Many picturesque waterfalls and streams are also present, coming from lakes located at the highest points of the whale's back, which would eventually fall into the stomach of Era'Thet, nourishing it with vast quantities of rainwater it accumulates whenever it chooses to wander into a cloud. However, there are no fish in those streams.

Currently, the only form of long-range communication is through radio, and the majority of residents travel via bicycles. While the domestication of animals has been rather successful as of late, most sources of meat still come from the wild, and much of the back of the whale has yet to be explored. The 'Whale Shrine' has yet to be found as well, making it nigh-impossible for humans to communicate directly with Era'Thet.

---

Humans are, generally, existences incapable of utilizing magic. Without as many plentiful resources as before, humans are now at an extreme disadvantage in this world, even with the help of the whales that they live on. Thus, in order to help them gain more independence, the whales have created the first artifacts in the world capable of allowing anyone to use magic. Though it could be considered more as something that is 'grown' off the whale, just like terrain and fauna, these artifacts, dubbed 'Artificial Wings', give humans the ability to fly, as well as one other ability. However, only humans who have not yet reached adulthood are capable of utilizing these Artificial Wings, ultimately limiting the percentage of the human population that is capable of becoming the 'Fae', users of the Artificial Wings.

Artificial Wings, first and foremost, take the form of crystals, often worn as a piece of jewelry. These crystals, when activated by someone with the potential of becoming a Fae, manifest in three forms, depending on the stage of development for a Fae. Stage I is the manifestation of armor over one part of the Fae's body, as well as granting flight in the form of being able to 'walk' on air as one would on land. Stage II is the manifestation of a Fae's full armor, as well as their Artificial Wing's innate abilities. Stage III is the manifestation of the Fae's weapon, which acts both as an extension to the AW's abilities, as well as a powerful physical weapon that doesn't rely on magic. Though it always varies, it takes a year for a talented Fae to bring their AW up to Stage III.

The abilities of the Artificial Wings are rarely something that is only destructive. Instead, more often than not, they will be utility-based abilities, such as changing the state of an object to what it was twenty hours ago, or accelerating the speeds of an object. Abilities are accumulated from generation to generation, meaning that, as long as the Artificial Wings are continually passed down from one Fae to another, the abilities and parameters of an Artificial Wing will continue to grow stronger. This isn't the only way to strengthen an AW, however. Provided that two Artificial Wings originate from different whales, it is possible, through a long process, to fuse the two together, creating a new pair. Such processes are rarely done, however, simply due to the fact that the strength of a fused Wing doesn't necessarily equate to the strength of two separate Wings.

Often, unawakened Wings are found in random places deep in the wilderness, but occasionally, they will be the source of odd incidents. When such things happen, or when anything that humans normally can't handle happens, it is the job of Daedalus, an organization composed of Fae and former Fae, to resolve those incidents.

---

The name of the organization in Regana'Hier that manages all Fae, Daedalus could be considered a special operations force composed almost fully of Fae and former Fae. Tasked with both the special education and management of those with the potential to become a Fae, all candidates are run through a series of mental and physical tests, While it certainly isn't a necessity for a Fae to be physically and mentally fit, it should be noted that Artificial Wings act as a multiplier in terms of the increase to physical strength. There may be some who are blessed with high multipliers, but ultimately, the weaker you are normally, the weaker you are with Wings. These tests also serve as rankings in terms of priority in receiving Wings, which is generally a good indication of when one will become a proper Fae, a magical warrior who fights for the sake of humankind and whalekind.

Generally, Fae work in teams of around three to five, and are managed by a co-ordinator who acts as their support during missions. Though the coordinator is rarely seen in combat, it isn't unnatural for them to be in peak physical condition, with at least six years of experience in some form of martial combat. After all, all coordinators are originally Fae, and while they mainly serve as a strategist, they are still more capable than other humans in terms of combat prowess. Teams are often given free reign over how they choose to approach an order from the central command of Daedalus, but punishment is swiftly and harshly dealt out to those who breach any rules.

Currently, the Daedalus outpost in Era'Thet is such that there aren't really any teams. Only a bunch of Fae and coordinators, still unclear as to how they're supposed to group up. Daedalus modus operandi, after all, highly favors the independent and the self-disciplined.

---

Humans
Humans are...humans. Outside of certain things such as having an average lifespan of 130 years due to the influence of the whale's magic, they're relatively the same as they've always been.

Whales
Massive, island-sized behemoths of the sky, they house a variety of lifeforms on their backs, and have a hard, crusty outer skin that protects their inner skin from the rays of the sun. All the 'lakes' and 'tunnels' of the whale's back ultimately lead inside the whale, which is why falling into it...won't be a very nice experience. It is unknown what exactly whales eat, but regardless, they're able to reach amazing feats, both magically and physically. On the back of every whale is a Whale Shrine, allowing humans to communicate with their whale directly. Outside of that, they communicate via a sequence of low-frequency groans. To humans, whales are idolized in the same manner as the dragons are to the winged: that of saviours and teachers.

Dragons
Considered the strongest race above the ocean and below the heavens, Dragons are considered gods. With a lifespan that reaches upwards to three thousand years, they are immeasurably wise and the first existences to have attained the holy grail that is magic. Guardians to all the winged, they act as teachers for civilizations that they deem intelligent and responsible enough for the usage of magic. However, it should be noted that Dragons are not 'born' Dragons, but evolve into becoming such. Similar to a serpent, a proto-Dragon is the product of the reproduction of two Dragons. Immeasurably weak, the only reason a proto-Dragon survives its first five hundred years of life is due to its parents. The next five hundred years is for the proto-Dragon to explore the sky by itself, growing stronger through its own experiences. Needless to say, proto-Dragons are generally treated with the same respect one would give to a prince, but some races still view them as a delicacy of a meal. After one thousand years of life, proto-Dragons grow wings, and their magical ability increase tenfold, truly joining the ranks of gods.

---

A few questions to ask yourself before you join.
Will you stay devoted and post without me nagging you to do so?
Will you give me your skype and your soul?
Will you post at least two paragraphs worth of text each post?
Will you use proper, gentemanly English?
Will you take advice and criticism like a man, not like a female dog?
Will you actually do what I tell you to do for the sake of plotting?
Will you make a character that isn't so anti-social that logically, they won't even be talking to anyone?
Will you PM your CS before you post it in the IntChek or OOC or whatevar?

http://Reality - OOC

Averus gets custody. It's only the wisest decision, with crow-girl being totally apathetic, Beringer being a corrupt politician, and Ulysses being Ulysses. XD

http://Reality - OOC

Be posting today. So yeah. That's gonna be a thing.

Wingless: From the Cracked-Open Sky (Flying Whales and Magical Mecha Kiddies)

I may forgive.

But I never forget.

Wingless: From the Cracked-Open Sky (Flying Whales and Magical Mecha Kiddies)

Yeah. Just note that every time you join my RP and then leave it a week later, you become more and more like Tatsua. Which isn't a good thing, nowadays.

Seriously though, I'm sick of this disappearance shit.