Fallenreaper

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Toxic Diamond said
I'm talking about the dark mageblood.

It's the same as any Mageblood which extreme emotions or stressful events can cause a student's magic to wake up. The magic mechanics in the CS explains it a bit:

All Races within Tiien have mages, the percent different between each one, and each individual is able to manipulate one Mage Blood. The Arcanite within each individual is as unique as their blood, without it they are unable to manipulate Tiien’s magic or even live. Mage Blood in particular is a concentrated source of Arcanite, and nearly 50% of the blood which diminishes whenever one uses his/her magic. Now not all those able to perform magic learn to become mages or possibly ever realize they have such a gift throughout their whole lives. Usually magic is discovered through stressful events or emotional trauma resulting in either a lack of control or minor spark in magic. However it’s possible for magic to fade from an individual if not regularly used over long periods of time, unique in each individual, but rarer cases have been known to cause the opposite. Instead of losing their ability, there’s a sudden magical spark that soon grows out of control on their own due to the novice’s inability to control them. With these mages it’s required they seek training in hopes to learn to control their magic or risk one day falling victim to ‘Blood Sickness’.

If you mean the alignment, Student must learn how to first control their novice decay and increase it's power until Gray, the Nox teacher, sets up a trip to Craggville which is home to Aarem's Cragg. The Cragg is basically a crack in Tiien that is endless and more akin to a beehive with tunnels that lead down, filled with Aarem's little...experiments, far worse then the Syphis. Students must navigate their way down, each one divided into either a Guide or Warrior role depending on what each Player wants and each have their pros and cons. However both must work together if they want to make it out alive. Once they reach the center, the Nox itself, there's a tower were the final confrontation happens and all students that arrive must face. Afterwards you're allow to align with one of the three Nox sections.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Toxic Diamond said
Question, is there a specific age of awakening, or is it different for everyone? Also, how does an awakening take place?

Are you talking about Mage Blood or something else, Diamond?

Stargate - H.M.S Tempest

We need to do this at some point in the RP...just camp fire moment. :p I found a neat picture of SG-1 over the net and thought I share it's awesomeness, also Sep I'll be sending a PM your way with an idea soon.

Apocalyptica

Remmy

Remmy liked the situation less and less by the moment.

It was going to be a shit storm from the look of it and that seemed to be the story of his life, every god damn time. He did choose this after all but didn’t mean he had to like the result. His fingers seemed to wring the Winchester from the building anxiety, bright blue eyes narrowed over the Blackhawk lower bit by bit nearby. The black form of the chopper lighted upon the nearest open spot, a deafening roar from the propellers whipping the surrounding air as out pops seven. Seven tall, rough soldiers dressed in identical vests, filled with pockets, and almost uniform in appearance unlike the motley crew they had cornered. Each sported a trained guns over them and one over the poor miscreants in back, the gloved fingers rested upon their triggers while time ticked by. By this time, Remmy had realized Simon’s body was gone. Where the hell the man went or how it was possibly he could only guess but he sincerely hoped it was safer than this cluster fuck situation.

Reminded of this, Cajun’s breath seemed to still in his throat leaving him breathless. The endless pounding within his ears seemed to overwhelm the chopper’s vibrations, fast and powerful, unable to outdo his little racing muscle’s efforts. For the moment, Remmy tried to look them into the eyes. Only to be met with by a cold, black cover across their eyes and steel nervous to shoot first. They were trained and organized. This made things worse Remmy didn’t like to admit and hoped against running into.

When the slaver glanced over to Remmy, the Cajun’s eyes met his and pleaded with the man not to something stupid. Yet there was fear. A familiar thing in Apolcalytica seeped from the man, the type Remmy encountered many times before. Now the Slaver’s common sense was more in tune with a corner animal then any human and for that reason, the same decision a trapped rat bites the larger cat, the man opened fire. So much for his luck, Remmy thought bitterly as his feet rushed into motion. He was the one closest to the truck front and promptly ducked around it. Bullets ricocheted once, twice and three times off the hood. Each one made a loud ping, right beside Remmy in the process causing him to pick up the pace. Boots scrambled, kicked up dirt in his haste, when Cajun’s back pressed firmly against his makeshift barricade.

“Shit!” The Cajun cursed under his breath.

His head and body buzzed with adrenaline, face turned to spot the taller man jerked back and hide behind a rock. White flashed from his gun barrel towards the uniformed troops. No rapid, sloppy shots but pure purely trained pot shots. It seemed the man had been military or had some formal training the way Remmy notice he kept tight with the weapon.

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Remmy’s head peered up only to immediately duck farther down, his fingers tighten about the Winchester. Then the sound of darting feet caused his ears, fast and panicked. Again he peered out around the truck this time to see one of the Slavers rabbiting. The short, fat man scrambled across the shooter’s sight line like a damn fool. Quickly he pulled his gun to the side then popped off a few shots, a faint hope to buy the man some time. Yeah he was a Slaver but Remmy wasn’t a killer. That’s God’s job to sort them out when they met him, be them good, bad, or ugly.

Twin burst of blood declared direct hits and the man tumbled into the dirt, his painful yells screamed when Remmy been caught reloading. His finger worked fast and precise, never fumbled once. It didn’t matter. In a pitiful way, the man’s hand went for his gun and shot off one round. The bullet clipped the shoulder of a man just after they put the miserable ass down. A bullet to the head, his figure slumped over and went still. The Cajun’s reload ended while he heard gun fire again. His ears seemed to deafen by the gun fight, mainly because he was on the losing end, before he kneeled in on one knee. Again he popped up and returned fire once. His aim short and not aimed to kill. Merely to maim or discourage return fire, Remmy didn’t aim to give these home boys a reason to flat out kill him. At least one right away. He worked like a machine, up then down, up then down in rapid procession with each return fire. The taller slaver seemed to hold his own as well until Remmy saw the red spread from the man’s leg, staining the shirt and pants in his crouched position. It seemed during his move to better cover, he took a shot. Now he was slowly bleeding to death.

Remmy’s eyes peered over and took a chance. His feet kicked out from the truck’s cover, darted right ahead in hopes to make. Fires scattered dirt in his wake while the Cajun’s feet moved faster, his boot taken long strides and ate away the distance. Not fast enough it seemed. Pain erupted in Remmy’s head as his leg crumbled underneath him, the last bit fell into a sloppy scramble just another round buried itself right into his side! Remmy swerved around and pushed his body smaller, fitted against the hard surface of the rock. His lungs seemed unable to breath, his chest seized up thanks to the myriads fire spread from his wounds.

“Brah, I should shoot ya here and now for bein’ stupid!” The Cajun hissed through gritted teeth. Bite the pain back, Remmy forced his mind to tend to his injuries. First the leg one since it was easier to examine. He hunched over, fought not to instinctively curl into a painful ball. His hands gripped the jeans around the thigh, a loud rip when he jerked them apart and examined the wound. It had fortunately gone through the thick muscle and straight out. That meant it would heal without the added damage from his rooting around for the bullet or risk of infection.

Now for his side, his figure shifted to lean on his elbow. His eyes looked at the bloody mess the bullet had caused, mostly result from the seepage rather than actual damage. Again the sound of ripping clothes reached Remmy’s ears when the shirt came next. Fuck…Remmy cursed, his face looked away and settled back.

“Shut the fuck up and just sh-“The man never finished. His words cut off when a bullet clipped the rock edge, a fresh wave of fire exploded. Instantly he ducked down, his hand undid the clip. Remmy’s eyes dipped to see the man only had a few shots left: 3 to be exact.

Remmy just chuckled for a moment. The man’s scowl looked at him yet it didn’t stop the Bayou boy’s amusement at the situation. In his head, it couldn’t get any worse. Sadly, it seemed the man didn’t share his thoughts as the Slaver leaned towards the rock edge, his legs coiled and ready. This got Remmy’s attention and his eyebrow raised in question, slightly wondered if the man aimed to go for the ammo reserves in the truck’s back seat. It might’ve been a short distance yet most the guns were likely train on the gap between, aimed to kill at the first man to try. He, himself, got lucky just to be shot one.

Before Remmy could stop him, the man shot forward towards the truck and was stopped just short. Six or seven shot rang out, the Slaver’s body hit in several spots that sent him wheeling sideways. The man didn’t rise. His body relaxed between waves of pain and eyes closed to the silence. When he heard Simon’s voice during the conversation, Remmy let a smirk cross his lips. He couldn’t help comment under his breath, “Clever bastard. I told you would want to live for her.”

Bracing himself for his role, Remmy’s hand quickly emptied his gun and set to the side. His hand skirted along the rock face to aid his trip onto his feet. Pain once more rippled through his body and set his body on fire, his leg threatened to crumble only to be forced to stay. His shirt torn at the side, covered in grime, and bloodied beyond identification, Remmy was a hellish sight to see. That much he was sure. The puzzle pieces seemed to slightly fit together now after he heard Simon bullshit his way, impressively, from being shot on sight. How long that luck would last would remain to be seen. If asked, Remmy had a pretty good idea how to reply for his lack of military clothing and out here, even shoot. Though, like with a few of his lies, it was likely farfetched a bit. Currently being shot was a reasonable excuse for not properly addressing Simon within the moment or really speaking at that moment.

Blood Act~ Lore /CS Thread

Naga Lore

Amaryllis, Arch Matriarch explains the Naga history to Ellys, a huntress and possibly future Matriarch.

Allow me to begin at the beginning, the start of our race and its origins. Like all races and creature, we once were ruled by a God named Helkyso. The God, like most, was born from a divine union between the God of Body, Flesh, and Vitamancy, Baltam, and Goddess of Love, Passion and Lust, Xiah, when the world was barely crawling into its first year. Each immortal had their own form and his was one of a half human with seven serpent tails, his head made from three different faces. Left was wrath, right was sorrow, and finally the middle settle over with compassion and love. He was one among many thousands of other newborn Gods and Goddesses, grandchildren descendent from the Three Originals, their relationship to him vast from step to full siblings had all grown with him when the world grew older. It wasn’t until that unfortunate day, which his life was shattered in a blink of an eye. War broke out in their world, the newly formed Gods rebellion against their creation source, spilling divine blood across their battle field while thousands of Gods fell, including two of their enemies from the Three Originals, in the name of victory leaving the mortal world in a terrible state. It was after the fighting had ceased, punishment for Helkyos’s choice to stay neutral, he was then banished into the mortal world.

Ice and snow, numbing flurries had threatened to take his life from his diminished form while the Victors sought to wipe all evidence from the face of the world. When the harsh winds had ceased, the ice melting and the world had awoken from its white slumber did Helkyos emerge from his hibernation deep within the earth’s warmth to slither upon the surface again. After a few decades, the Naga God felt loneness weight heavily upon him and soon he aim to solve it. From his ribcage he ripped flesh and bone dripping with his blood then set about forming the first Naga female, Xanaphya. He took part of Sea and shaped her figure, his flesh, bone and blood gave her life as well as essence and power. As oldest and first Matriarch, she watched and recorded Helkyso then used his divinity to repeat the process two more times. With the Sky, he creating, Dyesa, the first worker, and with Earth came the youngest Kyiira, the first huntress. Once the event was done, Helkyso slumped over utterly exhausted after using most of what was left from his remaining divinity gave the three minor Goddesses life. It was the last sister that slithered over to him to aid him. She cradled his head in her gentle grip, her hands glowed fiery white, letting her own magic pulse through him and slowly mended the broken God. Together, Helkyso and his three brides created thousands of children offspring that brought life to the desolated world.

However, new creatures had started to spring up during the passing time. When his children started to pull away to explore the world, Helkyso fears of being alone and forgotten were renewed within the God. He first attempted to coax them back him but it failed, miserly. Despite his brides’ pleads for patience and tolerance at their children’s rapid curiosity, the God acted hastily. In the name of his love, Helkyso killed thousands of his children much to his brides’ horror. Their tears ran to mingle with their child’s spilt life, the strongest and most grieves was Kyiira because it was her brood that had suffered the greatest casualties. Mourning their loss, the three knew to allow Helkyos to continue his rampage would likely end their future of their children forever. A plan hatched in Xanaphya’s mind, one that would call upon all three of the minor goddess’s powers and skills to destroy their maker and their husband.

Xanaphya had started by seeking out a special metal, housed deep within the earth, along with bone and surging it with her divine power. It was then she passed it off to her sister, Dyesa, who also poured her power with each strike upon the raw materials. She pounded and molded it for seven days and nights to forge it into a handheld weapon, a dagger, for which would kill Helkyso. In their fortune, the Naga God was distracted in his raging war upon his children and the Goddesses’ plot went unnoticed. When only a definite handful of Naga descendants were still alive, Kyiira’s task had arrived when she coaxed the God into bed, stopping his rampage for a night, before she delivered the killing blow. Her energy combined with her own Vitamancy made the dagger glow, empowered with the force able to keep the God, and then brought it into his scalp during the throes of their deceptive passions.

His body thrust out. Its coils crushed the Minor Goddess’s ribs and threw her from him, the first huntress crumbled into their bedchamber floor but unable to pull her eyes away until the light in his had died. That was the day Helkyso died and the Naga were reborn, the God’s last gift was one that aided the population into healing. Kyiira was the last of his brides to birth Helkyso’s offspring. Wasting little time and desperate to ensure he would never rise again, she cut out his heart into four pieces and then scattered them to the world’s unknown corners. In time most Naga have forgotten why we view extreme emotions with such dislike and bane, but the Matriarchs will always remember. It is our duty, bestowed upon us by Xanaphya and one of the oldest creatures living on the world, to remember and prevent the past from repeating itself again. For now, no one knows where the heart pieces lie. Or the immortal dagger, its power lost to the world and Naga, but it is say when it is needed the dagger will choose its seeker and wielder.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

EliteCommander said
Every time I see Mesa Gaan, I end up reading it as Maar Gan.

I adore you ♥ right now.

-on a Side note: Beware of the Naga Page...it's a heavy read. :p

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Pyromania99 said
Now that you say that, I want to make another Alanian. . . But from Featherfall. . .

Mesa Gaan is one of 3 Naga cities in Yarsomere. :p

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

EliteCommander said
I was more referring to the smaller things we do in the RP. For instance, I've made a few posts that add a few details on the culture of clan Dyre, and mentioned a few details of life in the scorched lands. I copied them over into a document for my own reference, but for other things, other people might need to go back and reference them. Essentially, I think it would be good to have a place to reference the smaller details that don't necessarily fit into any of the above categories, but could be important at some point.

Well, I would have to see a sample of what you mean really to completely understand what you mean. Mind sending me a PM example to help my understanding, please?

Blood Act~ Lore /CS Thread

Ghannos

Important City: Farthan

A large tree at the heart of Ghannos land, the Elven city is built around the surrounding area and local trees. Made from a wounding web system of intertwine tree branches into bridges, each connected to a platform that rests a building or house.

Landscape: Completely filled with forests, namely created by the vast Ironwood trees, that created dense and lush scenery. For the most part, their leaves shield the inhabitants from the harsh sun’s rays and create a green light filtering through the thick canopy. There’s a small meadow area that line between the forest edge and the mountains.

Culture: Wood Elves are most dominating race here, their lives revolve around nature and to live in harmony with it. Rather isolated from Eania, Djarkel as well as the rest of Tiien by the mountain ranges to its southern border making trade difficult save for those braving the climb.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

EliteCommander said
Alright, will we be able to provide links/summaries of information that could be useful that we establish in the future? Hopefully, without putting all of the burden on you to keep it updated.

You can do that to your CSes if you wish, just let us know you're making changes and where they are in the sections. PC race creators/settlement creators are in charge of their own races/settlements, namely how detailed or not they chose to make them so they also have individual posts. PC listings, world information, etc, is listed there as well. If you have something you want to add then pm it to us and we'll go through it then add it if it would be ideal, unless say it's something of a more PC creation then likely you'll have to make a post on it.