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As you have no doubt already come to grips with, you may call me Hokum.

Moderately Useful Knowledge

Of late, I have been involved in 1X1 RP's, mainly via PM. There are indication however, if only upheld by this sentence alone, that I will join group role plays when enticed by a measure of stimulating appeal. I mean... it's not out of the question. I may even start my own group Role Play, and it might not be entirely unreasonable to assume I have considered ideas for such a turn of events.

I also like cookies.

Here are some of my role play preferences.

So... feel obligated to PM me; ask about my day, invite me to role play, tell me off, or simply throw me an undeserved compliment. I'm not really fussed which of these you choose.

I hope you have learnt a great deal from reading this Bio.

Most Recent Posts

In Defiance 1 day ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Forgot to mention when I made my post that my characters interaction with a Myti wasn't necessarily directed at your character specifically (Since I'm against controlling another players character in any way), which is why I didn't describe the Myti in any detail. So I just thought I should let you know in case you got the wrong idea about me possibly handling your character XD. I just thought I'd leave it up to you to decide if you want your own character to be that specific Myti or not. It's all good.

Far Beneath the Surface of Vos

(The Badlands)

The screams of Camilla’s agony carried out through the underground passages from the small metal room she was in. Her arms were braced at her side with metal cuffs, her legs apart and knees and ankles also braced with cuffs as she beared down to deliver the last of three offspring. As she yelled out for God’s mercy and finally the last of the three abomination passed from her birth canal, she eased back in her angled bed attempting to regain her breath until the door to the room opened.

In came one Kradam, seen only by a distortion in the air like a faint mirage moving across the room and stood above the three infants, which squirmed, writhed, and twisted on the floor. After a several minuted the mirage stooped low, collecting the three infant into its transparent embrace and went to stand next to Camilla.

“Would like to see your children?” He spoke, leaning closer.

Camilla struggled, drawing a deep breath to release her despise, and screamed out at the top of her lungs – “Get those fucking things away from me!”

The Kradam moved a small distance back, and in an unperturbed voice, said; “We thank you for your gift to us, Camilla. In our appreciation, you will be free to turn to your home in a short time.”

“Like I even had a choice in the matter.” she snarled at him. “Just let me go home. Now!”

“Soon.” He replied. “Rest. We will release you in time. Sustenance will arrive for you shortly.”

With that said, the mirage-like figure turned and left the room with its prize possessions in arms.

Two Days Ago

Border of Zandor and the Badland’s

Sandi Shon and Bran Wisken, two Zandorian soldiers patrolling the border of the Badland’s, were near ready to hand their shift over to the next to be on duty when Sandi noticed something out of place. She stopped in her tracks, holding to the side one arm to stop Bran as well, and gave a swift nod in direction of the oddity she had noticed twenty meters into the Badlands from the border.

For a minute they both stared, eyes squinting in the lowering sun to make out just what they were seeing.

“Is that a body?” Bran asked, lifting his AMP Rifle in a ready position across his torso, and pressed a little green button on the side.

“Looks that way to me.” Sandi agreed, as she too readied her rifle and pressed the red Button. “Keep your setting on Sonic.” She suggested. “Mines set to Particle”

“Already done.” He assured her, and gave a wink. “Great minds think alike, am I right?”

She shook her head with a little laugh, saying; “Why do all the Zandorian men hit on the girls every chance they get?”

“You don’t put out enough, clearly.” He jested, as they started over to inspect the situation.

On closer inspection, the body was female, lying in an undignified fashion face down in the charcoal colored dust; malnourished, naked, dirty and sprawled out like she had simply just collapsed on her face. They’d left footprints behind in the dust, trailing off into the Badlands in a staggered formation.

“Wow….” Bran muttered, his eyes following the trail of footprints into the distance. “Tell me you’re thinking what I’m thinking. This is actually happening….?”

Meanwhile, Sandi was squatting next to the body. She placed a hand on the girls shoulder then pressed two fingers against the girls neck, before lifting her wide eyes to Bran. “Looks that way to me. Warm. Got a pulse. She’s alive.” She said, then carefully turned the girl over for a better look at her face. She was young, not a day over twenty, brown hair and pretty, despite the dirt and sunken malnourished condition of her face. There were laceration on many parts of her body, and red marks at her ankles and wrists. “Tell them….” She looked up to Bran again, sincere concern stunning her face. “Tell them somebody’s returned from the Badlands….”

In a fluster, Bran almost dropped the palm-size electronical devise he pulled from his pocket, allowing his riffle to swing by its strap as he then turned the device on. It came alive with small procession of beeps and he opened a signal to base with a touch of one finger against the screen.

“Speak!” Said a male voice at the other end.

“Sub-officer, Bran Wisken, reporting!” Bran replied I haste, close to stammering his words.

“I know who you are,” The voice at the other end replied in a tired tone, “what’s the problem, soldier?”

“We’ve found something, sir!” He declared almost yelling with excitement, then lowered his tone to a moderate key, “It’s a girl. She’s alive. Looks like she’s returned from the Badlands, sir.”

There was a moment of radio silence, before; “Repeat that statement, Officer Bran.”

“We’ve found a live body of a girl.” Bran said. “Looks like she’s returned from the Badlands.”

“No one has every returned from the Badlands,” The voice replied sceptically, “Are you certain of what you’re telling, Officer Bran?”

Bran looked out at the long trail of footprints once more, and replied; “I’m pretty fuck’n sure, sir.”

The Present

Camilla sat in a chair that had both arms, backrest and seat padded with imperial cushioning. She was dressed in a white, freshly pressed shirt and pants. Her recently cut and impeccably groomed brown fell about her shoulder, and her pretty green, big doe eyes scanned the room she was in. Despite her new and aliquant retire, the marks on her face, neck and hands unmistakably told of the trauma she’d been through.

The room was the Sovereigns private living quarters. A nearby table on her right was set with all manner of food dishes and drinks and decorated with various flower types, while the large open window to her left allowed a cool, refreshing breeze and sufficient light to fill the room. In front of her, seated on a chair of equal quality to her own was Her Eminence Goaldinhoe, dressed in a full length purple garment, a crown of violet lilies was perched on the golden locks of her hair, her hands placed congenially in her lap.

Following a quiet wait to allow her visitor to adjust to her new surroundings, Goaldinhoe strengthened a smile, saying; “Welcome to my home, Camilla Blaid.”

With no need to further relax, Camilla replied a small nod and added; “Thank you, Your Eminence Goaldinhoe.”

“No,” Goaldinhoe rebuked her kindly, “You may call me Faith. I would like very much to be your friend.”

Camilla gawked at the sovereign awkward. “…Alright then. Why Faith though?”

“Faith is my first given name. Goaldinhoe, as you know, is my Sovereign identity.”

“Alright then,” Camilla managed a smile of her own, “Nice name. Unusual.”

“As is yours on both accounts.” Faith smiled. “How have you been keeping since your return, Camilla?”

“I’ve been okay,” Camilla replied, not sounding convinced, “I would have liked to have seen my parents, but… apparently they’re dead.”

“I prefer to think of them as missing.” Faith told her. “And try not to worry, my child, I am still doing all within my means to find everyone lost to the Badlands. But your parents were brave. You should know, your fathers venture into the Badlands to rescue you was not only brave, but in a way it paved a way for a new era in my Empire. If it were not for him and those who ventured into the Badlands by his side, we would not have many of the technological advances we have today.” Faith paused a moment, a touch of despair tainting her smile. “Alas, we have yet to find a way to reach our missing civilians and soldiers.”

“I’ll help any way I can.” Camilla said, staring with conviction at the sovereign. “Any way at all.”

“I have no doubt in the strength of your young heart,” Faith assured her, “and this is one of the reasons I have brought you before me today. Just you and me.”

“I understand.”

Faith nodded appreciatively, and added; “Camilla. I want you also to know that everything you tell me here today will held in the strictest confidence. You have no need to fear any personal matters or matters of embarrassment to yourself being shared with any other soul on this planet. You have my word as your sovereign. Any information you share will be applied to my efforts in bringing our enemies to justice in the utmost and anonymous manner.”

“I understand, and thank you.” Camilla said.

“So… shall we begin?” Faith regarded the table of food. “Or perhaps you would enjoy something more to eat first?”

“No, it’s fine, I’ve eaten enough this morning. “And thank you for letting me live in your Tower of Meth. It was very kind of you to do that for me.”

“The honor is my own.” Faith assured her. “So shall we begin with the hard questions? Perhaps getting them out of the way would be the best thing to do at this point.”

“Absolutely.” Camilla agreed. “Fire away.”

With her smile slightly fading, though keeping her congenial appeal, Faith leaned back in her seat in a pose to relax, and spoke casually: “As you know, my leading medical physician’s and psychological analysts have evaluated your condition.”

“Yes.” Camilla confirmed with a slight squirm of unease.

“I do hope they were not too invasive? I will have their heads.”

“No, it’s fine. They had to do what they had to do. I understand.”

“Very good.” Faith said, and continued. “Their physical evaluation of you shows that you have recently given birth. Is this true?”

Camilla rolled her eyes with a grind of her jaws. “Yeah, that’s true, but it wasn’t human.”

“And apparently neither are you, well… at least not anymore.” Faith said. “Now, isn’t that the interesting part? You now have what we can only describe as foreign DNA linked with your own human DNA chains. My scientists have seen nothing quite like it before.” She paused, folding her hands in her lap. “Why don’t you tell me what happened, Camilla? Take your time….”

Camilla took her time. Looking to the side to stare at a bowl of fruit for a while as she gathered her memories of events. At last she turned her sights back the sovereign, saying;

“They call themselves the Kradam. I never saw what they look like. They have some sort of shield that stopped me from seeing them…. Anyway, they kept me locked up in a small cell for a long time. It seemed like years…. When they finally let me out they planted some things in my ears.” She flicked back her hair, turning her head for the sovereign to acknowledge the device protruding from her temporal bone, then sat back in her seat to say; “It makes me understand their language.”

“I see….” Faith said, clearly captivated by the story. “Please, do continue….”

“So uh…” Camilla rubbed her nose with one finger as she thought about the next things to share; “They told me they wanted me to help with a problem they had. But they didn’t really get into detail about what the problem was, and I didn’t really have any choice in the matter.” She sighed, thinking some more, and added;

“They said I had what they needed – whatever that means – and told me they needed to use my reproductive system to help create some sort of new thing for them. I still don’t know what they created, but they said my DNA would react properly with a DNA they had been synthesizing or something like that. I’m not a scientist though. I don’t know what they meant, I can’t even remember properly what they said. Anyway, long story short, they impregnated me with whatever they’d made. I was pregnant for a while and held in a room the whole time. Then when I gave birth three of these... things came out of me. They were disgusting. I couldn’t even look at them.” She started to cry, wiping a tear from her face with the palm of her hand before concluding;

“That was only like a week ago or something, then they sent me home.” She swallowed hard, looking to the fruit bowl then back to Faith again, seemingly confused as her voice broke with emotion. “I didn’t know they changed my DNA as well.”

Her eminence Goaldinhoe had lost any remaining trace of a smile while listening to Camilla. Her folded hands were now gripping uncomfortably to each other as her deeply troubled eyes glared at the girl before her. “… and you never once saw them…?” She asked in a whisper.

“That’s right.” Camilla wiped another tear from her face. “They touched me a couple of times though. They didn’t feel right…. They were cold. Rough and kinda smooth at the same time. They felt like…. steel or something.”

“And did you see any other – any of your friends? The countless other Zandorian who have gone missing?”

“Never.” Camilla shook her head sharply.

“Camilla….” Faith said softly, taking a moment to recompose herself; “There is another matter I would bring to light at this time. Perhaps you can shed some light the matter?”

Camilla sighed, preparing herself for any manner of confronting question. “Of course, just ask.”

“Very well,” Faith obliged, a small smile returning to her face. “By our records you were seventeen years of age when you entered the Badlands. By any standard count, that would make twenty now. However… my physicians have informed of a particular anomaly they discovered in your cellular structure. According to the many tests they performed on you, all of which repeated to ensure no mistakes were made, your current cellular structure remains as a female Zandorian still in her mid-teens. And I must confess….” Faith finished with a sigh of her own; “sitting here before me today, you do not have the face of a twenty year old. So tell me, Camilla…. Is there anything at all you might be able to share, anything that might be able to explain this phenomenon?”

Camilla scrunched up her face, clearly baffled by the sovereign’s words.

“I have no idea.”

Zandor’s Leading Military Science Base

Lab 19.

Doctor Entil Blike, dressed in his white lab coat with black hair and glasses, stood away from the computer panel and looked apprehensively, possibly even fearfully, at the Jerin Loc, his colleague standing beside him. Jerin had blond hair, tightly curled, and dressed in the same manner as Entil, but was wearing himself a look of stressful anticipation. After regarding each other for a while in this manner, they both turned their gaze back at the monitor in front them, which was displaying the most recent information of the DNA they had found inside Camilla.

“There’s no denying it.” Entil swallowed hard, removing his glasses to rub one eye with the palm of his hand. “It has a silicone property.”

“But that’s… that’s not possible.” Jerin said, his expression changing to one of puzzlement. “Silicone life forms can’t exist – and even if they did…. They can’t combine with a carbon based life form. None of this makes sense. I literally don’t believe my eyes right now.”

“You don’t need to tell me that.” Entil replied.

“But it’s just not possible….” Jerin said again, attempting to reassure himself of every piece of knowledge he’d obtained in his years of study.

“…I know.” Entil agreed, turning to look at his colleague with a note of bewilderment. “But we’re still going to have to inform the Sovereign about what we’ve discovered here.”

“You can do it.” Jeril told him straight, removing his coat and walking towards the exit of the lab. “I haven’t slept in three days. I’m going to bed. Good luck with that.”

In Defiance 1 day ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

The Chant of Despiun

Said to be created by winebibbers in the city of Masuta soon after the Massacre at Despiun,
and is now often celebrated in the form of song throughout the land of Akripola.


𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖚𝖓, 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖚𝖓, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖚𝖓,

𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝕬𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖆 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖙𝖍 𝕰𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖚𝖙𝖆,

𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖛𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖍 𝖒𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖞,

𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖒 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖉,

𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖊𝖔𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘,

𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝕬𝖐𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖔𝖑𝖆 𝖋𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖆𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞…

…𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖘𝖔 𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉.


The Massacre at Despiun

To say this particular day in Dispiun started out like any other would be unconscionably insincere, because it actually started out really bad. At the break of dawn, over two years ago, the residence of the tiny village of Despiun were rudely woken from their slumber by an invasion of disfigured humanoids - or were they mutations? No one really knew which, but that didn’t really matter since no one there lived long enough to appreciate the knowledge in any case.

The horde of heinous beasts made short work of the village, and no one could have called it a battle, it wasn’t, which is why it went down in history as The Massacre at Despiun. These beasts were powerful, without morals and void of discretion, mutilating and dismembering the men, the woman, the elderly and the young alike, and destroying any home that may have stood in the way of the obvious good time they were having. Even the local witch, known for her prowess in combat magic, was apparently caught by surprised and, oddly enough, defiled in her bed before - or possibly while - being ripped asunder. It was said all forty six members of Despiun met their unlikely demise that day, but that wasn’t altogether true. There was one survivor, number forty seven; a part human teen by the name of Devlin.

Devlin was fortunate enough to suffer from insomnia and left her bed to go for a walk, still some distance from the village when the event took place. From her position in the woods she heard the cries of her people, which provoked a hasty retreat to the village, only to discover the aftermath of death and destruction that awaited her.


Trauma affects each person differently. In Devlin’s case, the initial and overwhelming horror of what she witness soon gave way to emotional death, like a part of her soul had been ripped away. She went numb, standing amid the ruins of her home, the tears on her face becoming dry while the empty glaze of death stared back at her from the decapitated head of her father. She stood there all day utterly unmoving, though eventually her eyes shifted from the gaze of her father and dispassionately observed the shadows of day move across the bloodstained ruins of the village, until eventually the spectrum hues of sunset faded to the black velvet blanket of night that gradually scrolled across the world, before the depth of the universe then yielded to the pastel hues of the following dawn.

It was the glare of the morning sun striking down from above the treetops that finally had Devlin budge from her daylong stance, yet by this time her state of being had well and truly established itself as something more than emotional death. Sure, much of the numbness remained, only now it carried with it the disturbingly bitter taste of disdain, mingled with the curios sensation of being in a dream.

She wasn’t fully aware of her actions. Everything seemed distant. Her memory of events became fragmented by her disjointed consciousness while she commenced to sifting through the ruins of her home, yet somehow managed to gather a few important items before making her way out of town. At this point she felt weightless, as if she were floating, aimlessly wandered the countryside in her dreamlike state for several days before inevitable collapsing in the Western foothills of the great mountain range of Epir.

Several hours followed before someone arrived to Devlin’s aid. They were tall individual adorned in a patterned black and purple vestment that covered the entirety of their person, allowing nothing more than the emerald glow of their eyes to shin though a slot in the vestments granite-like mask. For a small while they stood motionless, looking down upon her strewn body among the leaf litter and dirt of her landing before stooping low and turning her over for long, curious study of her features.

“Infant….” Their thick, gravelly voice seemed to cause a small breeze to stir the leaves of the surrounding trees, as one slender and leathery grey finger protruded from the cuff of their sleeve and pressed in on her neck for several seconds. Retracting their finger to the confines of their sleeve, they continued to loom for a while longer with a soft rattling sound being emitted from their person. Then, as the rattling faded, they reached out with both arms and lifted her gently from ground, cradling her close as they straightened their posture and carried her away up through the foothills.

Devlin woke to find herself inside a room with rock walls and dimly lit by the flames of a fire burning within the artlessly constructed barrier of a fireplace near the centre of a smooth, stone floor. By all accounts the place looked like a well-kept cave, swept, furnished and the dark opening of an archway at both ends. To her left on the far side of the room was a long wooden box stuffed with dry grass, which was much the same as the makeshift bed she found herself lying on - but to her right, close by, and making her rise in alert to a seated position - was a tall individual slumped in a chair at a crudely crafted timber table.

Remaining on the bed, Devlin fastened herself back against the wall, eyes widening with trepidation at the sceptical she was witnessing. It could have been a man, had it not been for the large, glowing emerald-like eyes, the small slot for a mouth, the softly quivering flap that covered a small hole in the center of its face, the two gill-like slots on either side of its bald head, and the coin sized protrusion in the center of its forehead that moved in a slow pulsating rhythm. It’s arms, like its legs, were slender, yet the dense fibres of their muscular tone could be seen pressing tautly beneath surface of it’s thick and leathery skin, which over all of its body was a greyish blue color with faded markings like the speckled bands of an aging snake.

She opened her mouth to announce her concern, but her voice got lodged in her throat as the recollection of her father’s dead eyes flashed like a clip from a horror movie through her mind. She was suddenly at an impasse, utterly unaware of what to react to; the freak seated before her, or the heavy memory of the terror she had left back in the province of Despiun. Her hands clenched tight to the dry grass of her bed in a display of her anguish, as her eyes became heavy, her face paled, and the sound of her grinding teeth grated the atmosphere of the room with discomfort.

Raising gradually one arm, the individual at the table extended three of its bony finger, pointing them at her in the company of a light and somehow comforting breeze that circulated the room while the small slot of his mouth parted to pronounce the gravelled, though gentle tone of his words: “Will not hurt you…. Infant.”

Against all probability, Devlin felt her anxiety lessen, if only a little, yet enough to have her stop grinding her teeth, relax the grip she had on the dry grass, and formulate a coherent response.

“What are you?”

Having already lowered his hand back to the table, the strange individual releasing a purr like sound, as if pleasured by her young, slightly rasped voice, and then replied. ‘’I am one.” They paused, and added; “I am Madasincori”

“Madasin….” Her voice trailed off, either she was having difficulty pronouncing the name or she lost her ability to want to.

“Ma… da….” They said, the grate of their voice clearly denoting the more convenient form of their identity.

She stared for a moment, eyes seemingly out of focus like she may have temporarily been thinking of something else before, almost abruptly, she repeating the name in its shorter form.

He gave a slight nod to confirm.

She continued to inspect their person, as it now occurred to her that they were mostly void of clothing, besides that of a small patterned loincloth that closely matched the tones of their skin.

“Are you…” She paused to reflect a note of caution for posing the question, “…a man?”

They shifted the tiny black pupils of their large green eyes to one side considering an appropriate response, then peered back at her diligently. “I am he.”

“Okay….” She uttered, as by some unknown means she found herself unable to remove her eyes from his. They were locked in a silent stare. She felt a peculiar sensation, like an invisible finger was penetrating the bone between her eyes as the pulsations of Mada’s forehead began to accelerate. The rate of its beat steadily increased while the intrusive force between her eyes seeped deeper, applying pressure to her brain like a thick cloud extending its fingers through avenues of her mind. It was then that she inexplicably became aware that this creature… this man, he was entering her thoughts, perusing her memories, invading the sum of her life. Yet, for reasons too peculiar to explain, this violating force did not upset her. She was quickly feeling at ease, relaxed, even sedated as her eyes glazed over and her mouth dropped open, strangely pleasured by this connection he had made with her.

Before long, while she continued to quietly indulge in the pleasure of his intrusive presence, the protrusion on his forehead reached the point of a rapid, uncoordinated rhythm. The sound of its fibrillating beat could now be felt and heard like a disjointed musical dance through the recesses of her mind, as the table he was seated at began to tremble, the room began to quake while shards of rock began to flake from the walls and the flames of the fire rose high, lapping at the ceiling with its upstretched tongues – and it was then that she heard him speaking again – but not with words born of his mouth; the voice of Mada had entered her head, as though his very own thoughts had merged with her own –

…I have witnessed your sorrows… the tears of your heart mingle with my own...

…Your kind is weak… limited...

…Yet… I will restore you... I will raise you up high…


…I will make you all you can be….

Two Years Later

Monday Night

It had been no less than an eventful journey since leaving the asylum of Mada’s cave several weeks before, an enlightening path of trial and battle that inevitable led her to this point. She had come a long way, not only in her recent trek, but also from the traumatized child she once knew. That former version of herself seemed estranged to her now, like a character from the faded pages of some old book she once read.

Tonight the stars seemed brighter than usual, blazing in a spectrum of dazzling hues and playing host to a swollen silver moon, while the sweet scent of lemongrass filled the air and hairline flickers of violet light danced about her fingers as she stood at a distance, gazing out from her hood toward the charming lights of Nadska.

She’d been standing there for some time, perched upon the rubble of a farmhouse long since destroyed while surveying the area, admiring the view. But it was getting late. She was feeling weary. Regardless of loathing the idea of interacting people, she was looking forward to sleeping in a real bed for a change, and that was something only civilization could provide. With a small flick of her wrist, the strands of electrical current rescinded, fading as they trailed up the leather of her sleeve and disappeared above the crook of her arm. Stepping down from the platform of ruins, she continued as usual to avoid the road and headed down to the riverbank, following the water’s edge until arriving a stone’s throw from the walls of town.

The two guards posted at the gates were wary at first, clutching to the hilt of their swords as they watched her approach, but they soon relaxed when she came to a stop a few meters away and tipped back her hood with one hand to reveal her face. She didn’t however utter even one word as she regarded them both with an even look then took her stare to the doors of the gate itself. For a while the guards remained quiet too, giving each other a few peculiar glances.

“Are you some sort of crazy woman?” One of the guards finally spoke, pausing to deliver a mocking laugh. “You’re either insane or stupid as a bat to be venturing about at this time of night.”

“It must be close to midnight, girl,” The second guard added, glancing at the sky as if the stars were informing him of the time, “The gates of Nadska were locked hours ago.”

Devlin held her peace, absent of expression, giving each guard a second glance and continued to stare at the gate.

“Myti got your tongue?” The first guard asked.

She remained quiet, unmoving, staring at the gate.

The second guard rolled his eyes at the other and added a ridiculing shake of his head. “You really think she’s stupid or something?”

In response to the question, the first guard took a step closer, tilting his head to scrutinize Devlin, who now shifted her eyes to meet his, narrowing her stare with obvious disdain. The look was abrupt and intense enough to startle the man, causing him to step back into position against the wall.

“Wew there, my friends,” The second guard joked, words broken with a hardy laugh, “She might kill you with her eyes if you’re not too careful!”

While Devlin returned her stare to the gate, the first guard overcame his embarrassment with an uneasy chuckle, and turned to his colleague with a heavy shrug of one shoulder. “Now what?”

“How the hell would I know?” He replied, with a shrug of his own.

The two guards fell silent, watching Devlin keenly as she continued to stare at the barrier, occasionally glancing at each other until, at last, and apparently coming up with no better resolve, one of them turned and knocked hard on the gate, calling out to the gatekeeper inside –


With a heavy clunk the doors of the gates shuttered, followed by the grinding of chains that started drawing open the doors. When sufficiently ajar, Devlin returned the hood to her head with the flick of one hand and proceeded toward the entrance.

“Keep your weapons to yourself.“ The first guard warned her. “And enjoy your stay, crazy woman.” The other one added, as she strolled on by and entered through the gates of town.

The tavern was a dingy joint, smelt a lot like stale ale and urine, but nonetheless had a cosy appeal. Given the time, there were only a handful customers when she stepped in the door. From the darkness of her hood she assessed the sparse group then headed to the bar to order a meal.

“What would you like, miss?” The barkeep asked benignly. He was a stout little man with beady eyes and perfectly round face, barely tall enough to see over the countertop. “We don’t have much on the menu at this hour, but the drinks are aplenty. Name your poison!”

“Milk.” She said. It was the first time she’d uttered a word to another human in years, and for an instant she found it kind of weird that the first word she’d mention to a man was the name of some dairy product. Still, she kept her voice at a hush, loud enough for only the barkeep to hear. “And something to eat.”

“Buttermilk or regular?” He replied with a gracious smile.


“And uh…” He said, pausing to deliver a playful wink. “Will that be leftover stew, or leftover stew? I’ve also got a little leftover stew if you’d like that instead?”

She stared at him, unwilling to respond.

“…Then stew it is.” He said, his face drooping a little at her lack appreciation for his joke.

“And a room for the night.” She added, flatly.

“Must be your lucky day,” He remarked, “just so happens we only have one more room available. That’ll be two silver and four copper pieces in total.”

“I have no silver or copper.” She told him, reaching into a pouch on her chest and producing a blue gem that she placed neatly on the counter for him. The sapphire was the size of a full human tooth, reflecting the light of the tavern with a sparkling array of blue and hints of purple and green. “Perhaps a sapphire would suffice?”

The little man went pale, gaping at the stone with his hand reaching up, fingers twitching as they hovered above it, for a moment too scared to even touch such a beautiful thing. “Is that…” He sounded to be running short on breath, “A par…. parti sapphire?” He forced his eyes to look away from the gem to meet with hers once again. “I-I-I I’m sorry, miss, I don’t have change for something like this.”

She grimaced at him, displaying the beginning of her impatience. “I don’t want change. Just give me the food and room.”

“A-A-As you wish!” He said, and quicker than the eye could see, the barkeep snatched the stone from the counter, clutching it so tight in his hand that his knuckles turned white. “Is there anything else you’d like? A hot bath? A massage? A foot rub? Maybe a gentleman caller to your room – I’m available later!”

“No.” She said, curtly.

“As you wish!” He said again, still gripping the gem like his life depended on it. “Go find yourself a table and your meal will arrive momentarily! Oh- and one more thing -” He looked around a little dazed then reaching below the counter. Straightening up he slides a key across to her. “Your room key, miss.”

“Careful you don’t lose that.” She said, glancing at his clenched fist as she took the key and turned to walk away.

The meal was disgusting. Tasted like someone literally dropped feces in it, and the smell was the same. She forced her way through a few mouthfuls prior to pushing the bowl to the far side of her small table. Fortunately the tall cup of milk was fresh and she savored the goodness, holding each sip to linger in her mouth before swallowing. Half way through her drink, however, she was taken by the unmistakable feeling of being watched.

While an old familiar rage boiled up inside, a few currents of violet electricity moved over her fingertips as she set the milk down, turning her head slowly to find the source of those staring eyes – and there it was. A Myti. Sitting a few tables away… just sitting there, staring at her with those cat-like eyes and apparently having nothing better to do than not minding his own damn business. Devlin hadn’t had a lot of dealings with Myti in her life, back in her home village they were only seen on a rare occasion when passing through, but her knowledge about the Myti people was enough to understand that this particular cat was a male and therefore, from what she had heard, almost powerless in the ways of magic.

She used one finger to peel back the rim of her hood enough for him to take a good look at her face, then she narrowed her eyes and curled her lip, snarling wickedly as an array of electrical currents flickered wildly around her eyes.

The Myti’s was apparently surprised, but more importantly threatened by her reaction to him. His eyes widened, blinked a few times, his tail swept about in an awkward manner, then he promptly looked away as if nothing had happened.

With intent accomplished, the currents of electricity subsided with the rage that had boiled up inside her. She resumed drinking her milk, finished it, and then got from her seat to head to her room for the night. As she passed the bar on rout to the stairs, the stout little barkeep was behaving erratically, muttering to himself while patting down his person and looking around in a frantic manner. Apparently he had lost something important to him…. But she didn’t stop, she just smirked softly and continued on her way up the stairs to her room. She could really just do with some sleep.

Stardew Valley is a good game. Unfortunately I somehow lost all my game files.... Let's just blame Microsoft or something. The coolest dude to ever walk the Valley has been lost to cyber oblivion.

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In Defiance 4 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Dartbored Fairy

Updated/changed a number of things in my character app. Hope it's still ok.
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