Inlaa

Faction:Martian Front (The Luna Wars Were a Thing)

Is dere gonna be a FITE?!

The Lucenrai Chronicles: The Fallen Kingdom

"You don't have one," the thuggish looking boy muttered, shoving his oversized cloak at the dwarfish young mage. His voice was shaky with nervousness - or fear? "I can give you this if you let me stay. There is nowhere else to go. I don't want to leave."

Sigh. Gabby didn't actually sigh, but her brain made that sound in her head. She eyed the offered cloak for a moment, then reached out to take it, feeling it over. It had certainly seen better days, and it would probably drag behind her unless she cut it... so she gave it back.

"Let's say you owe me a favor instead, hm?" Gabby said with a quirked eyebrow. "A favor is worth a bit of silence, I think. Of course, I doubt anyone will ask questions at all once we're on the road. Just try to be less..."

Less what? she wondered. Less frightening? Less shady? Less like a killer on the run? In truth, she wasn't sure what to make of the boy now. He still seemed the very picture of a criminal, but he was very afraid - and probably desperate - of that she was sure. Of course, such fright could make someone kill another...

"Less of a mess," the mage settled for, throwing her hand up into the air as she couldn't find the right phrase. "Look: if you pop out of the wagon now they'll assume you're a stowaway. If you jump out later, they might assume you're a thief, bandit or worse. You should walk alongside the caravan with everyone el--"

"Alright, we're moving out!" shouted the sergeant-or-whatever with the scruffy face. Gabby named him Grouch. The wagons started moving immediately.

"They certainly don't waste any time," Gabby grumbled, stepping away from the wagon. "Don't do anything stupid, alright? If anyone in this motley bunch of nobodies is going to be handy in a scuffle, you're likely to be one."

Mostly because you're probably a killer on the run, she thought to herself.

With the wagons moving, Gabby had to pick up her pace. It wasn't the sort of pace she liked; her short legs weren't built for striding. Still, it was better than being left behind...

She noticed another caravan guard - he seemed Grouch's equal in grouchiness - riding up to a trio of chatty individuals, snapping something to them about "not a social club." She took that as her cue to look very busy walking and glancing at the countryside. Yes, she was so busy and so very alert. Yes.

It was going to be a long day.

Faction:Martian Front (The Luna Wars Were a Thing)

---

Free Workers of La Parranda

---

La Parranda, President's office - 10:00 p.m.

Martin was worn out, completely worn out. Though the walls around him were painted a soft green and the floor was made of good plastiwood - the city was, at least, recovering enough to start rebuilding that which was destroyed - his clean if plain surroundings did little to assuage his aching head. Though he had not been breaking ore from the walls as he did in the past, the talks with the officials of the government, with Marshal Asturias, and the preparations in the factories had been more than enough to make him wish there were more hours in the day so he could sleep.

But there was still so much to do. Wearily, he opened up the holovid monitor on his computer, watched it flare into life, and then began preparing a series of messages.

---

Private Channel Message, La Parranda -> TSDC Corp.

Secure message send from La Parranda...
Scanning for malware...
Decrypting...
Sent Message to -> CEO
Mr. Marvalic,

This is a time of troubles for all of us on Mars. There are threats to both the corporations and the colonies alike, so it seems natural we should try to find dealings with other political entities that may be beneficial to both parties.

La Parranda desires trade with the Talon Security Development Corporation. We have resources which would doubtlessly be valuable to you, and you have weapons which would be equally valuable to us. Let us arrange for a digital meeting between us. Simply name the time and date; I will be present for negotiations.

--Martin de La Parranda, President of La Parranda

--END OF TRANSMITION--

---

Private Channel Message, La Parranda -> Eudaimonia Colony

Secure message send from La Parranda...
Scanning for malware...
Decrypting...
Sent Message to -> Prime Minister
Prime Minister Mayhew,

There are those that would make victims of our colonies. They perceive the fall of the Earth government as an opportunity to profit. We should be prepared to deal with such vultures.

La Parranda will be sending a delegation to your colony as representatives of La Parranda. While the exact terms they present will not be detailed in this message, La Parranda believes we will be stronger if we stand together against whatever threats may come. A defensive pact needs to be arranged.

--Martin de La Parranda, President of La Parranda

--END OF TRANSMITION--

Do The Eagles Circle The Mountains? - A Eastern "Middle Ages" Fantasy RP

I like both those ideas. The first one is essentially what I was trying to say, but you worded it much more nicely. The second one... just fits, though, especially with them being historians.

I'll sleep on this and decide in the morning. Thanks for the advice.

Do The Eagles Circle The Mountains? - A Eastern "Middle Ages" Fantasy RP

1: I don't think we want the reason the Visha fell to be summed up in one app by one specific player's backstory.

I was trying to avoid that while saying "they were one of the many factors," just like all the other rebellions and all that. I should be able to change that. Basically, the point was that their "rebellion," while it didn't involve killing, was as serious as the other rebellions in the empire. Thoughts on how to keep that core concept while making the change?

Didn't realize they were normal sized. That won't be difficult to fix. I'll do that now.

The Lucenrai Chronicles: The Fallen Kingdom

Yep, that's the only person I know of that hasn't posted.

I'll just chew on the accent thing. But trust me, if I pick an accent, I'm not going to start doing something like dropping g's and replacing them with apostrophes, or gutting words to sound like... something else. It'll be more about word choice than anything.

Just... wanted to make sure nobody was afraid I'd do that.

(Though dropping g's is pretty chill for certain stories. I just don't see Gabby or Varyans in general doing that.)

Do The Eagles Circle The Mountains? - A Eastern "Middle Ages" Fantasy RP

Okay. So, I didn't write up a government section yet, and I may reorganize things a little, and I'd be okay with having the area I picked out trimmed down in size, BUT... I have the skeleton of an application ready to go. Here it is.

If anything doesn't jive well with the themes of this RP, let me know.

Two asides: first, I wound up dropping the "worship the Vishput as gods" idea. Secondly, I was listening to this the whole time: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQ5xCl8lnl0

That background ambiance may have influenced my writing.

Oumaoro

Realm: The People of Oumaoro
Race: The Oracles, Humans
Location:


Backstory-History

History is not simply a series of facts
nor merely a matter of the strong overcoming the weak.
Two opposing stories often are both true
and no people, however weak, are truly powerless.
Those bound to a single, absolute truth
have no understanding of what or why history is.

- Oracle Omauoi

Legends and myths may only be stories to those that call themselves civilized,
but they are as much a part of history as the books the civilized hold so dear.

- Oracle Uluip

-------------------------------------------------------

The pale, beautiful, serpentine creatures known as the Oracles have dwelt far beneath the earth since times immemorial. Legend says that when the dwarves, the Vishput, first found them, they believed them to be nothing more than strange cave animals. So, the dwarves captured these gentle beings and butchered them, savoring their soft, sweet flesh. When the first Oracle spoke to them in the words of their own language, the gluttonous people were themselves speechless. That Oracle had learned to speak the language of the Empire of Visha in the span of a fortnight.

There were many more Oracles in that bygone era. The Vishput, however, did not appreciate the cleverness of their species. They saw the Oracles as a threat, as an infestation that had to be burned away before it could bring total destruction to their world. And so that is what they did: the Vishput found where the peaceful Oracles made their homes and set about murdering a great many of them. Yet the Oracles did not fight back: they let the dwarves have their way, and when the petty destroyers finally saw the passivity of the creatures, they had already slain so many that the caverns were flowing with blood that went up to their knees, so the legend goes.

The Oracles did not hate the Vishput for this.

The blind creatures were enslaved by the Vishput, but not as mere laborers or soldiers. Some were kept as pets in zoos or in the courts of Visha princes. The species was recognized for its keen intellect, however, a shrewd nature that equaled or perhaps even surpassed that of the ancient dwarven peoples. So, in an odd twist of fate, the same creatures that were often seen as pets to those very princes would be offering their sagely advice to their owners, and a great many still were kept in the Stone Library of Samra Raj as lorekeepers and scribes. Those Oracles were tasked with recording history, teaching it (under Vishput supervision) to others, and maintaining the purity of the records. They were punished terribly for any damage done to the archives, for allowing any falsehoods - falsehoods in the eyes of the Empire's rulers - to enter the Stone Books, and for any measure of disobedience. Execution or dismemberment was often the means by which justice was dispensed, and the remains of the guilty would find themselves in the guts of wealthy families of the Empire.

And still the Oracles did not hate the Vishput.

But over the years, the Oracles did much to plant seeds that would shake the stability of the Empire. The words they whispered to the Vishput princes would be vague or half-truths. Those words encouraged them to watch their rivals out of jealousy and fear. The ones kept in the zoos would tell riddles and ask questions that would make onlookers think things they were not meant to think. And those who guarded the books, those whose task was to etch into stone only that which was true, did just that, carving into the stone all the different truths to be found in the past. The Vishput, however, only wished for one truth to be written - their truth - and their works were undermined by those pale beings that martyred themselves to spread the many stories that needed to be told.

The Oracles planted these seeds of discord. They did not do it out of hate, not out of malice, but because they had seen what the Vishput would do to them and to all other peoples. The Empire of Visha was a threat, an infestation that had to be burned away before it could bring total destruction to their world. So, in that strange way the current of history ebbs and flows, the Oracles helped bring about the collapse of the Empire that brought genocide to the Oracles. Their rebellion, while bloodless and without violence, was as real as all the others. Their part in the Empire's fall was no less substantial than the contributions of those other revolutionaries.

That is, at least, what the stories say. The stories say more: that the Oracles' plot was discovered by the Vishput shortly before their empire completely crumbled, and that the gentle creatures were slain by the hundreds wherever they could be found. Those in the Stone Library managed to survive, but only a sparse few outside of Samra Raj were able to escape death. Those have long since withered in their old age and passed away in distant lands.

The fall of the Empire was absolute. The gentle Oracles kept the doors to their great libraries sealed until the violence stopped. When they opened the door, they saw a city in ruin, a place full of ghosts and terrible memories. So, they gathered as many of the countless Stone Books as they could and left the city, traveling south into the wet marshlands of what is now called Oumaoro ("The Watery Place" in the Oracles' ancient language).

The city the Oracles found was in terrible disrepair. It was not as large as most other cities, was of very little significance, and was one of the first places to be abandoned in the wake of the troubles. Much of its surface half had been devoured by the swamp - including its great dam - and many parts of the underground were flooded or collapsed. This, however, was exactly what made it so attractive to the Oracles. The amphibious beings turned the watery ruins into their new home and filled its underground pools with their eggs.

For a time, there was peace there. The earth soon spawned a new threat to their existence, however: the Shishkarat. The little creatures would come and try to kill them from time to time, but centuries of being punished by the Vishput had taken away the utter passivity in the Oracles. The young ones fought back, using their massive jaws and their whip-like tails to drive back the vicious Shishkarat. It was a terrible thing to them still: they had no desire to fight, and even despite their efforts their numbers slowly dwindled. They needed help.

Humans came, having heard hearing stories from adventurers of great, pale dragons that lived beneath the swamps. They met the Oracles in their subterranean home, marveling at their size, their beauty, and their kindness. The Oracles let them take whatever they wished from the city and the surrounding land and allowed them to settle wherever they wished. It quickly became clear to both parties that they could help one another: the humans had trouble fending off creatures in the wetlands while the Oracles could maneuver through the waters with ease. Conversely, the Oracles were hard pressed to fend of the seemingly endless Shishkarat attacks whereas the humans, while not well adapted to tunnels, could wield weapons and wear armor that allowed them to defend the Oracles from the endless waves of monsters. A symbiotic relationship was quickly formed.

Years went on. The humans of the territory and the Oracles shared much with each other. The humans came to respect the Oracles and revere them as great seers and teachers. The humans managed to make the decaying city, now called Oumal, inhabitable. They lived above the ground while the Oracles lived below, and soon they did not need the Oracles to help them protect themselves from the threats in the marsh.

From this city and the settlements that sprouted around it was the nation of Oumaoro born. They did not call it a kingdom, nor a republic, nor any of those other terms; it remains simply the Watery Place, as the place where they have built their city, as their home. At the heart of this storm-ridden land is the Flooded Temple in Oumal, the place where the Oracles still record history in the Stone Books. It is the Oracles that are appealed to for counsel by those that lead the people of the marsh, and it is the humans that march the shadowed halls beneath the earth, seeking out those threats to their benefactors.

That is, at least, what the stories say.

The Oracles

There are few Oracles now, and though their numbers no longer shrink, they do not seem to be growing. There cannot be more than a hundred of them left in existence, and the people of Oumaoro bemoan the day when the species disappears from the world entirely.

Summarizing the Oracles is not an easy task. They are often known to be great, magnificent white creatures, like pale, eyeless dragons that dwell in the water and move with serpentine grace. They are eyeless, and yet somehow are able to move throughout the world around them. The Oracles say this is because they make sounds with their throats that let them listen to the vibrations of their surroundings, but legends claim that it must be magic. But perhaps what makes Oracles unique are these two qualities: they do not eat past their egg-laying age and they shrink as they grow older.

Oracles begin as eggs in the bottom of the sacred birthing pools in the subterranean half of Oumal. These eggs absorb whatever drifts down to them, and the more they absorb the larger they'll grow, but they can survive without such sustenance.

An Oracle is largest on the day it hatches, usually between thirty-five and forty feet long - gargantuan compared to most creatures in the world to say the least. These young Oracles are like great, swimming lizards in this form with tiny limbs that are dwarfed by the rest of their body. It is also during this time of youth that Oracles lay their eggs in the sacred pools; after that, they will never eat again.

Oracles shrink. Over their long lives - three hundred years long, to be exact - they slowly become smaller and smaller until they are the size of a man. When they are man-sized, they begin standing upright on their legs and can carry things in their hands, but they are at this point so old and frail that warfare is an impossibility for them. Finally, as they near death, Oracles will submerge themselves into their sacred birthing pools where they will feed their unborn children with their own bodies.

Interestingly, there are no males or females among the Oracles. They are genderless: every member of the species is capable of laying eggs and may fertilize the eggs of any other member of its species. This is confusing to other races.

Oracles are highly intelligent creatures. They are highly curious and inquisitive and are always happy to tell or listen to a story. Oracles of different ages set out into the world to discover new things, and this is a cause for their inability to grow as a species. Being so peaceful, many of these would-be adventurers are slain in the open world either by the harshness of the wild or the cruelty of man.

Some Oracles are taken into the courts of distant rulers where they become sages and teachers. This sort of position is amiable to them, but they often return home before they die so they may join their children in the sacred pools.

The species is dedicated to the preservation of the Stone Books, an ever-expanding volume of stone tablets on which the history of the world is etched. They are also willing to write almost anything into stone so long as someone is willing to tell a story. To them, a simple wives' tale has as much historical merit as the recording of a great war. This, too, has been a source of much confusion and anger; many a noble has come to the Oracles to have his legend carved into stone only to be forced to wait for a simple fishmonger to finish telling the Oracles his own story.

The humans of the land do not worship the Oracles as gods, but they do revere them as higher-than-human beings. They often come to the sacred pools to pray alongside the Oracles for guidance and wisdom, to meditate, and to watch the birth of their young. The Oracles often tell their visitors stories of the past, some of them tales of ancient kings, others of the common adventures of children in the woods. These qualities, along with their inherent kindness, their abhorrence for bloodshed, and their largely non-judgmental perspective makes them well-loved by the people of Oumaoro.

Do The Eagles Circle The Mountains? - A Eastern "Middle Ages" Fantasy RP

That answer works for me just fine. I know how to approach the final aspect of the race now, thanks.

The CS should be completed soon.

Do The Eagles Circle The Mountains? - A Eastern "Middle Ages" Fantasy RP

One thing I don't remember seeing talked about: magic. Does it exist? If so, can a species be born with the ability to wield it?

I hate to ask these sort of questions because it probably isn't giving the right impression, but I want to ask before I proceed. I'm deciding on something concerning this species, and whether magic exists is important.

Do The Eagles Circle The Mountains? - A Eastern "Middle Ages" Fantasy RP

I see, in Region 5... Going to read over the Regions again to get a better idea of things before I finish my sheet, thanks.