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@Rithy I am not sure. Ideally 5 to 7, maybe more, but we have a good number right now. With any interest check there are those that are interested and join, those that realize they are no longer interested and drop, and then people who join the OOC afterwords.

I can tell you however that I plan on having the OOC up tonight my time or sometime tomorrow. I have to go over what I have and write a couple things more as well.
@Rithy Sure sure :D

@Burger Good, another sacrifice

Awesome, welcome!

@Ghost Shadow Thanks for the interest!

@dragonmancer Why not both eyes?
@Typhon Yes, still open. However, at the same time we are currently going through an inactive period that leaves me questioning if I've lost some people. So yes, we are open but I'm not sure for how much longer.
@Rithy Only the smart ones XD
@mercenarius Don't sweat it! It'll just be fine.
@Zetsuko Glad for it!

@Lord Orgasmo Aw sorry to hear that. I know some people with diabetes, as long as you take care of yourself you'll be good. Ah I remember high school, glad to be done with it but I do miss the people. Well, sometimes.
@Lord Orgasmo So we do! How's it been?
Prologue


Large iron gates opened to the thunderous sounds of galloping horses. Sat atop their backs were wounded men, the dying and the dead. An officer wearing the insignia of the Sol Protectorate came forward from the bunch and shouted orders, then the man dismounted and promptly collapsed to the floor. Guards rushed over to him, but he was gone, in his hand a blood-stained letter addressed to the Emperor himself.

A little while later a nervous messenger pronounced himself to the Emperor who sat upon his gilded throne. He told of what happened at the gate not an hour ago, and the letter that was addressed to him. The emperor, an old man now, straightened himself and beckoned him forward. The messenger sat in his hand the officer’s insignia and letter and bowed.

The old Emperor opened that blood-stained letter and read;

Westgate fallen. Enemy is too great in numbers. Sol Protectorate are routed or dead. I am sorry father, I have failed. Going to hold off the enemy, allow the wounded to escape. Entrusting this letter with Captain Obrien, a good man. Goodbye Father. Tell my sister and wife that I loved them. Tell my daughter that… she is my shining jewel.

Your Faithful Son,
Prince Lucius


The Emperor slumped into his chair, crumpling the letter in his hand. He took a deep breath as the light in the room dimmed from a passing cloud. He then looked at the messenger with a mournful expression and with a somber tone stated, “You may go my child, go be with your family. Dark days are ahead.”

-----


The Arrival of the Scorned


Two years ago in the far western reaches of the Empire, a seed sprouted in the womb of the Ebony Mountain. A black mountain standing apart from its siblings of grey, long as it held superstition in mortal hearts. What came next was horrific. Great tendrils of dark green vines shot up from the ground surrounding the mountain in pestilence and decay. From these malignant roots came vile creatures- the Scorned. They are of rotting flesh and twisted growths. They care not for anything but spreading their disease across the land.

So, the war began, between the peoples of the Empire and the new threat that united them all. Never had humans, orcs, and Fae fight side by side as brothers in arms. But even this great unity did little but halt the advance of the vines. In the two short years of the war, the Empire has been steadily losing ground as the vines grew from the mountain. Pushing the scorned further and further into the heartland. The fall of Westgate is the latest blow, these are now desperate times as the enemy can come forward with resistance only from the men that halt them. This has prompted the Emperor to call for extreme measures, to call for outside help as his military forces struggle and to let loose the Artifacts of Dramoria the Golden. Now, it's time to strike the heart of the Scorn itself, one final attempt to stop the Scorned from advancing any further. And he’ll need adventurers to do it.

-----


Hello, welcome to my newest idea. So if this fancies your attention and you want to give it a shot read a little more. You will be playing as an adventurer, called upon by the Emperor himself for your unique talents, abilities, and or powers to go where no one else has dared, the heart of the corruption- The Ebony Mountain. It is most likely a suicide mission, but fortune favors the courageous. Not only will you be payed handsomely for your services, you will also be given powerful artifacts to boot. Artifacts that were once used to unite the Empire, now put into the hands of mere adventurers like you. Will this power tempt you? Will it corrupt you? Or will level heads prevail and fight for the future of the very world itself? Only you can know.

Mason
Location: Home
Interacting with: The Dead and Dying





Mason stared at the unlit fireplace with a blank expression on his face. It was old and showed a lot of use, but they hadn't had a fire yet, with all the boxes cluttered around. Probably wasn't very safe. It wasn't like the other fireplace back at his old home. The one where, as a child, they would light a fire on those cold winter nights and huddle around keeping warm, telling stories. Now only a quiet room remained of what had once been, and ironically, his old home had burned down. He didn't like to think about his old home much anymore. Or the memories of the old fireplace.

Next to him on the leather couch, in that cluttered living room, was a bag of Doritos that he occasionally would eat, and on the table in front of him was a glass of water. Doritos were his favorite chip but his appetite had alluded him for the longest time, he had been working on this particular bag for about a week now and it was only half empty. The water in the glass was half full, but it had been full about three hours ago. Or how ever long it had been since he sat down, there wasn't a clock in that room. And his phone... His phone was on silent upside down next to his glass of water. He should probably check it some time soon, but after the first time his sisters found him worried and afraid because he hadn't text them back, they had let it drop.

Ah his sisters. Ever since they had moved, and the insurance money had come in, they had started acting like proper adults. Mason supposed they had to, they probably didn't want to, but they had to. If not for themselves, then for him but most of the time he found himself not really caring. They had noticed of course, got him help from the doctors but he never took the medicine, and the therapist would never, could never, understand him. He never wanted to go, but at the same time he never told them that. Today he didn't have to go, but if he felt any relief he didn't show it. Mason didn't really feel anything besides numbness anymore, but that was okay. It was better then having to feel, he knew that. His sisters didn't know that either, but they wouldn't be home for a couple more hours. Both had gotten part-time jobs after the... after things went back to normal. Waiting for school and all, wanting to help pay for the new apartment and all that they lived in now. His grandparents on his mother's side sent money to them as well, they had came for the funerals but they owned a business in the Midwest that couldn't be shut down or given away anytime soon. While his sisters, even though it was painful, admitted they had wanted to stay in New York. it was home after all.

Mason went to grab his glass for a drink, but as he did he heard the door open. Which one of his sister's would it be? Was it even time for them to be home? He flipped his phone over and looked at the time, it was only two o'clock, it would be another two hours before either of his sister's got home. Then who had come in? He heard no footsteps, so he turned around slowly but saw nothing. Perhaps it had been nothing after all? probably just a neighbor he told himself, it was nothing to worry about after all. He turned his head back around and his brother stared back at him from across the table.

Mason froze up, Henry simply smiled at him. Mason didn't know what was going on, but he breathed slowly in and out. he closed his eyes,
then opened them again but Henry was still there smiling at him. "I'm dreaming aren't I?" Mason asked calmly.

Henry chuckled, "Nope. Sorry to burst your bubble baby bro."

Mason twitched, trying to gain some semblance of what was going on. He felt like he was going to breakdown, and cry but that wouldn't help anything. Now in a somewhat shaky voice mason asked, "How? If I'm awake, how are you here? You..." His voice choked, he couldn't say it. This was some messed up trick, had he taken medicine today?

"Died? Yeah I know. Just thought I'd pop out and say hello. It's not like you were doing anything today. Or any day for that matter."

Mason scowled subtly, it definitely sounded like his brother, even spoke like him. But he was gone now. This was all wrong. It was seriously starting to unravel him, he could feel it. Seeing his brother brought back memories and feelings he wanted nothing more then to suppress. They didn't need to exist, they couldn't exist.

"What? What do you mean pop out? This isn't possible."

"Now now Mace, who said anything about it being possible?" Then he heard the door open again and he looked away, this time Bridget's voice echoed down the hallway in a sing-song voice. "I'm home, And I brought your favorite, Grimaldi’s pepporni pizza!"

When Mason looked back, Henry was gone and he found himself slightly shocked. That had brought him close to feeling something, and he wasn't quite sure how to react. So he sat there motionless again as Bridget walked in. "Didn't you hear me Mace? It's pizza for dinner."

Mason looked at the fireplace. After a moment he said, "Awesome." In a flat voice. Unbeknownst to Mason, a tear fell down his sister's face as she walked away.
Silacetus & Zhystkrexas


Need. The invisible hand which guided all interactions. For without a need, there would be no progress. WIthout a need for air, one does not breathe, without a need for water, one does not drink, without such a need for food, one does not eat. What then do the gods need? These immortals born out of the aetherium, as timeless as they were and powerful as they are, they too were servants to the great need. For what was the purpose for their being if they had no need? Simply being was torment, an empty existence as a mockery to the self, there must be a reason to why, a rational to be. Or perhaps there was not? Perhaps existence was a fickle state, and things are because they were and were not. And the universe and all reality was merely a joking construct of some laughing idiot, taken without an essential purpose. But even then there was a need to explain the insanity of it all.

A mother. How her horns nearly matched his own, hidden beneath the deceptive guise of his charm. Thousands of forms innocent and predatory the Lord of Hunger had, but amongst his fellow brethern, he retained his regal airs well knowing he fooled no one here. He was an essential, all understood the true nature of his being, even if they could not see the horror beneath the demon's eyes. Of which understanding what he is and who Zhystkrexas was not the greatest mystery given his influence in the assembled court. Yet his plans were a mystery, his desires evident but unclear as he nibbled on the seeds. The faceless goddess bowed low to her elder, dressed in the sheet to clad her seducer's form. Fertile womb waiting to regurigitate as much as his jaws to swallow. His eyes took a keen interest in her, turning to face her facelessness for a moment as the god paused his consumption.

"You approach me with humble grace... And yet claim a seat that is not yours..." An observation made and uttered towards the goddess, words with a meaning far heavier than the horns either of them bore.

---

Silacetus said nothing for a moment, digesting the words spoken by one such as he. There was a power to them, intoxicating and divine. It made her skin crawl with a mixture of excitement and fear. She gave her reply with a calm demeanor, "One such as I would be foolish not to approach you without being humble, my lord." The Goddess paused then spoke once more, "I claim nothing that is not mine be right. No one stopped me from sitting here, my lord. I apologize if this displeases you. I am after all, quite new to this world."

---

"Foolish... Foolish is to sit in such a place... To believe yourself fit for such a throne without first measuring your worth... But... Do you wish to sit there? Is it why you have answered the summons? Or have you come to mingle with the lesser rabble on the fringes?" A pause as a bite into a new apple tore into the fruit flesh with fangs, as if aggressively acknowledging the others who made their way into the court. "I taste it... It drips from you like blood from a bleeding offering, ritually gutted in the name of the gods by trembling mortals. Quivering as they cry out our names until they are silenced... The same mix of fear and adoration is about you..."

---

His words bit into her, like sharp teeth cutting through flesh but she only found herself admiring the God that sat before her. Perhaps she was foolish, perhaps she was not, but the bell had rung its note and there she was. She not like those on the fringes, she was here before him, talking. It was wonderful. "Yes... I wish to sit here, If I hadn't I would have sat elsewhere my lord. I am not a rabbit, sitting in its burrow all day timid and afraid. I am here, talking to the mightiest Essiential to sit upon a throne." She played a dangerous game. But wasn't life full of games to play? Through flattery or other means, she would not be denied her birthright. Even now they called to her, sweet whispers in the back of her mind full of desire.

---

"I cannot dine on flattery, such empty words are without substance, unpalatable to taste the sweetness alone without anything to chew on. And... Do you believe yourself worthy to judge We the Essentials? Does the hare think the wolf as stronger than the fox and bear? Or does she fear the soaring eagle that would snatch her from the skies?" The toxic effects of being in the presence of the Lord of Hunger, eating away at the chains that restrained the desires, repressed and surpressed it was he that brought out the true nature of the beast within. She made the monsters, he made them into monsters.

"Thoughts to dwell on... But now I offer you a deal." Another bite into the apple, deeper this time, munching into the hardy core, as ivory teeth tore into that which others threw away. "You wish to sit there... And I shall support your attempts to sway the court into accepting your status into the Pantheon... You shall have what you want... A seat of power upon the world beneath us, the influence and authority it commands... And you shall have your hand design it... And in return... I shall ask of you a single favor to be owed as a debt to me... What say you to this arrangement... Mother?" The terms vague, but Zhystkrexas was known for his deals, dark and devious, as mortals scarely became better off than than they began. Yet with the gods on equal footing, it would be impossible to bind a forced aggreement. Silacetus would be able to back out of this deal once she successful ascended to the throne. And yet... Would she want him of all people to be against her future plans?

---

Flattery held no sway for such a being as Zhystkrexas, she should have known better. Still she could not help but have a little hope that her words had placated the God of Hunger. As meaningless as they were to him, perhaps they still held a little to dine on. She was not worthy to judge beings who sat so high above her, yet she could still hold opinions about them within her own mind. Opinions were fickle things, much like a rabbit they are afraid to leave their burrows, but once they do two things might happen. They might be caught and punished, or escape to live, grow and reproduce. Being eaten is never what a rabbit wants, and to the God of Hunger she was just that. But Silecatus knew that if a predator wasn't able to eat, they too would grow hungry with despair. But she would never tell the thoughts she had in her head, so she simply mused on them and listened to what he had to say.

She was suprised to see that a deal was offered to her. It seemed that even a predator such as he, needed a rabbit to live, even if it was for the rabbit to create more rabbits for food. A promise of immediate support in exchange for something in return. Her desire for power on the Pantheon, for her future and her childrens futures. The authority to command, and the influence to craved by those deemed lesser. It was all very intoxicating for Silecatus. But the goddess knew whatever Zhystkrexas would want from her would be devious and dark. And if she accepted then denied him such a request she would make a very powerful enemy. She thought upon the deal in silence for a moment, her mind coming to the only conclusion she desired. For better or for worse, she could not not deny such a gift.

"I accept Lord Zhystkrexas, God of Hunger. And I thank you for an offer such as this."

Her statement was short and to the point, from her talk with Zhystkrexas she could see he much liked short answers. It was akin to a hungry man waiting for a feast to start before him, growing angry that he could not eat because of long pleasantries. She would acknowledge that now, having had a taste of the God. She looked about, wondering who else might have arrived. She noticed two figures right away. A small creature and a robed figure sat near the back. Fools they were for not sitting closer, but she would not judge them, not yet at least. She only cared for herself in that moment. And her existence was just about to become even better.
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