Lugubrious
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STATUS: Now running: World of Light: The Tale of the Dark Itself 1 mo ago
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Bio
Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
Most Recent Posts
Glad to see it! I will begin work on my sheets.
Though she knew that Baudrii couldn't hear her, Clotho performed a wry, slow clap within the silent Compound of Eyes. Just as she'd predicted, Scutra failed her. While the other imps had more or less done their job, the construct had proved himself unable to lead and take responsibility. To a degree, Clotho regretted having to kill him, but with his demise Clotho could create a less flawed construct with less of the energy and attention it would have taken to make a new one. At some point during the struggle, the Macula perched on Baudrii's chest had been hit, and though its eye wasn't damaged, it was wounded enough that its eye glazed over somewhat. She suspected it was dying, and would soon be unable to afford her a decent view. With the skirmish complete, however, there was no reason to continue watching, and Clotho rose to her feet and left the Compound of Eyes.
Before making a construct, there were other things to attend to. The supply barge had been only one of the lifelines of Virens; there was a hydroponic area a few miles south of the city, situated in a fertile, damp basin that had been a lake before the Biomancers had redirected its flow years ago, that produces vast quantities of rice, leek, and asparagus. To really put the pressure on Virens, this farmland would have to be destroyed. For this, Clotho didn't need any assistance but her own. Spurred on a a favorable breeze, she flew southwest and arrived at the fields within the hour and from her lofty position surveyed the place. It didn't take long to locate the channel through which the lake was once fed. An incredibly dense mangrove copse, obviously grown by Biomancers, blocked most of the water flow and forced it to pass the basin by, rejoining with the Saploya river a half-mile away. With a plan forming in mind, the Swarm Keeper descended.
Ignored by the farmers, who were far too busy in the thigh-deep, substrate-filled water to notice her, Clotho landed a few feet away from the mangroves. The Macula that had been assigned to this area wormed its way out of the thick roots and approached her, chirping. Clotho let out a keening chirp of her own, and in a few moments the air and ground around her were thick with insects. She indicated the mangroves with a tilt of her head and the hordes of bugs descended upon the trees, devouring them with frightening voracity. It was a joyful sight to Clotho; while insects, the most numerous animals on the planet, were usually too dispersed to make a real difference, her command could focus their minuscule, individual efforts to devastating effect. The copse began to creak and crackle, with more and more muddy water starting to bleed from between the intertwining roots. Finally, the living barrier was so weak that the pent-up water behind it suddenly exploded through it, washing away bugs, leaves, and roots alike. The muddy tide cascaded down its old riverbed and washed into the basin, where it would drown crop and human alike. Clotho sighed smugly and held out a hand for the Macula to grab. With the little spy on board, the Swarm Keeper made her way back to her dungeon, stopping only to hear the morbid cries of the farmers horrified by their hard work laid to waste.
Once back at the King Tree dungeon, Clotho dropped off the Macula -literally- and fetched a Myrmidon instead. On the way to the Heart, she was disturbed by the arrival of Baudrii, and after a quick inspection of the loot she sent it on its way. A quick interview determined that the elderly man he had captured was none other than Rammel Vitreus, an alchemist frequented by the family of Theo and an old acquaintance of hers. “Small world, isn't it?” she remarked to the terrified man and his young assistant, usually so full of life. “Having grown up poor yourself, you never turned away even the lowliest customers. People such as you are hard to find. It seems my problem has been solved for me; you two will take over my Apothecary and be treated with every courtesy. Baudrii, see that the food and supplies are sent with them. The rest of you I have no use for except to be recycled into biomatter.” With that, she and the selected Myrmidon continued on to the Heart, where Clotho injected her and began making her into a Construct.
Before making a construct, there were other things to attend to. The supply barge had been only one of the lifelines of Virens; there was a hydroponic area a few miles south of the city, situated in a fertile, damp basin that had been a lake before the Biomancers had redirected its flow years ago, that produces vast quantities of rice, leek, and asparagus. To really put the pressure on Virens, this farmland would have to be destroyed. For this, Clotho didn't need any assistance but her own. Spurred on a a favorable breeze, she flew southwest and arrived at the fields within the hour and from her lofty position surveyed the place. It didn't take long to locate the channel through which the lake was once fed. An incredibly dense mangrove copse, obviously grown by Biomancers, blocked most of the water flow and forced it to pass the basin by, rejoining with the Saploya river a half-mile away. With a plan forming in mind, the Swarm Keeper descended.
Ignored by the farmers, who were far too busy in the thigh-deep, substrate-filled water to notice her, Clotho landed a few feet away from the mangroves. The Macula that had been assigned to this area wormed its way out of the thick roots and approached her, chirping. Clotho let out a keening chirp of her own, and in a few moments the air and ground around her were thick with insects. She indicated the mangroves with a tilt of her head and the hordes of bugs descended upon the trees, devouring them with frightening voracity. It was a joyful sight to Clotho; while insects, the most numerous animals on the planet, were usually too dispersed to make a real difference, her command could focus their minuscule, individual efforts to devastating effect. The copse began to creak and crackle, with more and more muddy water starting to bleed from between the intertwining roots. Finally, the living barrier was so weak that the pent-up water behind it suddenly exploded through it, washing away bugs, leaves, and roots alike. The muddy tide cascaded down its old riverbed and washed into the basin, where it would drown crop and human alike. Clotho sighed smugly and held out a hand for the Macula to grab. With the little spy on board, the Swarm Keeper made her way back to her dungeon, stopping only to hear the morbid cries of the farmers horrified by their hard work laid to waste.
Once back at the King Tree dungeon, Clotho dropped off the Macula -literally- and fetched a Myrmidon instead. On the way to the Heart, she was disturbed by the arrival of Baudrii, and after a quick inspection of the loot she sent it on its way. A quick interview determined that the elderly man he had captured was none other than Rammel Vitreus, an alchemist frequented by the family of Theo and an old acquaintance of hers. “Small world, isn't it?” she remarked to the terrified man and his young assistant, usually so full of life. “Having grown up poor yourself, you never turned away even the lowliest customers. People such as you are hard to find. It seems my problem has been solved for me; you two will take over my Apothecary and be treated with every courtesy. Baudrii, see that the food and supplies are sent with them. The rest of you I have no use for except to be recycled into biomatter.” With that, she and the selected Myrmidon continued on to the Heart, where Clotho injected her and began making her into a Construct.
I'm not sure I ever said that Clotho thought that Scutra was her best worker, simply doing his job fire the time being. She is somewhat bipolar, though, alternating between more human and more monstrous.
The implication is that the creature would return to about twenty-five above the ground to re-engage the alter egos once its ice had melted, which by this point it has. So technically it's still in the air but it's within fighting range.
I'll give you some more time. Glad you're focusing, really.
Midmorning sun shone upon the stolen ship, floating motionless in the Myra river save for the occasional rocking in response to a particularly strong breeze rolling in from the plains to the east. All four of its occupants stood on deck, equidistant from one another, forming the corners of a square. Moros and Eris both crossed their arms in impatience, while Malady merely stood, intimidating yet serene, devoid of any emotion. They formed an odd assemblage; an elderly man in noble rogues, an emaciated northerner clothed in rags and a cloak, a squat woman with no extraordinary characteristics, and an ominous, looming witch. After some time, Aeternam flashed open his eyes, leaned upon his staff, and began.
“So. Now we number four. In the old days four would have been enough, but two of us don't fit the old mold. Ever so slightly incompatible, you, Eris, and you, Malady, prevent us from regaining the source of our power. The Keepers we will no doubt encounter on this world draw their strength from their Dungeon Heart, while its humans attain their magic from the radiation of Elysium's sun. Our magic is different, older and unlike any other, both more difficult and more powerful. The byword of our kin is this: unity.”
After a moment to let that sink in to the newcomers -as Moros already knew this well-, Aeternam continued. “Alone, we are less than Keepers. Together, we are greater than anything. When united, the Four of the past could survive any assault and defeat any foe. When we are joined by our two remaining brothers and final sister, we can reignite the power and shed these human forms. For now, though we are four, we are unable to do it. However, enough strength exists in this unity that we can utilize it to better our position somewhat by performing an infusion. Before that can happen, however, you women will need to absolve yourself of any doubt in yourself and in our cause.”
While the snow-white eyebrows of Malady were piqued in interest, Aeternam found nothing but skepticism in the eyes of Eris. “I am no magician,” she began, “And I've seen nothing that couldn't be a sorcerer's illusion. I've been alive long enough to know a thing or two about the magic of Elysium. Draining life is child's play to a necromancer, enchanted weapons are nothing new to my sand pits. Your light show back in sludgeville might have convinced the witch but I'm not so easily impressed. I already sacrificed a bunch of stuff to come on this little adventure, but I' will not gamble away my entire life's work on your theory.” It seemed that a lifetime of dealing with warriors and magic, combined with a haughty, doubtful perspective, rendered Eris unable to accept her destiny. Moros buried his forehead in his hands, and Aeternam visibly sagged, becoming at once feeble and defeated. Any method they had of possibly proving the reality of their position would simply be dismissed as mundane magic. A few seconds passed before Malady's lips parted. “Sometimes,” she spoke in heavy islander accent, “To reap ultimate reward, we must gamble. The money from gladiator pit is small. To rule the world, to orchestrate its end...that is truly great. You are not so brave as I thought, Fury.”
“Not so brave, is it?” came the retort. “I'm not so stupid, either, so none of your ribbing will work.” Moros rolled his eyes, obviously missing the near-telepathic level of cooperation shared by his brothers. His gaze landed on Aeternam, who gave a discreet nod. “Alright, princess, we get it. You won't gamble with your life. Thing is, we kinda need you, and I can absorb enough of your essence to complete the infusion with or without your consent. Thing is, you'll die in the process, so your choice is this: gamble it or lose it. Understand.”
Eris's mouth was open, fiery words loaded for use, when she did understand. Before she had relied on the knowledge that she was too important to be threatened, but in the wake of Moros's ultimatum, she suddenly seemed rather expendable. She ground her teeth, rage plastered across her face. “Fine!” she finally erupted, “I'll do what you bastards want.”
Several minutes later, the four reconvened on the deck. Each held an item found aboard the ship or on their person. At Aeternam's instruction, each laid a hand on the item of the person to their right, and as they did so, the items began to glow red, gray, green, and yellow for Eris, Aeternam, Malady and Moros respectively. This magic spread across the hands and arms of those holding the items until, all at once, the glows met and created a confined explosion of energy. Each of the four was pushed back, but none fell to the ground. They regarded their items with assorted curiosity and satisfaction; whereas before they had held a compass, an urn, the needle staff, and a length of rope, they now held arcane artifacts.
Eris's rope had become a whip, deep burgundy and covered in thin spikes that, while currently laying flat, could stand erect to pierce armor and flesh alike. Though already a nasty implement, it had become even more lethal by growing to the size of a spear, tipped with a huge bonesaw and enveloped in barbed wire. Meanwhile, the urn of Moros had grown larger, becoming a dull, desaturated brown embossed with green and pale gold. “We have means to flay and kill foes, “ commented Malady, “But you have a way to feed us?” Moros reached within and found hard, white grains of rice. “Not food,” he said, tossing them onto the deck. “Hunger.” As the four watched, the rice rapidly grew in size, becoming ghastly green skeletons in a matter of seconds. The skeletons wailed hauntingly, but when Moros directed them to the rigging, they dutifully went to prepare the ship for travel.
Aeternam held in his hand a compass, black and red, with no features except a single pointer, which currently faced east. “Weapons, minions, and a way to find our kin.”
“So. Now we number four. In the old days four would have been enough, but two of us don't fit the old mold. Ever so slightly incompatible, you, Eris, and you, Malady, prevent us from regaining the source of our power. The Keepers we will no doubt encounter on this world draw their strength from their Dungeon Heart, while its humans attain their magic from the radiation of Elysium's sun. Our magic is different, older and unlike any other, both more difficult and more powerful. The byword of our kin is this: unity.”
After a moment to let that sink in to the newcomers -as Moros already knew this well-, Aeternam continued. “Alone, we are less than Keepers. Together, we are greater than anything. When united, the Four of the past could survive any assault and defeat any foe. When we are joined by our two remaining brothers and final sister, we can reignite the power and shed these human forms. For now, though we are four, we are unable to do it. However, enough strength exists in this unity that we can utilize it to better our position somewhat by performing an infusion. Before that can happen, however, you women will need to absolve yourself of any doubt in yourself and in our cause.”
While the snow-white eyebrows of Malady were piqued in interest, Aeternam found nothing but skepticism in the eyes of Eris. “I am no magician,” she began, “And I've seen nothing that couldn't be a sorcerer's illusion. I've been alive long enough to know a thing or two about the magic of Elysium. Draining life is child's play to a necromancer, enchanted weapons are nothing new to my sand pits. Your light show back in sludgeville might have convinced the witch but I'm not so easily impressed. I already sacrificed a bunch of stuff to come on this little adventure, but I' will not gamble away my entire life's work on your theory.” It seemed that a lifetime of dealing with warriors and magic, combined with a haughty, doubtful perspective, rendered Eris unable to accept her destiny. Moros buried his forehead in his hands, and Aeternam visibly sagged, becoming at once feeble and defeated. Any method they had of possibly proving the reality of their position would simply be dismissed as mundane magic. A few seconds passed before Malady's lips parted. “Sometimes,” she spoke in heavy islander accent, “To reap ultimate reward, we must gamble. The money from gladiator pit is small. To rule the world, to orchestrate its end...that is truly great. You are not so brave as I thought, Fury.”
“Not so brave, is it?” came the retort. “I'm not so stupid, either, so none of your ribbing will work.” Moros rolled his eyes, obviously missing the near-telepathic level of cooperation shared by his brothers. His gaze landed on Aeternam, who gave a discreet nod. “Alright, princess, we get it. You won't gamble with your life. Thing is, we kinda need you, and I can absorb enough of your essence to complete the infusion with or without your consent. Thing is, you'll die in the process, so your choice is this: gamble it or lose it. Understand.”
Eris's mouth was open, fiery words loaded for use, when she did understand. Before she had relied on the knowledge that she was too important to be threatened, but in the wake of Moros's ultimatum, she suddenly seemed rather expendable. She ground her teeth, rage plastered across her face. “Fine!” she finally erupted, “I'll do what you bastards want.”
Several minutes later, the four reconvened on the deck. Each held an item found aboard the ship or on their person. At Aeternam's instruction, each laid a hand on the item of the person to their right, and as they did so, the items began to glow red, gray, green, and yellow for Eris, Aeternam, Malady and Moros respectively. This magic spread across the hands and arms of those holding the items until, all at once, the glows met and created a confined explosion of energy. Each of the four was pushed back, but none fell to the ground. They regarded their items with assorted curiosity and satisfaction; whereas before they had held a compass, an urn, the needle staff, and a length of rope, they now held arcane artifacts.
Eris's rope had become a whip, deep burgundy and covered in thin spikes that, while currently laying flat, could stand erect to pierce armor and flesh alike. Though already a nasty implement, it had become even more lethal by growing to the size of a spear, tipped with a huge bonesaw and enveloped in barbed wire. Meanwhile, the urn of Moros had grown larger, becoming a dull, desaturated brown embossed with green and pale gold. “We have means to flay and kill foes, “ commented Malady, “But you have a way to feed us?” Moros reached within and found hard, white grains of rice. “Not food,” he said, tossing them onto the deck. “Hunger.” As the four watched, the rice rapidly grew in size, becoming ghastly green skeletons in a matter of seconds. The skeletons wailed hauntingly, but when Moros directed them to the rigging, they dutifully went to prepare the ship for travel.
Aeternam held in his hand a compass, black and red, with no features except a single pointer, which currently faced east. “Weapons, minions, and a way to find our kin.”
IVIasterJay said
If a keeper had a child, would that child also be a keeper?
Now that's something I don't think anyone's considered before. I suppose so--after all, the Keepers are a race, of sorts. Demigods throughout the lore of many different civilizations have been able to breed and pass along the status.
In
Legend of Zelda : Whispers in the Night~ ....the Era Without A Hero
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Can't help but already create character concepts. I feel like making a Chilfos as a thug for hire would be interesting and challenging, but that's not my only idea.
If all of those who posted their interest sign up, we have ten people. I know it only takes four or five -even three, if they're awesome enough- to create a successful RP, so it's quite likely at this point I'll be joining.
If all of those who posted their interest sign up, we have ten people. I know it only takes four or five -even three, if they're awesome enough- to create a successful RP, so it's quite likely at this point I'll be joining.
Sounds like a plan. I would really rather you follow through on that plan, but if you are unwilling/unable to commit to it soon, I'm afraid I must take action so that I can progress.
In
Legend of Zelda : Whispers in the Night~ ....the Era Without A Hero
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
May very well be interested in this. I'll keep a definite eye on it; if it looks like it has some consistent, enthusiastic support and won't die immediately, I'm all in.
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