mickilennial

Itiner: Heroes of Ardenfeld

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It had been ten years.

Prelissa Tindow crossed her arms as she looked out the window of the Lying Wolverine, the tavern she had tended to ever since her father had grown ill. She thought often of Ardenfeld, the ruins of which she could still see in the distance.

She had been seven years past her naming day when the bandits came. Her father had ushered her and her brother into a safe place while he ensured the bandits nearing the tavern would not report back to their leader. The next morning when they came out of hiding the entire town was gone and things never really were the same again. Many had been orphaned and widowed, more buried. The children she knew from her visits to the village for school and such things had all gone into the wind. Her father had told her that it was in the hands of the gods now.

There was some movement outside–probably more adventurers. The Wolverine didn’t rightly get much of normal customers anymore. T’was all sparsely populated frontier this far south of Sarinan with Ardenfeld no longer influencing the state of the region. She sighed as her eyes caught the sight of the questboard on the wall nearest to the bar counters where she tended to the drinks and took orders. It was just her here. Sometimes strangers unnerved her, but today something in her gullet told her it was a good day.

Prelissa smiled, albeit wearily as she gave out an introduction to whoever was first through the door.

“Welcome to The Lying Wolverine! Is there anything you need?”

---

_{GM's Note: Characters may enter the tavern and make their own independent openings. They can roll any checks and actions suited to the introduction. I can give flavortext as needed for the tavern's interior, but generally take a seat and wait for your friends... if they are even going to show up after all of this time.}

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

_______________________________________________ // INFO - Full Name - Eolnana “Elon” Anteskelia Age - 15 Gender - Female Heritage - Valeforian Meritocracy Magical Affinity - Wind, Fire; Lightning // PERSONALITY - Antagonistic Nihilist Eolnana doesn’t particularly like optimism or anybody, really. She’s a cynical nihilist who holds disdain for society, the universe, and everything in between. This energy is not something she keeps to herself either, as she will be quick to dismiss and antagonize people who she doesn’t like. Nothing matters, including their feelings. Deadpan Snarker A dreary monotone is one of Eolnana’s most prominent features of her character. Even in disguise as Elon her words are slung like gravel and most usually at other people’s expense. One of the few joys in life away from home is throwing vicious sarcastic attacks at anybody who is annoying or those she wants to repel. Pretentious Aficionado Eolnana has studied the sword… in every book she could get her hands on. While she has had some contemporary practice in dueling, everything she knows is from dawdling in her family’s personal library. This is extended toward any subject. In fact, Eolnana believes she is the smartest person in the room even when she isn’t. // SKILLSET - Bardic Savant Girls are good at singing! And playing the harp! The words of Eolnana’s brother echo in her mind. She hates it when he’s right. Despite being a dour thing and monotone voice, when Eolnana drops the act she actually has a very pretty singing voice. She also knows how to play several instruments such as the lute and panflute with sharp precision. In another life she would be seen as a musical prodigy perhaps. Capable Duelist Elon and Eolnana were trained by Sergio Andelmelia, a famous sword dancer in Valefor. Her brother took to it with more enthusiasm, but Eolnana was always the more cautious and ardent student, always trying to analyze Sergio’s every move. Since her brother’s sickness she has studied harder and harder to make sure when she pretends to be Elon that nobody will notice there’s a difference between their skill. Daughter of the Storm Eolnana and her brother inherited the latent magical bloodlines that compose lightning. While her brother has taken to focus more on swordfighting, she has always been the opposite. Given she was already a girl who sat in the library surrounded by books and excelled in her studies, magical tomes and understanding sort of came naturally to her.

Physical Description Eolnana is short even for a girl, so posing as a boy must make her seem particularly height disadvantaged. She stands at five-foot-three, with boys of her age often being five-to-six inches above her and trying to lord over her with the size difference. It doesn’t matter much to Eolnana–the taller they are, the harder and more violently they fall. Her gray-blue eyes seem devoid of life and her brown hair is messy and uncouth. Her tan, desert-burned skin is probably her most distinct feature away from home. Her mother has told her that men see her as exotic and should be wary around them. Her physique is more athletic than it may appear for a young woman who may as well cite her residence as a library. She’s been doing drills alongside her brother for years and enjoys the art of the sword and spear as much as her twin does. She just likes books more. Character Conceptualization Fifteen years ago, Shende Anteskelia bore twins for her husband, the leader of a prominent mercantile dynasty in northern Valefor. They would name them Elon and Eolnana. The Anteskelia Dynasty was old and “pure” by all accords. They were one of the closest things to nobility you could get in the region and several stories speculated their heritage dated back to the King of Thieves himself. Such a claim has been in contention since pretty much the first time it was uttered by an Anteskelia. It is something Eolnana has heard her entire life, though try as she can she has never seen the proof in the pudding despite inhabiting the great library every time she has found chance to. The two siblings would grow close together, one heir to the patronage of the many guilds under Anteskelian control and the other a girl who was best suited in trying to sire an influential romance. Envy grew in Eolnana’s heart. She wanted to have the same agency as her brother, to live free and do what she wanted. She wanted to study magic with the best and brightest. She wanted to be seen as independent and recognized as the genius she saw herself as. Her brother barely could read, let alone lead the family! The more time she spent beside him training in the sword the more she resented the idea that she couldn’t be free. One day she began thinking on how to break her chains, how to escape her guardians or convince her parents. When Elon fell ill the resentment moved inward, questioning how she could hope for such a thing. He had regalled her with all of his ambitions, his plans, his wants, and desires; how he was going to become a knight and how the ink was already dry. Despite her regret in how she felt about everything, she found herself thinking. Plotting. Was this the way out? It was a serious sickness and his recovery could’ve been long. Craving an out she did the one thing she could. She sought out in a game of fantasy and decided that she would pose as her brother in his ambitions and take them for herself. If he recovered everyone wouldn’t care, the damage would already be done, and ultimately she would’ve proven what exactly she thought of her place in the world. The Genius of Valefor would spread her wings and everyone would recognize her as one of the greatest knights to exist in the current age!

Steal Away The Light

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

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“Maker, protect us from the storm…”

“...the storm that brings the void to our hearth…”

“...give us certainty in the endless darkness…”

“...and make sure–”

The pyromancer’s prayer was cut short as screams echoed in the hearthfire’s ember, as a horrid void crawled upon the peak of the tower; an inhuman, distorted screech coming from its gaping maw. Had the lone hunter with the cannon stayed, perhaps they would not have screamed, perhaps the voidling would have been blasted into oblivion. Perhaps so, but alas such was not the case; the pyromancers were alone and many were shaken from their task. Pyromancer Galeil, the leader of the lot, was the only one among the pyromancers who did not panic and as such was barking orders to his lessers almost immediately. They didn’t listen. Pyromancer Riessima had never seen a void before. Pyromancer Daviel was a coward. Pyromancer Zulman was ready to die. The fire itself shook as the six apprentice pyromancers struggled to hold the flame, and in the end, their only chance to survive this horrid day.

“Hold! Hold, you void-forsaken cowards!” He growled, as he held out his hands, using his master of pyromancies to create a sphere of fire the size of an ogre's skull as fast as he could. The void creature snarled in response, but not before the sphere was thrown into its face and engulfed it in the thing it hated the most: the warmth and light of the flame. There would be nothing that remained of the voidling in seconds as the elder pyromancer melted every inch of its body.

Galeil sighed as he began channeling his magic once more into the elemental shard. He didn’t blame any of the apprentices to not handle the stress and fear that came with their current situation. It was bad. He had been in two similar situations in his life and he wasn’t particularly thrilled that the day had come where it could be his third and potentially his final call to the flame. Only a small handful of hunters had come and he feared they had already lost a few of that small handful, some were as green as his own apprentices.

“Roc hatchlings. Corrupted by the void.” He looked up at the sky through the archway as his body shook in anxious dread. “You shouldn’t waste your fear on them.”

“Ser?”

He turned, “You should fear their mother.”

In seconds, almost like it was answering Galeil, a louder, bigger, and even more horrifying screech boomed across the skies. He imagined the situation below, on the ground, wasn’t much better.

“We got–oh maker no–we got a–aarrrrrrghhh!”

The sound of bones being crushed into a pudding was never a particularly pleasant sound. Coupled with the tearing and the screaming, the line of guards that formed didn’t quite know how to handle the creature before them as it released their friend, their comrade, whom they had known for five years, with a soft ‘plop’ on the stone road before them. He was unrecognizable.

Ogres could do this normally. They stood well over twelve feet with muscle that was hard to sever from the bone. The void had taken this ogre and the mass of goblins behind him, coating their skin like black tar and turning their eyes into an endless abyss. The flat fingertips had formed terrible claws that ended its reach. As it and its minions approached it laughed in a dark, almost indiscernible way. In mere moments all of the void goblins screeched as they charged the assortment of guards with demonic speed.

They had no chance.

In Search of Gaea A Seafaring Fantasy Adventure (REBUILD)

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Marina Watercrest smiled widely at the crewmate who had challenged her to three sets of Maker’s Grace. The cards on the table plain for them to see as the sound of the ocean hammered against the hull.

“This is what you get, you know.” The young woman smiled, “For dueling one of the greats.”

The older man groaned before nearing a laugh. He hadn’t interacted with the diver much, but the girl’s gall and confidence nearly set him off. That was before the cards spun off the table as a particularly strong wave had tucked itself against the ship. Were they nearing their destination? That accursed storm? Must’ve been. Marina could hear the yelling, faint as it were through the ship’s floorboards. She supposed it was now where the real fun began. The real adventure. It would be like her travels before when she left the Imperial Sea but as a girl seeking to find her way. She had failed, triumphed, and then failed again. She was hoping in this venture it would be a return to greatness.

She smiled as she scooped up the shelma from the table, standing from her seat that she had barely kept upright when the ship braced against the waves. It was always fun for Marina to taunt and gloat, much like she had done at the academy.

She brushed off her cloak, “Alas, I would love to continue robbing you blind, but I must dive.”

The crewman began to mumble unpleasantries as Marina pranced out of the room and toward her belongings and the area where she and the other divers would convene.

The thrill of the dive was something else and while Marina had not interacted with any of the other divers, with her rebreather on she could still feel a sense of camaraderie, a sense of belonging. One of the other divers in particular did remind her of someone, though she couldn’t quite place it with their own rebreather on and the fact they had not run into each other during the voyage into the storm. It would be a familiarity that she would press on at another time, but for now, she was getting ready. The diving chamber was not as nice or as shoddy as other ones as she had been in, a delightful middle ground. She stretched her legs as conversation began and continued, mostly idle comments, things that weren’t terribly interesting or fun. She jumped up and down, getting the blood flowing and muscles ready while smiling inanely underneath her diving gear.

One of the women talked of Luna and Luck and Marina looked slightly in her direction.

“Luck isn’t in the equation, my love.” Marina looked toward the diving platform that was sealed shut with a dark temptation growing in her chest. Her eyes widened and there was a glimmer in them that could be seen by anyone who looked at the purple-haired diver. “If you listen carefully, you can hear the terror of the tides. Isn't it wonderful?”

Steal Away The Light

Location: Uhladein, Eastern Marches

---

Trantascilia smiled, calmly as her eyes analyzed the entire battlefield from the rooftops as the body of a void before her feet withered into ash.

It was a tale as old as time, full of omens and horrors; of people teetering on the edge as they gave everything they had to prevent the doom that awaited or to embrace the chaos as long as it lasted. Glorious! Magnificent! A splendor of women who had everything taken from them and given everything to take from the void. Rain was no omen, not to the cyromancer. No, no, no rain was a song, a masterpiece of timbre and tenor, of melody and harmony. To be scared of the pinnacle was foolhardy, even if oblivion awaited them should they perform with the utmost error. The Hunters of the Void were merely dancers waiting to dance, and rain often gave them one of the most suiting songs.

The howl of the void drew closer as a dancer danced their final dance and the blue-haired noble peered in the direction of the void. There were more of them coming in droves while their larger, more frightening members shambled toward the walls. The rain drew heavier. How long had it been raining? It felt like days, months! Not merely hours. Perhaps it could rain forever, so Trantascilia could dance until oblivion. What a sight to behold would that be? She imagined it with glee as her feet clicked against the tiled rooftops as each raindrop fell to earth. The rain underneath her feet turned to ice and she began to skate from rooftop to rooftop, as voidlings that could fly attempted to gnaw at her flesh. They were, as Tranta would call it, too slow and too weak to even contend with such ambitions.

She laughed, her head ducking underneath claws of black mass. She spun her spear outward and it caught flames of cerulean and azure. The voidflesh melting into ash as the trail of ice scoured the rooftops.

“Is that all?” She taunted, “Try harder. Dance with me.”

As if emboldened by her words, the voidlings seemed to multiply and as more came upon the Prentisian Noble it only seemed to make Tranta move faster and react with more haste. The Song of Storms was in her element and while the pyromancers carried on with fear in their lungs, Tranta, a hunter, a living weapon, could only fight with glee. The pyromancers had asked her to dance in the Song of Storms and she was happy to partake. The void would be defeated and it would be sorrowful for the hunters that lost their lives during their own dance, but to her and most hunters it was a reality of their vocation. She didn’t try to think about when her dance would end, but merely how fun the dance would be.

After all, it would be her dance that was one of many in a great symphony to save the world.

As she landed on a tiled rooftop once more she looked upward and with her free hand moved a strand of hair from her face as a slight “hmph” exited her lips. That’s when she saw it. An aerial voidling four times the size of the others. Perhaps this would be a better dance partner?

Her lips curled into a manic smile. Doubtful.

Steal Away The Light

You guys write like you wear capes IRL.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Mystic Prophecy Chapterhouse, The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

“The guilds we associated with prior to the glitch…”

Luci looked to Kazuki, considering the question. Since Priscilica took over in Aag’s… absence… she had done everything in her power to coordinate with the limited relationships they had. She wasn’t going to reach out to Obsidian Vanguard, though she was sure her old friends were having a parade over the state of things. Other larger guilds in the kingdom had been working with Pris or Pris was in the process of convincing them. So many guilds had fractured or broken down after the glitch, and lacking Aaginim's charisma and their traditional numbers Luci wasn't sure if Mystic had any sway in getting some of the more obtuse guild leaders to play ball. It was a reality Luci had told Pris about but the pink-haired wizard refused to listen to her logic because she was emotionally compromised.

“Helen’s Battalion has devoted most of their time to protecting people on the roads and containing wayfarer unrest. Avalon Academy is trying to coordinate a dungeon defense initiative, they were here yesterday. Obsidian…” She paused, her feelings on Obsidian Vanguard creeping into her mind and those who knew the history between Vanguard and Mystic Prophecy would not be surprised at such pause. “...Obsidian Vanguard, last I heard, had moved eastward. I have no idea what they are doing.”

She leaned back against one of the walls. “There are others, but it's a lot of work. Pris went out to visit another guild a few minutes ago. The Children of Letria. Leader's not been a fan of us in the past. I don't know. Maybe you could have some better luck.”

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Mystic Prophecy Chapterhouse, The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

“No, I am not aware.”

It didn’t surprise her, but had she been aware? Not really. Between the new economic demands and the difficulty reaching out to other members several kingdoms over, it wasn’t in hers or Priscilica’s purview to play the game like they used to.

Her eyes met Benkei’s, carefully looking at his body language. Anxiety. Tension. His fist was curled and although he was speaking to her like he would before there was something to it that she couldn’t place, something that indicated concern and worry. Did he feel guilty about what they all had survived? Maybe. If they did, part of her wanted to feel content with that conclusion but another part of her felt unnerved by it. She had said some strong, in-the-moment things to Kazuki. She had lost her fiance and her best friend. Although the brothers had little to do with it, she was still coming to terms with accepting that; she was having trouble coming to terms with accepting anything at the moment. It was why she spent so much time practicing her technique. She was basically becoming a shut-in.

“Are you aware that only two of us are able to do anything around here?” She remarked, colder than she intended. “I’ve been struggling getting back to normal. If Pris and Shev were not here…”

She cleared her throat. This wasn’t any of their problems. She didn’t need to burden their whole group and its stability because of her and Leaves psychological downpour, after all.

“Yes. Refugees. Right. I don’t know what you want from me, Pris already opened the doors for your entire group. I don’t know anything about these disappearances. What could I possibly help you with?”

Where It Always Rains

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April 7th, Year 1

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Akari liked sitting alone. As the other students minded their own business and some got way too involved, Akari sat with the food she had made as she contemplated how explicitly disappointed she was with her brother for deciding to, in his own words, “not show up”.

He had been doing a lot of that lately; not literally with school given the school year was still rather fresh, but in general. She couldn’t blame him completely. Akari wasn’t sure why she felt like she should try in anything and wasn’t exactly concerned with her own future. But she still did what she had to. Kenzo needed to be reminded of that. She was bigger than him and smarter–and he was going to get an earful the next time he pulled something like this. If she had to drag him to school tomorrow by his neck she would do it.

“Stupid idiot moron.” She muttered, as she dug into the food she had prepared. “If I have to, he has to. That’s the rule. That’s the promise.”

Her eyes moved back to the people around her and she let out a sigh. This year was going to suck.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: Mystic Prophecy Chapterhouse, The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

“Idiot…” Rael sighed as Alja barged into the chapterhouse without even considering knocking.

It seemed no matter who was in her group, she always stuck with someone who didn’t think before they did things. At least with Graves he was smart enough to not forget knocking was customary. It struck her as strange given the disappearances of wayfarers that Seele had mentioned that Mystic wasn’t locked up like Fuchū Prison, though.

Did Priscilica not consider the threat that dire, or was it something that they weren’t particularly aware of yet? The idea that one of the most prominent wayfarer groups being unaware of that kind of thing didn’t settle in her mind particularly well, but then again it wasn’t like Mystic was exactly in a good state. Pris and Shev were the only ones who were mostly unaffected by the loss of Enos and Aaginim; and that wasn’t accounting for the schism that had occurred before the glitch. Mystic was far from being at full power and probably would be for awhile. The red-haired Japanese girl shrugged off the thought, sighing as she followed Alja into the halls.

It didn’t take long for the group to run into one of the members, given they had basically kicked in the doors and made a big show of showing up. Unfortunately, the first one they ran into was as cold and prickly as the last time Rael and Kazuki had shown up at Mystic. With her hand on the hilt of her sword, said member moved from one of the common rooms into the entranceway. Upon seeing that it was Alja leading the charge she did seem to relax her position, though not completely.

“Ah. Here I was worried over nothing.” Luci remarked as her eyes moved from Alja to Kazuki, Benkei, and finally to Rael. “What do you need. I assume you are here for a reason.”

Rael crossed her arms, Alja wanted to barge in so she could bother with dealing with the swordsinger herself.