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    1. Riaxh 12 yrs ago

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Orodyuke was just about to start on his pipe when the friendly stranger pulled up a chair opposite him. He looked very young, and short for a human. Though he wasn't sure, Orodyuke vaguely felt he might have caught a glimpse of him before back at the clinic. In any case he cast the new arrival a dull, lustreless look. He was weary after his long day, and considered asking him to leave, but a couple of things the small man had said struck a chord in him and prompted his interest. He nevertheless took a long draw from the pipe before replying, leisurely exhaling the smoke to one side through the corner of his mouth.

"Well met, Harvey the well-mannered" he rumbled. "You may hear of mine travels if you so wish, though I doubt they will bring you pleasure. It is optimistic indeed to look for stories of hope from beyond these walls. Alas, all news of promise that I have heard of late has been regarding Urenda itself. It is impressive what you have accomplished here, and many speak of it, though I wonder how long it can last." He wondered if those toiling here knew how much of a symbol they were becoming to the surrounding travellers. "Else, my tales are all of evil and misfortune" he said, gesturing at one of the fresher gashes on his forehead and scars from a few older wounds. "Or of the glory of an era gone by, the sorrow of which still weighs heavily upon mine heart."

Orodyuke paused for a moment to nurture his pipe, further appraising the young priest as he did so. "You say you serve the Lady of the Night" he prompted eventually. "Hmmm this would be Elanom, yes?" he queried, recalling the deity's name in the trade tongue. "Then maybe I could use your help." The Goddess of Reath's three moons was an entity the dwarf was particularly interested in, as unless he was mistaken, she was one of the miscellaneous deities who had experienced a large increase in worship after the descent, and was an important example of the power flux that had occurred among the gods. Orodyuke regarded the remaining priests of post apocalyptic Reath with a mixture of pity and intense envy. "I too once followed a god," he murmured slowly, for a moment becoming absorbed with tracing the knots in the wood of the heavy tavern table. "And in doing so, I led my people to their deaths." he finished flatly, resuming eye contact.

"Now I seek answers. About what a mortal man can do against the Creeping Death and other calamities, but also about the nature of our enemy. What is a god? What constraints on their power do they face? And how exactly do us mortals fit into it?"

"Superficial answers to these questions are known of course, but in the past there was never a necessity to discover more, and so these topics never seem to have been studied in any great depth, particularly the latter. Or if they have been, the knowledge was lost in the Descent." The intensity with which he spoke led to a fit of coughing, which he attempted to stifle, remembering what the healer had said. "That....Is why....I came here" He said in-between coughs. "To the place where so many priests, like yourself are gathered."

"Forgive me, but we may need to hold this for another time" he wheezed, rising. "It has been a long day."

"But I have yet to introduce myself! Orodyuke Equites, at your service" he said, presenting the man with a weathered hand to shake.
working on a reply now, though I might not be done before tomorrow :< (please don't kill me for always lurking)
Posted! Just to be clear I don't need an answer to the question at the end, it was just a way to wrap up the post.

Though I guess someone else could use it to start a conversation if they wanted.
Orodyuke lay dozing at his forge, his head resting cosily on an anvil. The oil lamps affixed to the cavern’s walls were running low, but their gentle glow sufficed to illuminate the array of tools laid out before him, from some project in the works. The low embers of the inactive forge still let out the odd crackle, and radiated a solid heat that suffused the old dwarf’s bones, bringing him all the comfort in the world. He suddenly felt a presence grow behind him, which he was vaguely aware belonged to his grandfather who, to his extreme consternation, began to beat upon his head with a silver hammer. “Rise, you dolt!” He bellowed. “It is late, and you have much ground to cover today!” Orodyuke teetered in his confusion, raising a hand to ward off the blows, only to brush against……leaves?

He opened his eyes, disorientated, discovering that he was not in his underground home, but rather wrapped in a dark green cloak, ensconced in the tree hollow he had crawled into the night before. He rose, stretching the stiffness from his limbs as he emerged from the dense foliage, glad to have once more survived the hours of darkness. It must have rained during the night, for the surrounding plants and flowers were all dappled with dew, though on closer inspection there seemed to be something black in the water, which somewhat ruined the effect.

He broke into his rations for breakfast, before snaking his way through the trees back to the High road, which was but a short distance away. Mountains dominated the skyline, and in the valley below the sanctuary of Urenda was visible, filled with torches and nestled in the burnt husk of the former port city.

I’m sleeping later he thought, squinting at the sun, which had already been up for a couple of hours. He salvaged a broken branch nearby for a walking stick, before beginning the winding descent into the valley. The monotony of the walk pleased him, and though he was alert for danger, it did not seem long before he broke through the trees and reached the outpost at the border of the city.

A young priest on watch hailed Orodyuke as he approached. “Greetings traveller! What brings you to Urenda?” he called out warily.
The dwarf slowed to a stop and replied “Rumours abound of a city that fares remarkably well in resisting the darkness that stalks these lands. I am here to see such a thing for myself and learn what I can for my research… What is the purpose of this place?”
The priest gestured at a couple of optimistic looking travellers chatting some ways behind him. “We ferry those who wish to visit the city through the ruins, which are still inhabited by all manner of demons. It is early and there are not many here yet. You can continue onward if you wish, but if you are willing to wait a while, we can have you in the walls by sunset.”
Orodyuke considered this for a moment, but by sunset was no good. He had business to attend to in the city, and told as much to the priest, who gave him instructions to reach the gates. “I can’t recommend it; you have to be quick and cautious. Good luck stranger, and beware of the structures themselves. The creatures there are cunning and may seek to crush you under some piece of masonry.”

He thanked the priest for his advice and bid him farewell. The ground from then on became hard and dry, though that also made it easier to walk on. He spied a few shapes in the distance, but otherwise crossed the fields without incident, and even paused to have his lunch in the wreck of a burnt-out mill. However when he reached the beginnings of the city proper, he paused. The air felt foul, and there was something incredibly more sinister about the closely packed buildings, which hid who knows how many watchful eyes. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and the sharp sting of fear in his stomach. He abandoned the walking stick for his sword, which sang in trembling anticipation as he removed it from his sheath, and with a deep breath advanced determinedly into the shadows.



*


"I'm fine, blast you!" the dwarf growled, shrugging off the attendee who had been attempting to measure his temperature. The healer examining him tutted, then was quiet for a moment as he packed away his instruments into a small box at his side, the silence broken by the unsettling sounds of the nearby patients.
"Well, you're not showing any of the other symptoms" he said finally. "I would keep you over night, but we're short on beds. So I guess you're free to go." The elf sighed tiredly, scribbling something down on a piece of paper and handing it to the dwarf. "Here, take this as proof that I've examined you." He gave him a serious look down his spectacles. "I recommend you do your best to avoid attracting attention like that in the future. The atmosphere is tense here at the moment, and people might not react kindly."
Orodyuke nodded, he didn't need to be told twice.
"You'll find a meal and a place to rest in the inn back down the way. I've done what I can for your cuts, so just try not to scratch them in the night. And if you find yourself suddenly feeling dizzy or nauseous, be sure to come back and see me straight away."
Orodyuke grunted in reply, relieved that he was finally being discharged, and with a wave of dismissal from the healer, made his way out of the clinic and back onto the bleak streets of Urenda.

That he had arrived at the gates battered and bleeding, wielding a bloody sword and pursued by two creatures that resembled black dogs with arms for front legs had not seemed to earn Orodyuke any points with the watchers stationed there. After dispatching the creatures they had questioned and perused him most thoroughly before allowing him entry to the city. No more than a few steps over the threshold he had been assaulted with a fit of coughing. Murmuring passersby had crossed the road to avoid him, and after exchanging a fearful glance, the guards had hauled him straight to the clinic, where he had wasted a further two hours trying to convince the healer there that it was a pre-existing condition and not a symptom of the strange illness that seemed to be intent on making its way into the city.

He reached for his pipe, as he always did when he was irritated, before remembering with a scowl that he had finished the last of his tobacco the previous day. Still, a puff through the enchanted wood eased his lungs, and he recalled briefly catching sight of a herb stall when he was being ushered in by the guards, and so he set about making his way back towards the gate.

Urenda was more than Orodyuke had dared hope for. Travellers he'd encountered on the High Road had spoken of it as a beacon of salvation and shelter. He hadn't held to such wishful thinking, but it was still more worthy of the term settlement than anywhere else he'd been on the surface. He thought the town held a kind of noble squalor. The buildings were ramshackle, the defences makeshift and the city a mere memory of what it had once been. But that was very impressive in these times. The locals were proud and determined to struggle for what they had achieved, despite the shadows that daily sought to snuff them out, and Orodyuke saw this reflected in their expressions just as much as their exhaustion.

The sun was just beginning to set as he approached the stalls. It seemed any further business would have to wait until tomorrow. A dwarf merchant watched him grimly as he inspected the weapons on display, whilst a child Orodyuke assumed was his son fed straw to the mule tied to the wagon.

It was a poor show. The armour was in scraps and many of the weapons were caked with rust. "Is most of the equipment in Urenda like this?" he asked finally, using the opportunity to speak in his native tongue.
The merchant's expression didn't change. "We have to make do with what is available."
Orodyuke nodded. "I am a blacksmith by trade. Do you know where I could make myself useful around here?"
The merchant shrugged. "Smiths are always appreciated. There may be work for you at the forge if they have the iron, or they may need help maintaining the walls." He gestured at the cathedral further up, by far the most impressive building in the city. "Go speak with the priests tomorrow, they'll let you know where you can be of most help during your stay."
Orodyuke thanked him and left. The kindly human couple across from the dwarf were beginning to pack up when he approached them, but he managed to buy enough tobacco to last him a few days, as well as a small pot containing a salve, some of which he smeared on the worst of his cuts before retiring to the inn.

The sign outside was so battered Orodyuke could not tell if the inn had once had a name, but it was cosy enough inside. He was greeted warmly and offered a simple meal, for which he gave what remained of his meagre coin. He chose a table at random, listening to the forced laughs and chatter of the other patrons as he picked grimly at his food and planned out what needed to be done the following day. I would do well not to dwell here too long. Especially if there is an epidemic on the way. For all the shelter it provided, living in Urenda seemed just as perilous as anywhere else on Reath, if not more so.

Once again he drew out his pipe, and once again fate sought to foil his endeavour. He had nothing to light it with!

A muffled curse escaped into his beard. “Innkeeper! You wouldn’t have a spare match would you?”
pfft nothing gets past you! I didn't even post that I'd made the change xD

Nice first post by the way, I don't think I've ever seen a GM set the scene so thoroughly.

hmmm not sure whether to write the whole passage to the city or just to the outpost and maybe team up with someone else and post our way through? :O
@Riaxh He's great; a former priest on an Anti-God? Hell yeah. Awesome use of lore. I love the idea of him being less powerful because of that reason, its a great way to spin it.
Please see Flora's comment for a mention of your character and make sure I am under the right impression.
I'm hesitant to let you start with an enchanted weapon, but I'm conflicted because your character knows how to do that. But if he forged that before the Descent, wouldn't it have turned against him? Or is it useless against minions of Kurladt? If it were to be forged after, I would question where he got a hold of raw mana after the Descent on the surface. Thoughts?


yays! I'm glad you consider him a worthy contribution, I liked the idea of a character who had been knocked back to square one. And yes the jerkin was literally nothing more than an item of clothing ^^

As for the sword, the reason it was the only weapon he possessed that still worked was because it was a keepsake forged in the days before he started to augment his enchanting, when he was still an apprentice and was just using his own basic skills instead of the god's power.

If having an offensive enchantment is too strong then there's always changing it to something innocuous, like the blade not rusting.
DONE! finally. sorry for the delay, hope it checks out :)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Name:
Orodyuke Equites

Age:
177

Race:
Diamond Dwarf

Appearance:
Though some streaks of black in his hair remain it has mostly turned white with age, giving the impression of ashes. Combined with his pale complexion and icy blue eyes Orodyuke has a somewhat ghostly, faded appearance. His features are lined and deep set. Only the trim and immaculate beard sported by his chin shows signs of life and that the diamond dwarf takes any care of himself. He possesses the dense, beefy musculature typically enjoyed by his race, but stands slightly short at just under four feet. Typically garbed in a simple leather jerkin and pants beneath a dark green traveling robe, he wears his shortsword belted on at his side and a pack across his back, with his pipe within easy reach.


Personality:
Bitter and world weary, Orodyuke is a shadow of his former self. Prone to being gruff and withdrawn, he is also almost paradoxically interested in the stories of those around him, and is a great believer in the capacity of people. The suffering he sees gives strength to the seething anger he holds for Mitchin and his kin, and his desire to protect and avenge those betrayed by their gods.

Morality / Religion:
Having formerly been a devoted priest of Kurladt, the betrayal of the god shattered Orodyuke’s trust in the divine and left him shaken. For a time, he no longer knew what to believe in. But seeing how the mortal races continued to strive and persevere rekindled the determination within him, and with it a desire to put right what his patron god has wrought. He holds no apathy for the remaining gods, but wishes fervently for mortals to be able to defy their oppressors under their own power.


Biography:
In the golden age of plenty prior to the Great Descent, Orodyuke was a famed priest of the god Kurladt, and upheld his values as a smith and enchanter in the Diamond Dwarf city wherein he dwelt. The world was a wide and bountiful place, and many came from across the land bearing gold and other treasures to his hearth. Orodyuke gave these in offering to the god, who rewarded his follower with the powers to forge wonders from steel and mana for those who needed them. He plied his craft for over a century, hammering out the god’s will and deriving satisfaction from the quality his creations brought to people’s lives.

Then without warning, the days came when the Great Creator turned Destroyer, and a blight came to the land. Terror grew in the hearts of the people, who spoke of whole cities levelled with a breath and shadow beasts sweeping through tunnels, killing everything they encountered. Realizing death was closing in, Orodyuke abandoned his forge, taking only his hammer, and distributed what artefacts there were to the few warriors they had left, and attempted to lead his congregation up to the surface before it was too late.

The abominations fell on them a few hours outside the city. Weapons of legend, charged with the powers of the elements beat uselessly against their armoured hides, and shattered in their bearer’s hands after but a couple of blows. Armour crafted to resist the strongest magic collapsed under their rending claws. It was then with horror that Orodyuke realised that these creatures sent to kill them were of Kurladt himself, and all hope was lost. The blood of his people soaked the tunnels, and only those weapons that were not forged by the god-smith’s power seemed to help withstand the monstrosities.

When at last the few survivors who had managed to break free reached the surface, what greeted them was a world of death and despair. The dwarves tried to find somewhere safe to hide, but after losing everything from his home to his religion Orodyuke needed answers, and so set off again soon afterwards. The things he saw shook him to the core, but the efforts of those who still struggled helped him find his lost sense of purpose. He vowed to do everything he could to help restore the world, and make the gods feel their mistake.

He now travels, searching for ways to combat the descent and the Creeping Death without relying on the gods, and with that aim has arrived in the port town of Urenda, one of the few remaining places that supports a sizeable population.


Other Notes:
- The condition is not severe, but the years spent pouring over a forge and being a strong smoker have left Orodyuke weak of lung.
- Having spent little time outside his homeland, Orodyuke has a rather thick accent.


Class:
Mage (former priest)


Skill Points:
6 / 6


Fighting Style:
[1SP] By the Book: Orodyuke has drilled with a variety of weapons in order further his understanding as a smith, however he has little actual combat experience which makes his swordplay very standard and inflexible.


Magic Style:
[Starter] Mana Weaving: Though relatively new to magery and inexperienced, Orodyuke brings with him his experience with infusing mana and knowledge of metallurgy to access the Elemental and Natural aspects of the Primal magic school, specialising in manipulating spells and bolstering his allies’ equipment or weakening his enemies’.


Weapons / Tools:
  • [Dwarf] An old shortsword that was originally forged and enchanted by Orodyuke back in the day as a showpiece to complete his apprenticeship. It was enchanted to never rust and withstand the test of time.


Skills / Abilities:
  • [1SP] Smithing: Orodyuke is a practiced smith.
  • [1SP] Enchanting: Though the gifts granted to him by Kurladt are gone, Orodyuke remains knowledgeable in the art of enchanting.


Natural Abilities:
  • [Diamond Dwarf] Enchanting: As a diamond dwarf, Orodyuke is a natural enchanter.
  • [1SP] Magical Affinity: Though most dwarves seem to be less effective at accessing and manipulating magic, Orodyuke does not seem to suffer from this trait.


Spells / Magical Abilities:
  • [Starter] Dispel: Breaks or negates the effects of a spell in progress. Effort required relative to strength of the magic in question as well as the “amount” of the magic being dispelled. Mostly limited to effects that would vanish by themselves after a duration. (e.g magical barriers, an ally has been rooted to the ground etc).
  • [1SP] Fragile: Renders target material brittle and crumbly by targeting the molecular structure.
  • [1SP] Thunderstrike: A bolt of lightning springs from the caster to the target, which can be sustained if desired, though the caster can do little else while this is happening due to the concentration necessary. Other than damaging, the spell is designed to stun or impede enemy movement. More resilient targets require more effort to be expended.


Miscellaneous:
N/A

General Equipment:
  • Pack
  • Small amount of money
  • Two days supply
  • Large forge hammer
  • An old pipe, enchanted to ease breathing
  • Empty tobacco wallet

@Riaxh I see you there, lurking.


Caught in the act xD

I've been working on a CS. Should be done tomorrow. Been mulling over a dwarven enchanter, but I'm slightly unsure how to spec that magic style wise. Any tips?

Don't worry. I just wanted the islands to have changed him a bit that's all, and make his survival seem a bit more feasible. Starting my post now! though it might not be up till tomorrow.
Behold! I am here to inject new life into the RP! I hope you find my CS acceptable. I apologize in advance for the long winded history. The more I wrote the more I felt I needed to add >.<
Name: Clovis Tak'gault
Age: 25
Nationality: Eve. Half Kantleian.

Appearance: Clovis stands at about 6’1 with olive skin and unkempt hair black as pitch, which appears to have been crudely cut back by means of a knife. Clovis’ eyes are a gently luminous green; the result of contact with a strange magic in The No Man’s Land (see backstory). His armour is patched together from plates of bone taken from the skeleton of some long dead creature he found there.

Personality: Clovis is the kind of person who finds everything difficult, and the eternal struggle to survive has transformed him into a man who is always focused on the task at hand, no matter how small. His life has been condensed into a series of goals; everything from resting, finding food, evading an enemy, to mapping the islands and finding the lost stone. His every action is directed at getting to the next objective. He is not fearless, but rather is calculating and has learnt to take ruthless action under pressure. Socially, his hermitage has left him silent and withdrawn; emerging from his inner thoughts only to deliver gruff, guarded responses, though after his isolation he’s actually very glad of any company.

Background: Clovis was always something of an explorer, having strongly inherited the love of nature from his father’s side. He would frequently roam the island with his companion, Lucidia; A giant eagle he encountered injured as a chick and nursed back to health.
This carefree youth ended however, when on one of their expeditions, Clovis’ twin brother, with whom he shared a strong bond, suffered an accident that left him in a vegetative state. Struck by grief and blaming himself, Clovis accompanied his family to the capital to seek the aid of the Emerald of Felicity to heal him. However his father was a mere scholar and his mother was from Kantle, so they gained no audience.
Clovis in particular could not accept this, vowing instead to recover the Sapphire of Mystery, the only other chance there might be of restoring his brother’s mind, and after a while set out for The No Man’s Land with all his father had gathered on the stone, Lucida by his side, leaving his brother in the care of his parents.

Initially he travelled the more well-known islands that surrounded Eve, making notes about the varied flora and fauna in his journal and adding to the maps he had brought with him. However as he pressed further it wasn’t long before he was swallowed up by the unknown heart of the islands, where rolling clouds of mist obscured the skies for miles around. Clovis realised that among such wilderness his only hope was to explore and map each island as he came to it, especially if he was to ever find the way home, and this became his main objective.
However no amount of trekking in the forests of Eve could have prepared him for exploring the islands, when each one seemed to have its own ecology that tried to kill you in different ways. Getting food and avoiding becoming it occupied most of his time, and often he only survived due to Lucidia’s intervention or blind pot luck. These incidents became fewer as he began to understand the wild, but whole months would drag by with unacceptable progress on the maps. Months turned into three years, during which he returned to Eve only twice, to discover his father had died, giving strength to his resolve.

But it seems nothing can remain unscathed in the No Man’s Land forever, and whilst hunting in a jungle one day he heard a roar on his tail so fearsome and unnatural that even Lucidia abandoned him, taking to the skies in a mad frenzy. Clovis trampled through the undergrowth like a madman; his only thought to escape the terrible presence he could feel was now right behind him.
What happened next he does not remember, but when he regained consciousness, he found himself in some kind of stone dwelling, looking into the familiar yellow eyes of a giant eagle. Of his rescuer there was no sign. The residence seemed long abandoned, though the architecture was faintly similar to what he had seen in ruins on other islands. Whatever or whoever had saved him had also tended to his wounds, and more alarmingly, had done something to his eyes, for they now glowed an unsettling green and allowed him to see in the dark. His other senses also felt slightly enhanced.
Emerging into the open he discovered he had been left on a different, unfamiliar island; and a few days of surveying the surrounding masses confirmed what he feared: he was lost. His ability to survive soared in wake of his transformation, and he made rapid progress on mapping the surrounding islands, using the strange dwelling as his new base, but no matter how hard he searched, he never encroached on familiar territory. His saviour may have given him the tools to live, but he no longer knew the way home. He was just another creature wandering the islands.

However even lost among the forgotten, the grip of the war still found Clovis. After a further six months of roaming, he came across a worn down party of soldiers from Eve, and so learned of the blackness that had fallen over the kingdoms. Clovis immediately began to fear for his family, as his mother was Kantleian and the soldiers’ tales of foreigners being imprisoned and torn apart by mobs told him it was time to go back.
For their part the soldiers explained that they were an independent movement from one of the towns to establish a forward base on the islands, in order to circumvent the front lines and conduct scouting sorties into Kantle and Rose. Clovis wasn’t much of a patriot, but he still felt duty to his kin and so he gave them what help he could, including his sanctuary to use, as it was well hidden, and for whatever reason beasts did not seem to stray near it.
In exchange they promised to show him the way home, but time passed and they proved reluctant to give up such an asset of local knowledge. They asked more and more of him, and before they knew it Clovis and Lucidia were being sent on their first scouting mission into Rose, back into the civilized world.

Other:
- Clovis can see better in darkness, and has slightly heightened senses, due to his strange encounter.
- Clovis is as close as you can get to an atheist on Roulit, though after his experiences in the No Man’s Land he is not foolish enough to doubt the existence of the likes of Alk’endune and Ghilan’dain.
- Clovis is a survivor, and his skills are those of a hunter and explorer, relying on ambush and stealth to fell opponents. He therefore remains a rather unskilled combatant.
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