RoflsMazoy

L'Mordryn Academy

Clarence is relatively new, and owing to his natural nervousness I doubt he'd have joined a club yet. ^^;

L'Mordryn Academy

@RoflsMazoy
Ok, so it says nether Mort nor Orewing was summoned from a realm...and Mort is basically an earthbound spirit who became Clarence's companion...which is fine...so where did Orewing come from? Nothing's wrong, I just feel like I'm missing a piece of the story.

@Artifex

Oh right I forgot about Orewing, but it is just a normal hammer. I'd say he either had Orewing forged discretely or found it, I guess I'll go with forged since it has a unique design. But other than that the sheet is fine?

L'Mordryn Academy

@Artifex
Here we go I finished Clarence and Mort.

There's a bunch of stuff in there I think I'll need you to look at since I don't know how much of the things I assumed are alright by you. I'm also not really sure what level to put him under given the circumstances, so some feedback on that would be nice too.

Though, it's about time for me to sleep so I won't be able to act on any feedback for a while.

Clarence and Mort

Name | Clarence Chaunce Veill
Age | 15
Gender | Male
Level/Tier | Adept 1
House | House Phantasma
Appearance/Attire | Clarence stands at 5 foot 6, a little short for the males in his family, which is something he developed a complex about. He has red hair and soft brown eyes, and although he tries his hardest to glare, the most serious looking he can get is mildly focused.

Alignment | Companion

Personality/Habits | Clarence tries to keep a collected expression at all times but it is only there to hide the soft interior underneath. Clarence is a rather anxious individual, and he gets stressed easily. He begins to worry about assignments and deadlines more than a week before they would normally matter. L'Mordryn is less stringent on assignments but ultimately tests give him more grief. He's always afraid of his secret being exposed, and losing the footing he's tried his hardest to reach with his own power.

Background | The Veill family is a relatively young noble family. However, in recent years they have come beholden to many strong Invokers. They had success after success, until finally it came down to Clarence. The story of how he came to deal with such pressure from his family is a story for another time, but just know that the pressure was there when it comes to the story of Mort.

Clarence showed his talent by summoning a familiar before he had even entered L'Mordryn. A possessed hammer with an extremely strong link. The Veill family felt right to send him off to L'Mordryn when he became of age, where he quickly gained the rank of adept.

Mort wasn't what he had told his family his familiar was named. He told them it was named Orewing, which wasn't a falsehood. Orewing was what he named the hammer. He had summoned neither the hammer nor the spirit possessing it from a realm.

On a rainy day they had met.
--
"What's your name?" A slightly younger Clarence asked.

"I don't know," The spirit replied.

"Where did you come from?"

"...It's not a place to come back to." He sounded melancholic.

"…What should I call you?"

"…Mort."
--
The word Mort was the only thing left on his tombstone. He awoke as a spirit bound to the realm. He knew he had once been alive, and now he was not alive, but he knew nothing else. He knew his body was there because he had risen from it, but there was nothing else for him there, so he left. And he wandered. And then they met.

The rest is history. Clarence, for once in his life, found he had the desire to do something for someone else. An earthbound spirit was something he'd never heard of, and something he could find no information on when he looked in the library. But how about the Realms? Could he be recognized by another familiar?

House Phantasma may hold the answer. And so he tries his hardest to hone his skills. Sharpen his vision. To find the answer to the question he had asked, and so the deception may one day meet its end.

Favorite Summons | Mort/Orewing
Orewing is a steel war-hammer with a vastly shortened grip, only just enough for two hands to wield. It is adorned with a face on one side, and wing motifs throughout. Orewing is not special in any way other than perhaps the unique design, Clarence had it forged discretely, and the design was to attract attention to make the ruse less conspicuous.

Mort is an earthbound lesser spirit with the power of possession. Once an object is possessed, Mort can manipulate the object by moving it around, similarly to a poltergeist. Mort cannot possess anything larger or heavier than Orewing at this current point in time, but weight and size don't affect Mort's manoeuvrability much while possessing an item. He is able to fly with ease, and can even carry Clarence if Clarence is holding on to Orewing.

Mort feels like a sort of mentor to Clarence. Clarence knows more about the world, but he has a tendency to second guess himself and his knowledge. Mort knows little but is firm in what he knows, and he knows Clarence isn't all fakery and bluster. He can see the potential Clarence has, and though it may never reach the heights Clarence imagines he must reach, Mort will help him until he no longer can.

L'Mordryn Academy

Came in to say hello.

I'll be bringing a fairly unusual character to this RP, I think. :D

I haven't written anything yet but I should have it done by the end of the day. Hope you won't mind having me

Royal Rumble!

A King's Gambit, 1

"Now!" King shouted.

Would the masked man be surprised that, as he returned to their dimension, Alto had replaced his Blade of Light with King's net? If not, maybe he would be surprised when the scream that sunders dimensions failed to render Alto to dust. It wasn't as if the net could absorb all of it unless he happened to be right in his face, and he wouldn't have been ready for any other attack.

King knew where he was coming, and just about knew when, but without knowing what he would do there was only one way King could prepare. He could just leave the job to someone else.

Alto had faster reflexes than he did, so all he had to do was give him the strongest shield. The masked man didn't use weapons, so if he were to appear outside of melee range it would be for a ranged non-weapon attack, which the net wasn't exactly rated for, but it would work.

There was no pre-emptive strike he could've readied, even with a warship in orbit. When the masked man could slip dimensions like that that means they had to save the bombardment for when they'd really need it.

Alto held the net in front of him feeling as foolish as one could get holding out a net to catch soundwaves which could rip apart dimensional walls. It was strange. Where the net was, not even a whisper came through, but it couldn't cover all of Alto. The net itself was also shaking violently. As it wrenched itself free from his grasp he unleashed his counterattack.

"Hyperlight… Stream!" Alto called.

A beam of light shot out from his finger, racing directly for the masked cultist's neck. At the same time, King came down from behind, bringing his Lightsabre to bear towards the cultist's head.
@KillamriX88

Royal Rumble!

---

"You never told me what those... Tools were for," Alto said.

"Oh yeah, well right now they're for nothing." King said. He put the sack and net in his cape and suddenly they were gone. "It did its job already."

In its place he pulled out his usual weapon.

Another ability, then? Or some sort of technology? Frankly the enigma known as King was one he didn't have the energy to deal with today. Even if the incident ended well, there was a lot of clean-up to see to. Still, if there was one thing he needed to take away from the experience, it was that King didn't wield a simple bag of tricks, he was wielding force here. One way or another it was always hard for him to take King seriously until the fight began. But when the fight began, Alto could feel conviction in his every strike.

There was a lot to King. He needed to know more if he wanted to be his enemy, or his ally.

"Go for the knees, I'll go for the eyes," King said.

No more talking then. Alto would lead in with a God Speed Flash and strike from behind then.

"Proceed," Alto said as they launched into action.

@Gentlemanvaultboy@KillamriX88

Royal Rumble!

The Airship

"Jokey, how's our viewcount?!" Drake called over to her side.

"Enough," He replied.

For a normal captain on a normal ship their station would be at the helm, but they were on the deck right now. The rest of the ship had been emptied of its inhabitants. The boarding lines retracted inwards because it would look weird if they stayed out. Jokey was sitting down with a laptop out in front of him, connected to a slew of expensive looking equipment. It was clearly a recording set-up, or perhaps even a streaming set-up, as well as several other monitors strewn about keeping eyes on various news feeds and surveillance cameras.

"Alright, let's go live in a minute or so, Jokey how do I look?"

She'd managed to grab an appropriate pirate outfit in time for the summons after the rest. Had to look the part, after all.

"You honestly expect me to be able to do anything if you look bad? We didn't bring the right stuff, although I don't know what the hell that'd be for a makeup tech."

"You didn't even grab a mirror?" Drake pouted.

"I'll black out one of the monitors for you, should be shiny enough to see your relfection." He fired back without so much as looking up from the screen.

"Guh, guess it's good enough. I can't really be that picky, anyway, let's get this show on the road." She said, psyching herself up.

The man she called Jokey pressed a button and the equipment surged with power. A digital portal opened in the air, right on deck.

"We're coming to you live from Demon War 1.1! For those viewers only just now tuning in to whatever's going on, we're currently floating right above the big boss at the center of it all. Unfortunately since we don't really know anything else there's nothing else to report on, so let's get to the main event! Log in and get to battle stations!" Drake said to the camera.

This wasn't exactly being broadcast onto all the nearby news stations or anything like that. They were just streaming online directly to their viewers. But on the S. S. Cervantes, this act meant so much more. Through the portal small spirit like sprites appeared. This was a very unorthodox way to harness a platform for sure. Those at home tuning into the stream would find that an extra button had appeared on their screens.

For every person who pressed a button, a sprite appeared. Their perspective suddenly changed from the camera to the sprite's.

"It's a few of you each to a cannon, it's the first time I've done this so I can't tell you how many, but it should pop up on your screen if you look at it!"

Controls for the sprite were WASD, space bar for rising, and control for falling. When they went to a part of a cannon, a short tutorial would pop up telling them how to operate each part. Each sprite could only manipulate one part of the cannon, but roles could be rotated without issue. In the end, all of them would be firing the trigger as well.

"Take aim and hold it!" Drake shouted. Administrative controls were in Jokey's hands so they wouldn't be able to fire before he released them anyhow. "We wait for the signal, then we fire!"
@Gentlemanvaultboy@KillamriX88

Royal Rumble!

Return of the King

If a certain person were to sum up the situation, perhaps they would call it unprofitable. The tournament was likely to be cancelled after this. Too many fighters injured, too many souls scarred. Strictly unprofitable. But you can't make a profit without people to profit from. And an apocalypse event would really hurt his baseline.

"Everything's ready on this side," The voice on the other side of the line said.

"You work fast, as always," King said.

He stood on top of the arena looking down at the chaos below. In one hand, a really big butterfly net. In his other, a really big sack full of… something. He had his phone on speaker resting on his shoulder.

"I would've appreciated more warning."

"Me too," He said. "I've got one more visit in order, just send them in. Priority is staying alive, secondary is handling the situation."

With that he hung up and made his way to the stands, to perhaps the only person who saw him up above the arena. Alto.

"You're going to fight, aren't you?" King said as he touched down.

Alto just looked over him with a sour expression on his face.

"What is that ridiculous getup?" He said.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," King said.

He reached into his sack and tossed a tiny device over to Alto.

"It'll stop the bleeding. It uses expanding foam to seal the wound, and your cells will eat it away as you heal. It won't do that much for you right now, but you won't bleed out."

Alto grudgingly used the device. Prideful as he was he had more to do today which bleeding out would've put an unfortunate stop to.

"What a mess of a day this is," King said. "There's no way you could've seen all this coming, I'd say you're doing alright as far as I can tell."

"Cut the small talk. You were ready for this," Alto said. King seemed far too at ease in almost every scenario, but now? Even Alto was hard pressed to keep calm. "What's your play here?"

"Well…" King said, a smile creeping onto his face. "I'm just here to save the day."

A shadow fell over the arena. Up in the sky, emerging from a pixelated portal was a fully armed modern warship. From the ground, its flag was just about discernible. A spray-painted purple Jolly Roger on a grey flag.

"…What did you do?" Alto said.

"I just asked." King shrugged. "A few of them owed me a favour, but this isn't exactly about that. A lot of them are just more virtuous than I am."

To sign up for the Vigilantes there were relatively few hurdles. One of those was you needed a phone number. In this day and age it was always a good idea to have an extra layer of security for personal accounts. However, it did also allow them to do something like this.

It would've been easy to miss in the chaos that the arena had become, but it wasn't for the Vigilantes trapped there, after all.

A mass-text message sent to every registered Vigilante. There were many who weren't participating in the tournament that day for various reasons. It goes without saying but the Vigilantes had many members. Almost innumerable. Having a low barrier for entry however meant there were many that couldn't quite be counted on to show up just at the word of the leader. There were many who weren't the most serious about ideals. Though King had mentioned virtue, virtue was no guarantor. But they did have a sort of unofficial catch phrase. The right virtues in the right places can make all the difference.

"This is DJ Drake asking you one question and one question only!" Came a familiar loud voice over the megaphones. Up on the deck of the ship, a familiar purple-haired DJ stood. "Rhea! Are! You! Ready!"

Suddenly dozens of ropes rolled out from the sides of the ship. Then they came. Some of them known Vigilantes, some fighters from the Midnight Tournament, even Vigilantes in school uniforms who very clearly hadn't had stopping an Demon Incursion on their schedule that day but had decided to come regardless.

They came down on the ropes, or in free-fall.

"Well, I said virtue but we're more of a fame and fortune type of group in the end." King said. "There's enough adrenaline for the junkies, enough blood for the fight addicts, and enough cultists for everybody's five seconds of fame. But, even if I bring them all, against him, it might not be enough. I'm not sending anyone to fight him. Technically I'm not sending them anywhere, but they can't fight him."

The masked man in the arena. The Demon. It was impossible to discern his expression, what he thought of the situation. Alto understood King's plan now. It was clear he knew something more, but it wouldn't matter. It was clear enough that if Alto and King didn't engage the Demon in the centre of the Arena, something undesirable would occur.

"What do you say, Child of Light? Do you want the guts? Or the glory?"

Alto gave King one last look before sighing and drawing his sword to his side.

"Glory it is."

@KillamriX88@Gentlemanvaultboy

Royal Rumble!

[Previous post pasted elsewhere, pending changes]

Royal Rumble!

Galliere, the Knight

"A moment thee hast already claimed. A few more may not cause harm." Galliere replied with her back turned towards William, before she dramatically turned around on her boots, her white cape flowing up as she did, taking a pose with one hand at her blade and the other by her waist. Not in a combat-like pose, more the kind you would expect to find in old drawings.

"Thine name dost precede thee, sir William. I know whom thou art. This mutual acquintance thee speak of herein, be mine brother."

The blonde young woman took a few steps forwards, down some short stairs, her metal boots causing an echo in the chamber they both now were within.

"Be it slander if it be the truth? Not always is the truth beautiful nor be it something thee want. Despite so, some go seeking for it relentlessly. What be this agreement thou seek, sir William of the Ascots?"

William gave a slight bow. "Two people are corrosive to the defense of Rhea against a future 'Greater Evil'; Vittorio Twinveil and your brother, Galbrek Ravenovich, and this corrosion cannot be cured by their deaths - if anything, their deaths would just cause greater damage to Rhea's capability to protect itself. No, rather, they need to be... Resolved. Thier issues have to be settled in a way that is healthy for them and would also add to the numbers of Rhea's defenders."

A pause. "Your fellow Vigilante, Alexandria Sova, or Andras, Lady of Despair as she prefers to be known, is helping me ressurect Vittorio's friends and family; a true ressurection instead of mere imitation. One more can be added to the list of people to bring back, one more that will create a vital bulwark for this city."

Another pause. "I believe you know who I am speaking of... But therein lies the rub; Andras will not be willing to do something good for the one who has ordered her kidnapping multiple times."

Galliere stood silent hearing out what William had to say.

"I do not know of this Vittorio Twinveil. In regards of mine brother however. He does what he deems to be right. Be it any different from what thee believe is right? Methods may differ, but many believe their way is the right one to tread."

"I dost know of Andras. She hast found comfort in the library, amidst the company of books. As hast I." Galliere took out a book hidden by her belt, just under the cover of her white mantle.

"A happy ending where all the dead of the world come alife anew. How many dost thee believe hast perished since the beginning of life? How many deserved it? Would they too fall into thine quest?" Galliere sheathed her sword and began to open the book she had retrieved from her belt.

"Every story hast a beginning and an end, not all whom were there at the start be there at the end. Not in physical form, only in the memory of those they leave behind as long as they pass their story on. But it is thanks to those memories that others be able to take the necessary steps forth, be they for good or evil. Whom art thou to decide if people die or not? Art thou flawless nay a god?"

Galliere began to draw a symbol using a finger midair. "Gaze upon thyself from the eyes of others. Those whom thee hast judged, let them judge thee now instead."

"Reincarnation!" She spoke out in a clear voice, a chant of magical nature. A spell? The are would seem to fill with magical darkness and to begin to be flooded by William's memories. She would show William visages, drawn from William's own memories of people and animals he may have willingly or unwillingly hurt. Allowing him to feel their happiness, but also anger, pain and sorrow. How his own words and actions have caused ripples and effects to those in his surrounding. She would wait until her spell would fade, she had been unable to move or do anything while focusing on her spell. Neither had she been able to get any glimses into William's mind.

"Darla; the doll girl who died a second time," William said as his head and shoulders slumped down. "Wolf, Vera, Vernon, and Alexander, my brother. Meredith, Andras herself, Fegin, Adam, and Bak. I've hurt so many, I've hurt so much."

But he didn't lose himself in the pain and anger; it was the sorrow that did it. "It's my ego, isn't it? My narcissism and desire to justify it with self-righteousness. There is also my desire for a neat and happy ending."

As he said this, he noticed that part of him was refusing to yield, even to such sadness. This part wept with them, but stuck to its guns, stuck to a position and never gave way. And when the spell faded, William had this to say, "I hurt so many and I want to stop. For once in my life, I want to stop my activities, my web, and my desire to be important. I just want to enjoy my childhood and studies and my life."

He breathed hard. "Galiere, my pride has played a part in all this; my grand designs are as nothing compared to this cold hard reality."

Facing her, he spoke, "But how can I just watch as so much that was good, that can still be good, rots away before burning itself out? How can I just watch people suffer and do nothing to help? And all the while... There is a threat approaching us all; the very Greater Evil that King believes in. How can I just stand by and watch ruin come?"

A further look, then a sigh. "But that doesn't exempt me from having to watch myself. It doesn't exempt me from the responsibility not to hurt others. My cause does not make all of my actions sarcosanct."

"Darla hast died? I see." Galliere said in a questioning manner, but one that wouldn't need replying to as she nodded softly.

"Indeed. Thee art only one of many in the world. I too desire the ending to be a happy one. So do most people. Think of what makes thee happy, join those who share similar a vision. No matter what thee will always have enemies and those who refuse thine future."

"My brother, Galbrek believes that humanity deserves to be destroyed for the things they hast done. Be he wrong? Why be he wrong? My answer is because evil takes many forms, it does not only lie within humans alone. This is where myself and my brother differ."

Galliere softly exhaled. "The hatred is what drives him forth. It blinds him from past and future. His greatest weakness is his heart, which only one living soul has been able to touch. What will happen the day he realizes that soul belongs to a human? He will be unable to proceed the way he has done. He will cease to be. His view on humankind broken."

"Sir William. Keep fighting what thee believe in but do so with consideration to those around thee. Ally or foe. Know what thine act shalt bring."

A smile from Will, and another nod. "Thank you. Does this mean that other than a reminder to be humble, no other help will come from you, though?"

Galliere partly repeated herself. "His heart can be reached and breached by a human soul. The first of the many. The one which lingers no matter how hard the wind blows. The one whose trying to fill up the hole left behind. Only by losing that will he realize his error." Galliere turned to walk back up to the altar and the stage of the chamber. "What else do thee need sir William, than thine determination firm... thine mission and vision clear. Nothing else dost thee need apart from time. Treasure it dearly."

"Thank you; I will," William said. "And I will be more honest to those whose help I need; Andras first."

"That I can not help thee with. Look around if thee so wish, but do not cause trouble." Galliere answered before sitting down on a chair at a desk, placing a large book down at it before dipping an ink pen to begin writing something.
"Mayhaps the library holds the answers thee seek, sir William."

William smiled, and then began to head out of the room... Before turning back and asking one last question:

"One more thing, Galiere; there are rumors of the Priest who still owns this church being here. Where can he be found if it is allowed to seek him out?"

"Thou shalt have to ask King, sir William. He may answer more than I am allowed or prone to tell."

A nod at that. "Then I will ask King. Thanks!"
And with that, he left the room.