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How ominous...
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- TheMerlin 4 yrs ago
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Wind's howling.
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2 yrs ago
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2 yrs ago
Looks like I'm a casual roleplayer after all.
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2 yrs ago
Such is the role player's life
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3 yrs ago
Mummies were also used for paint and fertiliser. The more you know!
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Most Recent Posts
Alright, I'll be waiting impatiently ;)
Nah jk, take your time. Sounds like you got a lot in store for us, but eh, what are 'Enders'?
Nah jk, take your time. Sounds like you got a lot in store for us, but eh, what are 'Enders'?
Ah okay, cool. I think I'm starting to get a clearer picture of Avelore now. Anyways, still a bit of a culture shock for our boy Corvo here. He's used to being surrounded by water. Literally. It's something I haven't gotten to mention in IC yet, but the royal palace in Olysium was smack dab in the middle of a big lake with the rest of the city sitting along the shoreline.
Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever really described it before. Did that ever come up in Jewel of the Skies?
Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever really described it before. Did that ever come up in Jewel of the Skies?
Alright, finished my post and changed a few bits too. Just to be clear, there are walls blocking view of the Harbour, right? I mean that's the impression I got, but I'll change it if I assumed incorrectly.
Sorry I couldn't finish my post, it's cutting into my sleep. I'll try to finish it tomorrow.
Leaving the Lightning Runner behind and paying no heed to the curious stares of the dockworkers, Corvo followed as Gerhardt led the way through the Harbour. The spymaster seemed to move as though he had been here a hundred times before, which he very well might have owing to the nature of his role as a spymaster. Though for what reason or business of state, Corvo could only imagine. He was not privy to such information nor did he have any inclination to learn it before. This, he realized, was something that needed to change if he was to reclaim his kingdom one day, but for now all he could do was allow himself to be led around like a dog on a leash.
"Stay close and don’t wander off," Gerhardt said as he began ascending the steps up to the city proper.
"I am not a child," Corvo replied indignantly as he followed, leaving the clammy darkness of the Harbour and stepping into the light.
Then they entered through the gates and before them lay a gigantic open street filled with vendors and all sorts of people shouting and moving about with their wares. Litters, palanquins and phaetons rolled along amidst the crowd, and every once in a while there were a couple of guards walking by on patrol, wearing distinct uniforms, but there also were a lot of striders and sellswords, free roaming warriors who would fight for gold or glory.
“Welcome Duncan to the Grand Market,” Gerhardt said with a soft chuckle.
"Yes, grand is apt," Corvo agreed. Grand, gaudy and... utterly alien. It was as though they had been transported to a different world entirely. One without the hum of shuttlecraft engines flying overhead or any sight of water beyond the gates to the Harbour, so high stood the walls around it. In place of sleek skyscrapers, there were gargantuan palace sized houses surrounded by innumerable smaller structures and then there was the High Castle itself, utterly dwarfing all else around it and turning day to night wherever its shadow was cast. It was as though the entire city was one great monument to the very idea of extravagance. Was this what the Priestdom was like even before the breaking of the world?
As Corvo looked around trying to take it all in, his thoughts were interrupted by a young woman stepping directly in front of him. "Well hello young master..." her hoarse voice whispered as she blocked his line of sight. "New in town? Let me show you a good time, this city has much to offer to someone... as virile as you."
"Let go of me," Corvo demanded, affronted by the woman's brazenness as she draped herself over his arm. Even during his sojourns to the city night life of Olysium, travelling incognito with fellow youths and companions, no one had ever approached him in such a brash manner before.
“I could make your stay worthwhile, you would never wish for anything for your pleasure is my forte.”
Her lips breathed on his skin as her eyes tried to lock him down. Ensnare him and strip away his defiance. This only served to further irritate the prince however and he was about to push her away when they were interrupted and forced to make room. It was a procession, a parade to celebrate the newest Courtesan. Yet another thing unlike Olysium where its own red light districts were far less conspicuous.
What fresh hell is this? Corvo wondered as he watched the procession go by, but then the Courtesan looked his way and the moment their eyes met, he had forgotten all about the girl hanging on his arm. Fiery red hair, sultry green eyes, head held high and walking tall like a proud noblewoman, refined and statuesque... she was a looker for sure.
Then her eyes shifted to the other girl who returned a glare of contempt and the Courtesan spoke, her voice light and soothing like fresh spring water, "I think not that he is receptive to your touches Azheera."
A snort full of disdain followed as the girl let go of Corvo's arm, clearly outmatched in this exchange. Then the Courtesan's eyes returned to the prince, taking him in for a moment before she mysteriously smiled.
"You’re welcome..." the gentlest whisper graced his ears as she turned and went back to her parade.
The procession once more started and the crier once again shouted, “Behold the Emberflame of the City! Semantine! Behold her a gentle fire of beauty and passion.”
"Um..." was the only response Corvo could muster as he stared after the Courtesan for a moment longer before turning towards Gerhardt. "What were we doing here again?"
"Stay close and don’t wander off," Gerhardt said as he began ascending the steps up to the city proper.
"I am not a child," Corvo replied indignantly as he followed, leaving the clammy darkness of the Harbour and stepping into the light.
Then they entered through the gates and before them lay a gigantic open street filled with vendors and all sorts of people shouting and moving about with their wares. Litters, palanquins and phaetons rolled along amidst the crowd, and every once in a while there were a couple of guards walking by on patrol, wearing distinct uniforms, but there also were a lot of striders and sellswords, free roaming warriors who would fight for gold or glory.
“Welcome Duncan to the Grand Market,” Gerhardt said with a soft chuckle.
"Yes, grand is apt," Corvo agreed. Grand, gaudy and... utterly alien. It was as though they had been transported to a different world entirely. One without the hum of shuttlecraft engines flying overhead or any sight of water beyond the gates to the Harbour, so high stood the walls around it. In place of sleek skyscrapers, there were gargantuan palace sized houses surrounded by innumerable smaller structures and then there was the High Castle itself, utterly dwarfing all else around it and turning day to night wherever its shadow was cast. It was as though the entire city was one great monument to the very idea of extravagance. Was this what the Priestdom was like even before the breaking of the world?
As Corvo looked around trying to take it all in, his thoughts were interrupted by a young woman stepping directly in front of him. "Well hello young master..." her hoarse voice whispered as she blocked his line of sight. "New in town? Let me show you a good time, this city has much to offer to someone... as virile as you."
"Let go of me," Corvo demanded, affronted by the woman's brazenness as she draped herself over his arm. Even during his sojourns to the city night life of Olysium, travelling incognito with fellow youths and companions, no one had ever approached him in such a brash manner before.
“I could make your stay worthwhile, you would never wish for anything for your pleasure is my forte.”
Her lips breathed on his skin as her eyes tried to lock him down. Ensnare him and strip away his defiance. This only served to further irritate the prince however and he was about to push her away when they were interrupted and forced to make room. It was a procession, a parade to celebrate the newest Courtesan. Yet another thing unlike Olysium where its own red light districts were far less conspicuous.
What fresh hell is this? Corvo wondered as he watched the procession go by, but then the Courtesan looked his way and the moment their eyes met, he had forgotten all about the girl hanging on his arm. Fiery red hair, sultry green eyes, head held high and walking tall like a proud noblewoman, refined and statuesque... she was a looker for sure.
Then her eyes shifted to the other girl who returned a glare of contempt and the Courtesan spoke, her voice light and soothing like fresh spring water, "I think not that he is receptive to your touches Azheera."
A snort full of disdain followed as the girl let go of Corvo's arm, clearly outmatched in this exchange. Then the Courtesan's eyes returned to the prince, taking him in for a moment before she mysteriously smiled.
"You’re welcome..." the gentlest whisper graced his ears as she turned and went back to her parade.
The procession once more started and the crier once again shouted, “Behold the Emberflame of the City! Semantine! Behold her a gentle fire of beauty and passion.”
"Um..." was the only response Corvo could muster as he stared after the Courtesan for a moment longer before turning towards Gerhardt. "What were we doing here again?"
"Yes, yes, whatever you say, Uncle," Corvo replied, approaching his bed as he waved off the spymaster. "Just so you know, if we're to be sellswords then it would help to have a sword to sell. I'd not the time to find one whilst fleeing for our lives."
No doubt Gerhardt had already taken such things into account, but the young prince chose to be flippant anyway for his own sake. Anything to take his mind off that damn nightmare and feel normal, if only for a moment... Anything except for a cup of Brenwyn apparently.
Crouching down beside his bed, Corvo retrieved his nerve suit and began the cumbersome process of donning it. Simply putting it on was easy enough, being somewhat akin to a weighted jumpsuit with the top and bottom half attached to a hinged brace in the middle, but once the brace was clasped shut and the suit was activated, it took a moment for its haptic sensors to read the wearer's form so that it may tighten and seal itself without crushing the flesh within.
The artificial muscle fibres creaked as they contracted over Corvo's body, pulling tighter and tighter to the point of constricting his breathing before gradually letting go, releasing pressure to an acceptable level. It never failed to prove an uncomfortable experience, but better uncomfortable than unguarded. Without any additional armaments, the suit would have to serve as armour and weapon both. Then there was the matter of his newfound ki ability, though it was yet too raw to be relied upon. Fortunately however, Corvo had been trained in all manner of martial arts, armed and unarmed, under the tutelage of the Knight Commander himself, Chisom Balthair. The most fearsome warrior he had ever known.
Was the Black Bull still alive somehow? Were any of them? The Crimson Rider, the Silver Spider, Uilles, the Shooting Stars, were any of Belisio's worthies still out there somewhere, carrying on the fight? These thoughts raced through Corvo's mind as he flexed his limbs, testing the suit's movements. If only there was some way of knowing, perhaps through some clandestine channel or a rallying broadcast. All in due time of course, but for now... Leongarde.
Finally satisfied with the suit's performance, Corvo donned his black travelling cloak and climbed the stairs out of the cabin topside to see the Priestdom itself. So this was Avelore.
No doubt Gerhardt had already taken such things into account, but the young prince chose to be flippant anyway for his own sake. Anything to take his mind off that damn nightmare and feel normal, if only for a moment... Anything except for a cup of Brenwyn apparently.
Crouching down beside his bed, Corvo retrieved his nerve suit and began the cumbersome process of donning it. Simply putting it on was easy enough, being somewhat akin to a weighted jumpsuit with the top and bottom half attached to a hinged brace in the middle, but once the brace was clasped shut and the suit was activated, it took a moment for its haptic sensors to read the wearer's form so that it may tighten and seal itself without crushing the flesh within.
The artificial muscle fibres creaked as they contracted over Corvo's body, pulling tighter and tighter to the point of constricting his breathing before gradually letting go, releasing pressure to an acceptable level. It never failed to prove an uncomfortable experience, but better uncomfortable than unguarded. Without any additional armaments, the suit would have to serve as armour and weapon both. Then there was the matter of his newfound ki ability, though it was yet too raw to be relied upon. Fortunately however, Corvo had been trained in all manner of martial arts, armed and unarmed, under the tutelage of the Knight Commander himself, Chisom Balthair. The most fearsome warrior he had ever known.
Was the Black Bull still alive somehow? Were any of them? The Crimson Rider, the Silver Spider, Uilles, the Shooting Stars, were any of Belisio's worthies still out there somewhere, carrying on the fight? These thoughts raced through Corvo's mind as he flexed his limbs, testing the suit's movements. If only there was some way of knowing, perhaps through some clandestine channel or a rallying broadcast. All in due time of course, but for now... Leongarde.
Finally satisfied with the suit's performance, Corvo donned his black travelling cloak and climbed the stairs out of the cabin topside to see the Priestdom itself. So this was Avelore.
As he moved to open the door, Corvo glanced towards the mirror upon the wall and paused as he noticed the sheen of sweat covering his face. Luckily there were no stains showing through his white linen shirt or trousers, but his dark wavy hair was slightly damp and somewhat tousled from unrest. Exiled or not, it simply would not do to appear in such a manner and lacking any towels or rags, save for the tattered black cloak and unsealed nerve suit stowed beneath the bed, Corvo made do with the sleeve of his white linen shirt and made combs of his fingers as he ran them through his hair, parting loose strands away from his oak brown eyes.
Satisfied, he opened to door only to see someone already standing outside with arm raised to knock. Corvo gave a start until he recognized the spymaster, Gerhardt, the man who had saved his life and secured the vessel they were now travelling upon. Before he could speak a single word however, the spymaster took the initiative and wasted no time with greetings.
“Good you’re awake,” he spoke pushing the young man back inside. “We’re approaching Leongarde’s port city and before you go topside it is best if we lay down some ground rules regarding our behaviour and our new identities.”
"Ah... yes. I suppose that would be best," Corvo replied as he glanced at the mirror again, wondering if he should change his appearance somehow. Perhaps with a haircut or worn in a different style. No doubt the spymaster would suggest as much at some point, but for now simply being without crown or regalia seemed to suffice.
“The dream again?” Gerhardt asked as he entered the room, noticing the young man's paleness.
Curses, Corvo thought as he replied in a meagre attempt at joviality, "What gave it away?"
As if in answer, the spymaster walked over to a small table whereupon stood a bottle filled with a powerful herbal concoction. The kind that scorched your throat and murdered one’s liver. He poured two fingers for the both of them before handing one of the pewter cups to the young prince, whilst swirling his own.
“You’ll need this. It’ll soothe your nerves and it might inundate you to the sights and smells you could be confronted with,” he warned him as he handed him the cup. “Here some Brenwyn. Don’t expect your father’s Dulce Reina, most commoners would have to work a year to be able to afford a bottle of that stuff. Most people don’t live so lavishly as you’ll see. Neither will we…”
"Just what are you insinuating exactly?" Corvo asked as he took the cup, not sure whether he liked where this conversation was going.
“Remember, your easy days in the palace are over. You’ve been shielded, kept away from some of the true horrors of life. Atrocities that other people have to face every day. Don’t be surprised if you see harlots and whores doing ‘streetwork’ or watch ‘a scolding’ and no I don’t mean they’re exchanging just words with that.
Your father’s kingdom was a paradise in comparison with what the people experience and suffer here. Desperation and poverty does that to people. Though the wealthy and just wealthy enough pretend to not associate with the lower layers of society, they frequent those corners far more often than they like to admit.
They might claim to be the most devout, but for all their piety they are far from holy. I know this isn’t the place we both wanted to go, but for now we have no other choice.
You’ll also no longer be introduced as the crown-prince.
We might explore our options there once we’ve attained a Seal and when we have acquired some allies. Still best not to shout ‘here we are’ to the rest of the world.” Gerhardt explained to him before he raised his cup once more and downed the contents in one go.
Corvo gave no answer except to raise his own cup and take a single desultory sip. He seldom enjoyed lectures, much less those accompanied by some truly foul tasting liquor. Gaia's mercy! What was in this stuff?
“You’ll be my nephew from this point on. If anyone asks what we do we’re hirelings, sellswords. We’re our own masters and attempting the climb into the ranks of the Faithful Guard. Make up a new name for yourself for now. Something simple, nothing to fanciful.” Another heavy breath followed as his eyes narrowed seriously, staring at the young prince.
“And lastly; Don’t fall in love. It has ruined better men than you.” He ended. “Now, pack your things and if you’re ready, let’s go topside and watch them dock.”
"What do you take me for?" Corvo scoffed as he set his cup of Brenwyn down, unfinished. "After everything that's happened, nothing could be further from my mind. In any case, allow me a moment to get dressed... and call me Duncan."
Satisfied, he opened to door only to see someone already standing outside with arm raised to knock. Corvo gave a start until he recognized the spymaster, Gerhardt, the man who had saved his life and secured the vessel they were now travelling upon. Before he could speak a single word however, the spymaster took the initiative and wasted no time with greetings.
“Good you’re awake,” he spoke pushing the young man back inside. “We’re approaching Leongarde’s port city and before you go topside it is best if we lay down some ground rules regarding our behaviour and our new identities.”
"Ah... yes. I suppose that would be best," Corvo replied as he glanced at the mirror again, wondering if he should change his appearance somehow. Perhaps with a haircut or worn in a different style. No doubt the spymaster would suggest as much at some point, but for now simply being without crown or regalia seemed to suffice.
“The dream again?” Gerhardt asked as he entered the room, noticing the young man's paleness.
Curses, Corvo thought as he replied in a meagre attempt at joviality, "What gave it away?"
As if in answer, the spymaster walked over to a small table whereupon stood a bottle filled with a powerful herbal concoction. The kind that scorched your throat and murdered one’s liver. He poured two fingers for the both of them before handing one of the pewter cups to the young prince, whilst swirling his own.
“You’ll need this. It’ll soothe your nerves and it might inundate you to the sights and smells you could be confronted with,” he warned him as he handed him the cup. “Here some Brenwyn. Don’t expect your father’s Dulce Reina, most commoners would have to work a year to be able to afford a bottle of that stuff. Most people don’t live so lavishly as you’ll see. Neither will we…”
"Just what are you insinuating exactly?" Corvo asked as he took the cup, not sure whether he liked where this conversation was going.
“Remember, your easy days in the palace are over. You’ve been shielded, kept away from some of the true horrors of life. Atrocities that other people have to face every day. Don’t be surprised if you see harlots and whores doing ‘streetwork’ or watch ‘a scolding’ and no I don’t mean they’re exchanging just words with that.
Your father’s kingdom was a paradise in comparison with what the people experience and suffer here. Desperation and poverty does that to people. Though the wealthy and just wealthy enough pretend to not associate with the lower layers of society, they frequent those corners far more often than they like to admit.
They might claim to be the most devout, but for all their piety they are far from holy. I know this isn’t the place we both wanted to go, but for now we have no other choice.
You’ll also no longer be introduced as the crown-prince.
We might explore our options there once we’ve attained a Seal and when we have acquired some allies. Still best not to shout ‘here we are’ to the rest of the world.” Gerhardt explained to him before he raised his cup once more and downed the contents in one go.
Corvo gave no answer except to raise his own cup and take a single desultory sip. He seldom enjoyed lectures, much less those accompanied by some truly foul tasting liquor. Gaia's mercy! What was in this stuff?
“You’ll be my nephew from this point on. If anyone asks what we do we’re hirelings, sellswords. We’re our own masters and attempting the climb into the ranks of the Faithful Guard. Make up a new name for yourself for now. Something simple, nothing to fanciful.” Another heavy breath followed as his eyes narrowed seriously, staring at the young prince.
“And lastly; Don’t fall in love. It has ruined better men than you.” He ended. “Now, pack your things and if you’re ready, let’s go topside and watch them dock.”
"What do you take me for?" Corvo scoffed as he set his cup of Brenwyn down, unfinished. "After everything that's happened, nothing could be further from my mind. In any case, allow me a moment to get dressed... and call me Duncan."
@Neianna86 how the heck do you write so fast?
Well it took me a while, but I finally posted.
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