From the Creator of "Legends of Tyrrus" comes... Secrets of Tyrrus The main thread can be found here: https://kh-vids.net/threads/the-secrets-of-tyrrus.156603/ Setting Imagine a world where the power of the arcane and the industry of science are in an arms race to try to overcome one another. Where man’s ingenuity and determination tackles the greatest beasts of magic. This is the world of Coryphiel, where mankind faces challenges from a planet seemingly determined to destroy them. Constantly under threat of dragons, magical disasters, and each other, mankind has rapidly developed advanced technology, and mostly set aside the occult and ancient arts of magic. However, there are still those who wield this power, some of whom can be particularly dangerous. (If you're familiar my fantasy realm of "Legends of Tyrrus", this RP is set in the future of that world. 70 years in the future, to be exact) Technology Welcome to year 2087, and as the new century approaches an age of industry is dawning. In many cities the smoke of factories fills the skies, along with waves of radio chatter, as the world begins to communicate in ways it never could before. In war-torn battlefields, new methods of warfare are designed to annihilate the enemy in even more efficient ways, as advanced munitions and firearms are designed. The first motorcars begin to trundle down the city streets, airships float lazily across the sky, and locomotives hurtle along their tracks. And yet, more remarkable than this, are the feats of technology achieved by combining magic and science. Mankind’s curiosity has developed mechanical augmentations that many wealthy individuals apply to themselves; such as replacement body parts. This naturally moved on to the creation of autonomous clockwork people, complete with artificial intelligence which is often indistinguishable from a human mind. Although the majority of people use guns and convention weapons, the scientific minds of the world have developed a lot of bizarre and incredibly advanced technology. (OOC: Technology is inspired mostly by an exaggerated view of the western world in the early 1900s, with additional steampunk-ish elements and magical influence) Tyrrus You will begin in the country of Tyrrus. Until recently this land was almost completely enclosed in mountains and access to the oceans was prevented by an impenetrable barrier of storms. However, after a series of events that shaped the course of history, these mountains were lowered, valleys and passages were created, and the storms disappeared. Tyrrus was a peaceful and isolated coalition of City-States, but since being exposed to the rest of the world politics has been frantic and shattered. The land of Tyrrus is now split three ways; Southern Tyrrus, which consists of the capitalist metropolis of Eredan and the scientific city of Varewyn, as well as other territories out at sea. The Kingdom of Whytehold, otherwise known as “East Tyrrus”, ruled by the militaristic and religious fortress-city of Whytehold, also contains the cultural city of Thassalus to the north and the island of Svoldia to the south. The Dominion of New Haven, the city of New Haven rules this area with an iron fist, often in the literal sense due to their powerful magicks. New Haven is the hub of magical power in Tyrrus and contains many magical academies which train new mages. (OOC: Culture and technology is a mixture of Victorian England and 1920s America) Magic Magic, a strange universal power that suffuses the world. This power is found commonly in nature, and there are a few individuals who can use this power to their advantage. Magic is a common part of Tyrrus, and those who use it are treated in a variety of ways, from respect to suspicion. The Majority of mages in Tyrrus study magical sciences, working with runes, scrolls and ancient books to learn more about the secrets of magic. These scholars usually study at their academies and rarely care about mundane politics or science. Other mages get their power from other sources. Sorcerers are mages who are born with innate magical power. This raw power is more difficult to control, and known sorcerers often receive prejudice due to their uncontrollable nature. Others gain their power from religion, following the gods or the Dragon Sovereigns can grant supernatural powers. The most mysterious mages are shamanic occultists who get their power from nature itself. These mages often know obscure rituals, and are distrusted by civilised folk. The majority of mages have a limited power set, and focus on using their powers creatively as opposed to using a vast array of magic. There are multiple ways to use magic. The most prevalent and obvious is by calling upon it and manipulating its power by creating bolts of energy. However, certain disciplines of magic prefer to perform rituals over a length of time, creating powerful effects. Others infuse objects and weapons with magical power, creating enchanted items which have their own arcane abilities. What if your character draws runes of power, and utilises scrolls to call upon their magic? Or maybe your character is bound to an ancient artifact which gives them power, at a cost. Be creative! There’s so many different ways to use magic than by saying a magic word. You may choose one of the following disciplines of magic: Elemental, Arcane, Divine or Forbidden Elemental Elemental magic calls upon the powers of nature. The majority of elemental mages will stick to a single element, but very few of the more powerful ones can control multiple elements. Remember, the cornerstone of magic in LoT is variety, so don’t necessarily go with the standardised use of elements. However, your character should have a general theme to their magic. Fire Fire is the most destructive of the elemental magics; users are able to summon and control heat and flames. There’s more to this magic than simple fireballs, maybe your character can instead summon a sword of magma, or encase themselves in a burning cloak. Earth Earth magic is the manipulation of the world around us. Earth mages may be able to move stones that would be much too heavy to carry. Alternatively, they might be able to burrow through earth, or maybe they specialise in manipulating metal, or even plant life. Water Water magic is often seen as the least dangerous of the elemental magics, but this is not necessarily true. They may be able to provide a poor village with clean water, but don’t forget that they may have the capability to drown their enemies. A water mage may specialise in controlling ice and frost instead, or perhaps they summon elementals made of water. Air Air mages control the power of the storm. As well as summoning winds and gales, air mages may be able to fire off bolts of lightning, or enshroud themselves in cloud. A few air mages may be able to fly by pushing themselves with wind. Other Any other ideas? I welcome creativity, if you have an idea for elemental magic that isn’t here, don’t be afraid to go with it (As long as it’s not too powerful or doesn’t fit with the setting) Arcane Arcane mages control the primal energies of the world, and have a large variety of abilities at their disposal. As an arcane mage, you can choose only a few of these capabilities, or you can choose to focus on one. Arcane Energy Many arcane mages can create bolts or blasts of arcane energy to harm their enemies. Alternatively this branch of magic can be used to create arcane magical weapons, among other things. Fluxomancy Otherwise known as teleportation. This magic is highly useful, and feared Metamagic An arcane mage who uses this magic is able to prevent or warp the magic of other mages Chronomancy An incredibly rare and powerful magical discipline, arcane mages with this power can affect time to a small extent. Other Like I said before, if you have an idea for a magic that isn’t here, don’t be afraid to go with it (As long as it’s not too powerful or doesn’t fit with the setting). Divine Divine mages (Commonly known as priests or champions) appease their gods and perform rituals and rites to incite magical power. The power of a Divine mage depends on who they worship. Divine magic is often more about empowering the individual, as opposed to evoking magical effects. Divine magic has a large range of effects, but is often more related to the typical powers of magic in folklore. For example, many divine mages can see visions, contact otherworldly forces, summon weapons and armour granted by their gods, or strengthen their allies. Light Gods The gods of light often represent human ambitions and ideals. Those who follow them can often heal wounds or protect others through various means. Their powers are often related to light itself, and to the gods they follow. Dark Gods The gods of darkness often represent human flaws and fears. Those who follow them may be masters of illusion, or able to manipulate or create fear, anger and insanity in others. Shadowlight Gods The gods of Shadowlight represent both light and dark, they hold a middle ground between the two, and take massive influence from both. Shadowlight priests are rare, and those that do exist can have powers from either side. Dragon Sovereigns The Dragon Sovereigns rule all of dragonkind, and are sources of powerful magic. Those devoted to the Dragons can call upon their powers, by empowering themselves or summoning arcane ethereal dragons. Many dragon priests can give themselves magical wings and scales temporarily, or even transform themselves into a small dragon. Fey The fey are spirits of nature, and their purpose is to nurture and protect life. Fey worshippers often spend more time among nature than civilisation, and their powers usually relate to plants and animals. Those who worship the Fey can use their powers to heal others, control plants and animals, turn into plants and animals, or gain spiritual companions and guardians. Forbidden Forbidden magic is shunned in all civilised parts of the world. This magic includes Blood magic and Psychic powers, both of which are considered unethical and dangerous. (No more forbidden magic users available) Religion There are many gods in this universe, all of whom can offer power to their followers. The true “gods” are psychic beings that inhabit the Divine Realm, and feed off human belief. They lack their own power, and act through their chosen champions. They are not inherently good or evil. These gods often choose champions, whom were once humans but were given great power, and now are often treated as gods themselves, and are often spoken of in legend. The Dragon Sovereigns rule all of dragonkind. Though they inhabit the mortal realm, they are rarely seen. The Fey are ancient beings, created long ago to nurture and protect life. These are sometimes referred to as spirits of the forest. Light Gods Aysa, The Mother, Goddess of compassion and mercy Aldin, The Father, God of justice and judgment Annor, The Guardian, God of honour and protection Athin, The Sun King, God of law and order Ardella, The Dancing Lady, Goddess of talent, creativity, art and music. Alshin, Lord of the Infinite Caravan, God of commerce, wealth and greed Livia, The Dragon Queen of Light, Goddess of determination and stubbornness Dark Gods The Faceless God, God of lies, illusion and treachery Zekin, The Butcher, God of cruelty, violence and war Xaxark, The Unseen, God of fear, paranoia and madness Dakana, The Fallen, God of mistakes, misfortune and forgiveness Tyrillon, The Drunken Lord, God of revelry, festivity and debauchery The Jailor of the Damned, Warden of the Spirit Realm Velkyn, The Dragon Lord of Darkness, God of independence and passion Shadowlight Gods The Lady of the Mist, Goddess of shrouds, hidden things and guidance The Walking God, God of wanderers, travel, exploration and discovery Alyssa and Darcan, The Lovers, Champions of love, lust, desire and beauty Solas Sorrowsong, Champion of rulership, responsibility and burdens The King of the Dead, Champion of guidance and judgment in the afterlife Lunolyn, Dragon Lord of Shadowlight, God of change Dragon Sovereigns Zythia, Dragon Queen of the Arcane Kaldunira, Dragon Queen of Earth Salvakoryn, Dragon Lord of Fire Assuria, Dragon Queen of Water Akrazur, Dragon Lord of Air Livia, Dragon Queen of Light Velkyn, Dragon Lord of Darkness Lunolyn, Dragon Lord of Shadowlight Races Humans Humanity is the major race of this world. They populate the planet in their kingdoms and empires. Humans range massively in their capabilities and personalities, but you can usually tell where they come from based on their appearance: There are three different nationalities within Tyrrus: Tyrranean Southerner Those who come from Southern Tyrrus are quite varied in appearance. Some have pale skin, others have a slight tan. They generally have blond, brown or black hair. Tyrranean Easterner Those who come from Eastern Tyrrus have a relatively uniform look. They have pale skin, and red hair is quite common, as well as brown or blonde hair. Those who come from the capital city of Whytehold are usually taller and bulkier than average. New Havenite Those who come from the Dominion of New Haven are incredibly distinctive. The magic of the landscape has affected the generations of people who have lived there, giving them bizarre hair and eye colours. Blue, purple and bright red hair is not uncommon in New Haven. They generally have pale skin. You may come from outside of Tyrrus, but Tyrraneans are generally distrusting of foreigners. If you want to learn about cultures and nations outside of Tyrrus, contact me. Technological enhancements In current society, it is often fashionable, or practical, to have an augmentation or two. These are generally expensive however, so those who come from poorer backgrounds would usually not have one of these (by choice at least). There’s not much limits as to what kinds of augmentation you can have. A robot arm? Bionic eyes? It’s up to you. Clockwork Golems Clockwork Golems of the First Class possess an intellect and personality almost indistinguishable from a human’s. These automatons may have been created for a variety of reasons, some are used for menial paperwork due to their computer-like calculating skills, others are created by scientists just to see if it could be done. The brain of a clockwork golem is created through magical means, but their bodies are entirely mechanical. They are self-sustaining, but do occasionally need rest. Golems cannot, and do not need to, eat, drink, breathe or sleep, but they also cannot heal unless repaired by a skilled mechanic. (There will be a limit to the number of Clockwork Golems in the RP) The Game Although this version of the RP will not be as heavily mechanical as its last incarnation, there will still be an element of “RPG” to it. Occasionally I will roll dice to determine the outcome of certain situations. You can influence these rolls by being good in certain things, these are called your attributes, and when you make your character you will assign numbers to these between 4 and 18. Vitality - wielding heavy weapons, lifting things, Resisting physical effects, general athletics. Agility - wielding finesse-based weapons, climbing, running, moving Dexterity - having steady hands/shooting/constructing/crafting/being precise Intelligence - knowing things, researching things, finding how things work, casting magic Will - staying strong, resisting psychic stuff, casting magic Wits - quick thinking, initiative, reflexes, looking for things. Charisma - Influence, disposition, how good you are at talking Plot & Character Creation The Beginning You will begin in the great metropolitan city of Eredan, capital of Southern Tyrrus. Eredan is the hub of one of the largest and most technologically advanced countries in the world. The city is ruled by a king technically, but it’s The Ministry who make the majority of decisions. The city has a large crime element, and the Constabulary aren’t particularly effective for the most part. Thus, private investigative agencies have arisen to deal with the problems that the police won’t listen to. Factions You, for whatever reason, are involved in this. You may be a part of one of these investigation agencies, curious for the truth. You may be a member of the police, trying to prove yourself despite the bad reputation. Or you may be a member of the secretive underground organisation known as the Cabal, intent on keeping things secret. You could be a new recruit to these agencies, or a long-time member. Haytham’s Investigations A new agency has recently appeared, and is recruiting detectives. Run by the mysterious “Dylan Haytham”, the agency claims to be working to discover the truth. When mysterious things begin to happen in this city, they’ll be the first to act. The Constabulary The police forces of Eredan have fallen into disrepute and corruption, but maybe you can change that? Or will you fall to the same level as your fellows? The Cabal Not much is known about this secretive agency. Message me in private if you’re interested. There is a limit to how many people can join the Cabal Unaffiliated You might not be allied to a faction, but still intrigued by the strange events that will occur in this city, and possessing a curious mind. Character Bio (Remove anything in brackets when you post your character bio) Name: Age: Race: Nationality: Faction: Job: Appearance: Weapons (if applicable): Magic (If applicable): Religion (If applicable): Augments (If applicable): Skills (e.g medicine, engineering, science, etc.) and Strengths: Personality: Flaws/Weaknesses: History: (Describe why your character is where they are now. If your character has magic or augments explain how they got it): Attributes (each number must be between 4 and 18, the numbers should add up to a total of 90 or less) Vitality: Agility: Dexterity: Intelligence: Will: Wits: Charisma: Map of Eredan
Lysander was relieved when they were finally allowed into the home, and took of his cloak as he left the chilling winds. Glancing over at the woman, he was surprised to see her ignite the fireplace without the need for fire-starting implements. He blinked in surprise, and fear, but things were made clearer as Derrick revealed the nature of the woman. Lysander had heard of sorcerers before, but to see one in the flesh? It was quite remarkable, and frankly terrifying. What else could Miss Secret do? Burn down a house? A city? Lysander shuddered with the thought, as his imagination filled with the searing flames that had consumed his home. Nevertheless, Lysander shook his head and focused on the conversation again, as Derrick mentioned him. "Indeed I can, my friend" Lysander said, sitting at a chair with his lute in his hands. He began to softly strum at the instrument, producing a simple cheerful melody. He was still a little put off by the woman's fiery abilities, but tried to pull a smile "So, there I was, having just left my lifelong home to embark on a grand adventure. But then, as if the gods themselves reviled me, a terrifying monstrosity ambushed me a short time after I had left..." Lysander told the story of how he ran (bravely) from the creature, before fortunately running across Derrick, who disposed of the beast in an exaggerated epic battle "...Derrick slashed at the beast a final time, and removed its head in one clean swipe, before kicking its body off the cliff!" he said as he finished the battle saga "After this display, which I watched with rapt attention, the witcher turned to me, and vowed to protect me on my journey. Regrettably for Derrick, I was headed to Vizima, so we had quite the walk ahead of us" "It is time" Thorvald spoke. Through the misty water, a long dark shape weaved, headed straight towards the bay of Novigrad. The water rippled at its approach, and it moved with impressive speed given its size. As the shape moved closer to the surface, an observer would be able to tell that it was about the length of two long-ships. In the docks of Novigrad it went mostly unnoticed, although a few residents began to notice something moving through the dark water. It was now closer to the docks, and every so often its thick scaled skin would breach the surface briefly, offering glimpses of the massive blue beast. Suddenly, its head rose up, water cascading from its form, and revealing a large reptilian head, with gleaming blue eyes of malevolence, and an enormous maw full of sharp teeth. A group of Novigrad residents stood in stunned terror, and the great serpent simply glared.
Lysander stood back as Derrick reacquainted himself with the young witcher, whose name was apparently Aaron. Good to know. He cringed on the inside when he realised that Aaron hadn't actually discovered the beautiful woman's name. Lysander put on his best smile, pulled out his lute, and was prepared to offer a beautifully elegant sample of poetry to woo the woman, when she suddenly turned to him and accused him of bloodsucking and similar bizarre crimes. Lysander faltered for a moment, until he realised she was inviting them in. It was a rare, but not unheard of, circumstance when he didn't even have to say a word to get inside a woman's home. While Derrick was blathering about honour, Lysander slipped past and approached the two strangers, mostly focusing on the woman "Permit me to introduce myself. My name is Lysander Verric Sebastien Antionarre, a bard and minstrel of great renown. I promise you that I have no predilections towards Vampirism or Lycanthropy, and the only magic I am able to perform..." Lysander strummed on his lute for effect "...Is bewitching the hearts of men and women with my sweet melodies" Lysander was smiling in a friendly manner "I am grateful for your invitation to your home, getting out of the cold would certainly be preferable. Do you have a name we can call you by, or are you going to carry on being Miss Secretive?
"To quote Rennez; 'I have never encountered an elf whose beauty did not rival the morning sun'" Lysander stated merrily, as he started to lead Derrick towards the tavern. "Then again it's unwise to trust everything Rennez says, as he once wrote that ingesting a lock of a dwarf's beard hair grants increased virility" Together they wandered the streets of Novigrad, as Lysander quipped to Derrick about various pieces of relevant literature. Suddenly, as they turned a corner, Lysander spotted a pair of cat-like eyes. These eyes did not belong to a cat "Hey Derrick, I spy with my little eye something that begins with W" He said, motioning towards the young man who bore the marks of a witcher. The boy was quite attractive, Lysander had to admit. "Friend of yours?" He asked Derrick in reference to the younger witcher. Talking to the boy was a young woman, also quite attractive. Lysander straightened his cravat and stood up straight. From the looks of it, this was turning into his lucky day.
"I've encountered that problem as well my friend, I attempted to hire a carriage out of this place, but in this weather the cost is higher than I can possibly afford!" Lysander stated with exasperation, he was exaggerating slightly, the expense wasn't too high, but Lysander was so poor that he still couldn't afford it. "When it comes to lodgings, well, I just dramatically exited the establishment I planned to spend the night at, they wouldn't accept music as payment" The bard explained with a sigh. It was sad times when a bard couldn't stay for free at a city inn "Nevertheless I know of some other inns, but I've no doubt this sorry state of affairs is affecting them too" Lysander said, hand on his chin as he considered the options "There's one run by some beautiful women, one of whom is an actual elf!" He said with a wink to Derrick "It's not too expensive either! And if the fair maidens won't let me play for my lodgings, I assume you have money for two rooms?" Lysander said casually, subtly suggesting that he was almost completely broke. Once again, Lysander was happy that Derrick had come to his aid, for perhaps the third time. He had no shame leaning on the witcher for financial support, although he'd never admit it. The truth was whatever he said it was. The mist slowly curled across the bay, weaving its way around the Skelligan ships which sat, anchored far enough away to be barely visible from the shore. Yet the effects of their blockade could be clearly felt. The remains of trade ships lay washed up on the rocks, their produce ransacked by the pirates, their people drowned, executed or enslaved. Thorvald didn't care about the ships, or the people of the city, he had a job to do, and this blockade was convenient. It would make the nobles afraid, and desperate enough to hire a specialist, such as a witcher, for any threats they couldn't deal with. Out of the corner of his eye, Thorvald saw a dark shape move below the water. The deep moan sounded again, this time louder, and blared across the water. "Behave" The mage barked, and clutched the stone with the rune on it. The dark shape retreated deeper into the water soundlessly. Thorvald sighed. It was getting restless. It was almost time for the plan to begin, but Thorvald liked to savour the moment before something like this began. It felt like the air was electric with anticipation. After a few more moments, the large man looked out over side of the ship, and began to concentrate on the stone.
Lysander turned with a start as a familiar voice called his name “Derrick!” He smiled broadly as the witcher approached "Thrown out of a tavern? Of course not! Fools get thrown out of taverns, wise men throw themselves out" Lysander leaned in closer to the witcher with a roguish smirk "And they get away with not paying" Lysander chuckled. The young bard was incredibly happy to see Derrick again, and not just because the witcher was a good friend who'd saved his life on more than one occasion. Derrick usually had money, and Lysander had none. Lysander had never told the witcher the circumstances of why he'd left Toussaint, despite their travels together “On the one hand, it is delightful to see a friendly face around here. On the other, what are you doing in such a wretched city, my friend?” He exclaimed, looking around at the softly falling snow, and the drab, depressed faces “If the Northern Kingdoms were a theatre, Novigrad would be doing an absolutely stellar performance of Gwendoline, from The Mists of Ard Skellig” he turned back to Derrick with a smirk “That is to say, it’s getting f*cked by pirates”
"Thank you! Thank you!" The bard exclaimed, and bowed with a flourish. He waited another second for applause, but received none. With a disappointed sigh, he walked over to the bar and took a seat. The tavern had but a few patrons, all of whom looked working-class types who brooded over their drinks. The bard understood that the winter had screwed them over, but it was still rude to deny gratitude to a musician. "Another if you would, Miss Bartender!" He called out to the middle aged woman who ran the tarvern. She scowled at him. "Are you going to pay for these, Mister Antoinarre?" she asked balefully, Lysander gave her a look of mock indignation. "I'm a travelling minstrel! And as per the universal relationship between taverns and bards, I need not pay for rest or refreshment!" He said incredulously "That's only if you bring in paying customers" She retorted, as she passed him a pint of ale "Well it's not my fault if this city can't appreciate good music" He grumbled, taking a swig. He didn't much like ale, but he did very much enjoy alcohol. "This winter's been hard for us, I can't let you have everything for free anymore" She said, pointing an angry finger at him. Lysander sighed, and leaned back against the bar, staring up at the ceiling. "No, you know who is most troubled by this confounded season? Musicians! The worrisome people of this city no longer want to listen to my sweet melodies, much less pay for the privilege! However will I earn my coin to survive? I am undoubtedly the most skilled person in this room, and yet ironically, the poorest" Lysander lamented to the barkeeper with false sorrow. "Don't you have some home to get to?" she said, rolling her eyes at the bard's monologue "Alas! But if only! The path I choose to travel means I have forsaken my home. And yet, at the same time, the world is my home! To quote Solisiphus the Scholar: 'I make my rest where'er the wand'ring winds hath taken me by sunset', and it is by that ideology that I have come to this forlorn city" "Well tell the 'Wandering Winds' To bring a better musician next time" the bartender growled, not swayed at all by the bard's literary quotes. Lysander stood up indignantly "Well! I see I am no longer welcome here! Gone are the days when I would fill this tavern with laughter and song, it seems my path leads me to new places. Good day to you Miss bartender" He said, as he swiveled on his heel and strode outside into the cold streets. As he the brisk winds hit him Lysander shivered, and clutched his cloak closer to his chest. Nevertheless, he was feeling cheerful, because he'd managed to distract the woman from making him pay. two months ago The air had a chill to it, and the crew of pirates knew that winter would come with a greater sting. Their longship was docked at an old jetty, and the crew were loading the ship with crates. The clouds in the sky roiled, but no rain fell. Every so often the pirates would look up, it was the sort of weather which could go either way, but if it did become a storm, it would be a destructive one. "Captain! There's someone over there" a crewman yelled, pointing to a nearby hill where a large man stood. The silhouetted figure began to walk towards them. "Who is he?" The captain asked, peering over. As the man came closer the pirates noted the hefty battleaxe at his back, and his muscled figure. "Greetings" The man spoke in a deep, grumbling voice. The words were quiet, yet carried far. "My name is Thorvald, and I shall be taking control of this ship for an indeterminate length of time" he said. The captain looked at him for a moment, then chuckled "And what makes you think you can do that?" the Skelligan pirate said, as he strode towards the figure attempting to look intimidating. The captain was a large man, but this newcomer still towered over him. "Who sent you? What's stopping me from killing you here and now?" The stranger was unperturbed by the pirate's threats, and simply looked up to the sky for a moment, a ponderous expression on his angular face. "Hey, are you listening? I don't like being ignored" "Neither do I" The stranger spoke. His voice soft, yet threatening. As he looked back down at the captain his eyes began to glow white, and his fingers crackled with energy. "I am going to repeat myself once; my name is Thorvald, and I shall be taking control of this ship for an indeterminate length of time" The captain stepped back shocked, and weighed his options, Unfortunately, he was not a very smart pirate. The pirates watching saw their captain unsheath his sword, before a bright light accompanied by a deafening crack filled their vision. As if the gods themselves had a particular vendetta, the clouds had suddenly lit up and struck the captain with a jagged streak of pure energy. The man staggered back, tendrils of smoke curling off his body, his hair charred and crisp, his clothing singed, his chainmail glowing with heat. The man's hand had been severely burned due to the super heated metal of the sword he had been clutching, which now lay on the ground. Thorvald, with a gloved hand, picked up the red-hot blade. The captain was about to stumble backwards, but Thorvald caught him by the arm. With a swift strike he chopped the man's hand off, the wound instantly cauterised, and then let go. "I don't like it when people threaten me. But I'm a merciful man, so I'll let you remain on the crew" he said to pirate who now lay groaning on the floor. The mage strode to the ship, and climbed aboard unceremoniously. As the crew busied themselves getting the ship ready, he looked to the sea, towards the Northern Kingdoms. He had work to do. Now The ship creaked. The air was cold, and the only heat in the small cabin came from the few candles Thorvald had lit to give him reading light. On his desk lay several open books; a bestiary on monsters of the sea, and some books on ancient artifacts. But Thorvald wasn't paying attention to them right now, instead he was focusing on the stone in his hands. Roughly the size of a pebble, it was mostly black, but had veins of a crystalline blue material running through it, like a piece of ore. The most interesting part was the ancient rune carved into one side. A knock sounded on the door "Enter" Thorvald barked. A crewman opened the door and peered within, letting in cold winds which extinguished one of the candles. Thorvald didn't mind. "My lord, we've arrived at Novigrad" he stated. Thorvald nodded and waved for the man to leave him, which he did immediately. The Skellige blockade of the city was extremely convenient, as their ship would go unnoticed among the many other pirates. Thorvald stood, still holding the strange stone, and placed the books back on his shelf. From somewhere below him came a deep moaning noise. Thorvald let a smile come to his lips. After months of preparation his plan was finally coming to fruition, and his favourite part was just beginning. There was only one floor on the longship, the only thing below Thorvald was wood, and miles of deep, black, cold ocean.
Picture: You were named?: Lysander Verric Sebastien Antoinarre You have been alive for?: 22 years (are you happy now?) You were born as a: Human You chose to be: A Bard You were gifted with: The most handsome face in all of the Northern Kingdoms You fear: Responsibility, Fire You love: Literature, Parties, Wine You may have heard of them: Derrick is a friend, Lysander has heard about everyone who’s had any influence in the world, such as Thorvald and Teliana. Who will you fight for?: Neutral What is your history?: Lysander was born to the powerful Antoinarre family in Toussaint.. He was taught extensively in musical arts, literature, and painting, but he never used his talents for anything useful. Lysander instead spent most of his life lounging around, drinking wines, reading books, and having his choice of women (and men). Life was luxurious, and boring. Until one day, when Lysander was 19 years old, his family’s manor was burned down by their enemies, who took over the Antoinarre estates. With nowhere left to go and people who wanted him dead occupying his homeland, Lysander ran as far away as he could. A few days after this, Lysander was thirsty, cold and starving, trudging through the forest aimlessly. Unfortunately for him these issues were exacerbated by the sudden appearance of a basilisk. Before the beast could kill him, the witcher Derrick appeared, having been tracking down the beast for a while. Derrick took sympathy with the young noble and kept the young man with him for a while, taking him to the Northern Kingdoms and teaching him more about the wider world, and stumbling across several dangerous scenarios along the way. Lysander soon found a place where his talents with an instrument were enough to earn him coin, and he found that he no longer needed Derrick holding his hand. However, he longed for those days of wandering the world, and soon found himself on the road again, looking for stories wherever he went. What are your weapons of choice?: His wit, and when that doesn’t work; his rapier. Who is your puppeteer?: It’s me again, Sam.
Picture: You were named?: Thorvald Mordheim "The Stormlord" You have been alive for?: 523 years (are you happy now?) You were born as a: Mage You chose to be: Mercenary You were gifted with: Power over the storms and weather. Specifically, he can cause thunderstorms, and control lightning, mist, wind, and cold. You fear: Being trapped, A challenge he cannot overcome. You love: Completing a difficult job, reading books, fighting You may have heard of them: Who? Who will you fight for?: Neutral What is your history?: Thorvald never had formal teaching of how to control his powers, and as such they often respond to his emotions. Clouds seem to follow him, it is always overcast, and often raining, when Thorvald is around. When Thorvald is angry, this turns into a raging thunderstorm. While calm, he can control the extent of this, but when his emotions get the better of him anything could happen. Thorvald was exiled from his village in the Skellige Isles when he killed his father with a lightning strike in anger. He spent a century or so in the wilderness, training himself in magic and fighting, before getting bored and moving on. Since then Thorvald has done many things with his life. He has spent time as a pirate, a soldier, a member of a druid’s circle, a member of a sorcerer’s organisation, and even a Jarl of a Skellige clan. He grows bored of these quickly however, since they eventually lose the challenge they once held. Therefore he began to work as a mercenary and advertised his capabilities to take on any challenge that dared to approach him What are your weapons of choice?: Battleaxe, Seaxes (Viking knife things), Shield, Who is your puppeteer?: Sam (Relatively Sane)
Solomon, The DeathbringerThe mage boy used some strange weapons, odd things which shot forth projectiles. No matter. The first gun was ineffective, the bullets passed harmlessly through the shadowy tendrils and they snaked ever closer to their target. However, the second gun struck next. The lightning arced towards him, searing the air with its sheer energy. Solomon simply watched the thunderbolt, unable to respond in time, and was sent stumbling backwards as the magic struck him. The shadowy tendrils were dispelled as his concentration lapsed. Solomon quickly got back to his feet and laughed maniacally. The pain, the pain in his chest burned so much. The lightning had sent tingles all through his body, it hurt to move as the electricity cramped his muscles. But it was better than feeling nothing. "Interesting weapons of choice, but you won't be able to do that again" Solomon commented. Tapping his staff on the floor he summoned a wall of undead minions which crawled up from below the ground. They had no weapons and they were barely holding together, but there were a lot of them and they stood side by side in front of their master, protecting him from any more bullets which may approach. That done, he raised his staff once more and continued the onslaught of shadows, cloudy tendrils of darkness encroaching ever closer to their prey. Undead AaronAaron didn't notice the black blood seeping from his wounds, he didn't notice the muscles in his arms and legs aching with effort. He was empowered by necromantic magic and sheer force of emotion. Biologically speaking, zombies shouldn't be able to move. They certainly shouldn't be able to fight like Aaron was right now. Once a body had died its muscles and cells deteriorated almost instantly. Even with a soul restored, it shouldn't be able to do anything. Necromancy was not just putting a soul back into a body. Necromancy was giving that body the sheer willpower to overcome physical restrictions. Therefore necromancers must be passionate about something, have an endless supply of one emotion, an emotion which they can pass on to all the bodies they ressurrect, an emotion with enough power to cause someone to do the impossible, to come back to life. Solomon had an emotion like that, an emotion which he had poured into Aaron's body excessively, that he'd drilled into the lost soul's mind. Hatred. Solomon hated everything. And all that hatred, all that built up rage and defiance against everything alive, was fuelling his undead army. In the back of Aaron's soul he remembered Solomon speaking to him, indoctrinating him, making him hate everything, especially Solomon himself. The absolute hatred that Aaron felt for Solomon encompassed his entire body and soul, and the fact that he couldn't fight back against the necromancer's control only inflamed his anger. All that resentment and spite, enhanced by dark magic, was making Aaron stronger than he'd ever been in life. Aaron didn't need to be graceful in this fight, his body could hold out against almost anything Veera could do, all he had to do was be relentless. Veera brought down her guard as she lashed towards Aaron's leg, and he took the opportunity to strike back at her, not bothering to defend himself. His blade slashed into her side as her blade cut into his leg. The wound he inflicted was not deep and would not kill the witcher, but would impair her, the wound he sustained would have been far graver had he still been alive. The zombie was almost brought his knees by the attack, but his leg held up strong, though he wouldn't be moving anywhere fast. Aaron went in for another heck at the other witcher. "Solomon..." the zombie croaked, his anger bringing words out unintentionally "... I HATE Solomon!" The AbominationThe abomination was also feeling rage and hatred, especially against the people who were currently trying to burn it alive. As the witcher cast signs of fire at it, and the mage spewed an inferno from her hands, its legs started to grow weak. It roared from its massive grotesque mouth, barely staying upright, as it swung towards the attackers. When the mage struck it with a sword of fire though, it fell to its knees. Willow DuskstriderEw. Ew ew ew. Eeewwwwww. Willow had been many places in her life, but never before had she been inside an undead abomination made from an entire graveyard's worth of corpses. she crawled and slashed her way through, black blood dripping onto her clothes and skin. It was truly quite horrible. Suddenly she found what she was after. Squinting through the dimness, she could see a coagulated mash of organ tissue, some kind of brain. Squirming her way through the creature she reached it and plunged one of her daggers straight into the organ. The reaction was immediate. A short roar bellowed from the creature and it began to shake as it fell down. Willow was almost crushed inside the creature, but at the last moment ripped a tear in its clammy flesh and leaped out, as the creature was felled. She looked back for a moment. The creature had began to sag and made no more noise, it just slowly leaked a black syrupy blood. The Assassin, still disguised as a witcher turned back to the group. A sinister smile slowly crept across her face, before she turned and walked towards the main castle. Prince Vyle Blackwind, The Night HunterVyle watched as the abomination fell and the strange woman leaped out of it in a splash of black blood. He carefully wiped away a bit of the gore from his coat, then looked around to make sure there weren't any other dangers. Finally, he turned to Ana with a concerned, and slightly exhausted, expression. "Are you alright to carry on? The battle is hardly over"
Solomon, the DeathbringerSolomon watched Veera's face with anticipation and more than a little bit of glee as she regarded the face of her former friend. The two witchers stood ready to fight. Veera was far more skilled, but Aaron was stronger, empowered by necromantic magic. This Aaron didn't tire, or fear, or show any signs of weakness, pain did not affect him, all he had to do was drag out the fight and he'd surely win. "Oh my gosh, you hate yourself too? I thought I was the only one!" Solomon gasped melodramatically. Suddenly, Veera struck. "Oh, I suppose we're starting the fight already? I didn't even get to do an introduction" The first blow was easily parried by Aaron's steel sword, however when the female witcher summoned a blast of fire the zombie stumbled out of the way, only just avoiding it. This left him at a disadvantage as Veera went to slice across his chest. Aaron didn't even bother to avoid the attack, and the steel cut straight through the black robes and the pale skin beneath. The wound seemed, however, as if it hardly affected the undead witcher at all, as he immediately went in for a strike of his own, stabbing straight towards Veera's own chest. Aaron began an unrelenting assault, with stab after stab aimed straight at Veera's heart, giving her very little opportunity to fight back. The gash across his chest slowly oozed a black, syrupy blood. While the clash of blades went on, Solomon turned to the mage. "Witcher versus witcher, mage versus mage? Seems only fair" he said, as began to circle his staff in the air. Dark energy accumulated and swirled around the skull atop Solomon's staff, before tendrils of darkness eventually began to snake their way towards the young mage. The AbominationMeanwhile, the abomination outside was having a lot of fun. It stumbled around in what it thought were graceful movements as it played with the weird small creatures. One of them was on its back, another few were by his feet. The abomination wanted to dance. It waved its arms around, grabbing for the figure on its back. the figure scrambled around, being very uncooperative. The abomination would show it how to have fun. It brought the creature in front of it, and a gash opened up in its grotesque chest, revealing a horrific maw made from a thousand different teeth and claws. It seemed to smile and chuckle deeply, an action that contrasted the groans of the various faces from all the bodies stitched together to form this horrific homonculus. Suddenly it hurt. It hurt a lot. It howled in pain as fire burned at its clammy skin. Thrashing, the beast managed to extinguish the flame, but part of its amalgam leg has been charred and it was clearly injured. In the chaos, its plaything had slipped out of its grasp. It no longer wanted to dance. It wanted to crush. Prince Vyle Blackwing, the Night HunterVyle saw a looming hand approach as he struggled to keep his grip on the top of the monster, He tried to scrabble away but found himself crushed in the grip of the beast's fleshy hand, made from an assortment of corpses. Cursing, he struggled against the beast. He should have transformed, or gone invisible, or done anything. Now he was in a position where he was sure only his superhuman strength was keeping him from being crushed into vampire juice. As the beast opened its horrible maw Vyle was certain he was going to get eaten, how ironic. A man who'd spent his life feeding on humans, dying in the stomach of a creature made from hundreds of them. This wasn't how he wanted to go. If he was going to die today it had to be some kind of noble sacrifice, or at least at the hands of Solomon himself. Not this oversized minion. Suddenly the creature howled in pain and its grip weakened, allowing Vyle to slip out of its bloated hands and land gracefully on the ground. Fire seemed to hurt the creature, but they couldn't rely on only Ana, as strong as she was he had a feeling that the creature would carry on until it was nothing but ash, if it had to. Willow Duskstrider, The WidowmakerWillow watched the beast carefully. She'd retreated slightly by now and observed the newcomer's sword strikes also being ineffective. The fire injured it, but not enough. They had to deal with the creature quickly, lest it create too many casualties. They needed as many people on their side as possible, Solomon still had an undead army. From her observations the creature seemed to possess some kind of sentience, it was more than a mere shambling minion. On the one hand this made it more difficult to deal with; it could learn, it could act with some level of intelligence. On the other hand, every sentient creature had one weakness, some kind of control centre, a brain. Welp. Here goes nothing. Willow ran towards the creature and, as it howled in pain, scrambled up its body and leaped into its mouth. Zavarius Boldhorn, The Monster SlayerZavarius was wary. From the way he spoke and acted, this creature could be an ordinary citizen of the Northern Kingdoms, but the hunter was sure he was not. "Yes, you will have to evacuate this city, but if you do accept the offer we have other places you could stay in peace" despite himself, Zavarius felt himself slipping into how he would talk in any political scenario, he had to remind himself that this person was aberrant, they were not the same. "The Hierarch's Palace in Novigrad, If I'm not there you can talk to any of the king's other advisors. I will, however, need your name..." Zavarius hesitated for a moment and peered over the strange man "You do have a name, right?"
Nicholas NightwineNick was confused. In between sass from Morrigan, and Titania landing, and Gaia meddling, this plan had gone to shit. Nick felt himself being flung around and then landed softly in the grass. Blinking, he noticed he'd been thrown away from the action. For a moment he hesitation, Morrigan was in there somewhere, and so were the others. On the other hand, it really wasn't his business, and he didn't want to mess in the middle of a timeless old fairy queen feud. The black truck of Paragon's agency had arrived a short distance away from what was going on, Nick didn't hesitate to run straight towards it. Black Pawn and White Pawn, the ifrits, were there, Nick motioned frantically for them to get back in the truck and drive away, as he hopped in the back. ParagonParagon had the same idea as Nick; get the hell away from here. His bright colourful wings unfolded from his back and he fled the battle, zooming away. Fortunately, nobody seemed to be paying him any attention. Paragon swooped into the passenger seat of the truck "We need to lay low for a while, let's get back to HQ" Paragon looked out of the window as they. The battle seemed to be slowing down, Gaia clearly had the advantage. Well that was one problem out of the way. "But first we need to wait for someone" White Queen and Black Rook"Ugh, we came all this way for nothing?" Elizabeth sighed and looked towards the sky "Fine. Take us home. John, grab my stuff" Gord GottwellThe demon was tired and in pain, those burns had not killed him but they'd nearly done the job. He sniffed around the room and smelled her scent approaching once again. The High Warlock. Paragon had sent him here on a suicide mission, truly. It was no loss to the fairy though, he still had all of Gord's contacts at his command, he'd only lost the loose cannon leading them. It was a win-win for Paragon, and a lose-lose for Gord. He growled in anger. Paragon. When I come back I'm going to eat you alive. The Warlock turned the corner and Gord simply frowned. He didn't try to avoid the fireball that was flung in his direction and didn't cry out when he was incinerated. He had lost a long time ago. CassandraCassandra nodded and she downed her beer "Well this has been a wonderful political conversation and it was lovely meeting you, but you know how it is. Places to be, people to see, etc." She said to Karl "I'm sure we'll meet again soon Karl" she smiled as she wheeled her way out of the building, her strong werewolf men following closely behind. MasqueMasque had been further away from the conflict than others, but he could see that involving himself now would be a bad move. He saw Morrigan being engulfed in vines. Inside cold quiet fury burned and he stared towards Gaia. So called Mother of Fairies, what kind of mother kills her children. His fist clenched, then after a moment unclenched. Now was not the time for rash decisions. Gaia would pay for her mistakes, the whole world would pay for their mistakes. The destruction of beauty was the greatest crime of all. Slowly, Masque trudged towards the black van. He did not rush, there was no need, nobody was paying him any attention. As he went he counted vendettas. How many people needed to die, how many people needed to suffer for their crimes. And how he would complete his task. Masque got into the driving seat of the black van, Paragon's men let him enter compliantly. ParagonOnly Paragon looked uncomfortable as the masked man came in. He unemotionally began driving back down the road, towards HQ. "Welcome back, Black King" he greeted. Masque didn't respond "Sir, we lost priority target..." "If you don't want me to drive off this bridge I'd suggest shutting up Paragon" Masque snapped. Paragon shut up. Their mission had just become a lot harder.
Prince Vyle Blackwing, The Night HunterVyle bared his teeth at the undead abomination and snarled. The creature was horrible, but he didn't have time to throw up. But things were getting worse. Vyle heard the cavalry approaching before Ana mentioned it, but as she pointed out the colours Vyle too recognised them. Vyle quickly dodged to the side as the undead hulk swung one necrotic fist towards him. As he landed, he looked back at Ana "Nilfgaardians... I'd worry more about the dead than the living right now, these knights look like they're helping" Vyle backflipped and skulked into the shadows. The abomination, having lost its target, turned and loomed over Ana. Just as it was about to strike Vyle appeared atop its head (or something close to a head) and stabbed it with his daggers. The beast stopped, but didn't seem to feel any pain, no blood seeped from that pale decomposing skin, for the first time Vyle had no idea how to beat his enemy. Solomon, The DeathbringerSolomon watched with a smirk as the vampire fought his creation helplessly. However, his smirk widened as he spotted the approaching army "It appears we have a challenge on our hands, friends" Solomon chuckled to the wraiths gathered around him "Deal with them" he commanded, before turning and skipping away merrily. As he went back into the castle he arrived just in time to see the lock on the cage melted off. "FINALLY. We can have some fun around here!" Solomon gestured with his staff and the lifeless body of Aaron stepped forward, steel sword in hand, eyes filled with hatred. "He really hates you" Meanwhile, ethereal figures floated down from the battlements and descended upon the approaching knights, gaining speed on them. As the group of six wraiths approached the army, lanterns raised, they drew ghostly swords and prepared to attack. Willow Duskstrider, The WidowmakerWillow, still as Selene, ducked low and sliced the abomination across the leg with her silver sword. It didn't seem to do anything to the creature, no blood spilled, and the wound barely seemed to affect the creature. She dodged out of the way of a kick and cursed as more slashes were met with resistance. Ducking out of the creature's range she rifled among her gear to check if she had anything of any use, but found nothing. She wished the mages would actually help, blades were ineffective. Zavarius Boldhorn, The Monster SlayerAfter the army were sated and the strange man seemed happy with the result, Zavarius slowly came in closer towards the city, out of earshot from his army. He personally didn't want to do this, but Archon had requested it "Now that was just for the benefit of the soldiers, they'd be livid if we joined forces. But King Archon told me before I left that if you were not hostile, we should invite you to join us. So... I'm just going to put the offer out there. We can give your... people... respite and home and... food. There are plenty of advantages, but Archon wants your power on our side"
Doctor Walter Beowulf SaturdaySaturday skipped along, until he got bored "Great, quarters, wonderful. Simply wonderful. Great job leading me here Mr Winters. I can't pronounce your first name but I'm sure it's great too" Saturday barely looked at the living quarters he was given "This is a wonderful ship, honestly. I wonder what the cargo bay's like? You can tell a lot about a ship from its cargo bay, let me tell you" With that, Saturday began to walk briskly off to the cargo bay with an eccentric smile.
Nicholas NightwineAs Paragon lifted a gun to Morrigan's head his eyes widened in shock, that shock was exacerbated by Morrigan's unhelpful reaction to the situation. He walked over to Paragon and slapped the gun away angrily. Paragon did not resist but looked upon the other two haughtily and with interest. "You said you wouldn't harm her!" He hissed ParagonParagon inwardly sighed, this was not going exactly to plan "I have not harmed her, have I? Now would you kindly move out of the way Nicholas-" Before Paragon could finish he felt a sudden blunt force from behind and felt the crunch of his body armour giving in. Stumbling forward and cursing, Paragon wished they were in a more urbanised area. Here he felt like he could barely see, there were no cameras, no electronics beyond what him and his agents carried. Turning around hastily he raised his gun and searched for his opponent, what he was not expecting was a living shadow. Nevertheless, Paragon could improvise. The natural enemy of a magical shadow was magical light. Paragon raised a hand and a sudden bright magical ray of light burst forth, engulfing the shadow in light. Nick turned to Morrigan with a nervous smile "You don't understand... I do care, I really do. Sorry about all the cloak and dagger, but what Paragon's trying to do is for the good of all of us, and you are the key to everything. Did you know you have some of the most angelic blood in the world? That's why Titania wants you, and we can't let Titania have you" Nick begged. As he spoke he could see the black truck getting closer and closer, contained several more of Paragon's agents. "Paragon's agency is one of the only places in the city where different races work side by side in equality! We're not the bad guys! I really don't want to resort to violence..." MasqueThe warlock Ash was approaching, no doubt to defend Morrigan. Masque snarled. Magically hidden in the shadows he was invisible to the warlock. This warlock, who had done nothing but insult him this whole time. This warlock who did not understand. This arrogant pompous piece of trash who dared to insult Masque. As Ash approached Masque made a small gesture with one hand and in front of the warlock appeared suddenly bright lights and fireworks, dazzling and distracting him. While the warlock was distracted Masque took careful aim and shot the warlock in the leg. The ambush was almost beautiful, the warlock so concentrated on one goal he forgot about anything else. Gord Gottwell/AbyzathiladWarlocks. The word was a curse in Abyzathilad's mind as he beat down the door with thick rending claws. The door was recieving magical reinforcements, but even magic wore out eventually. Warlocks. They were not worthy. Spawn of demons, but nothing like them. Haughty, pompous, idiots, most of them. They thought they were equal with demons? They were nothing, they were accidents. They were not worthy. Warlocks. Usually spawn of lesser demons, Abyzathilad had his own children killed, cooked, and eaten. There was that one with the pig snout, no point remembering the *******'s name. He tasted like bacon. Warlocks. There was no point in their existence, too many demons had been beaten by their own children, lesser demons, less cautious demons. Abyzathilad was not like most demons. Finally a claw swipe broke down the magical barrier and Abyzathilad roared as his hulking form stepped through, tongues licking at the air to find something to eat. Cassandra"You may be right, but from what I've heard the nephilim leadership has had... troubles. Quite a few troubles. I am not aware of the details but it seems that this may be an opportunity for some of the downworlders to get their 'vengeance'" Cassandra sipped her beer some more "Grayson, Titania, many mysterious figures who keep a secret identity. Perhaps even Yuri"
Prince Vyle Blackwing, the Night HunterVyle snarled as Solomon taunted them "He might be lying" He said under his breath to her "But if he's not, it doesn't matter who he has, we can't let him kill them" Vyle looked up at his enemy. The mage looked bedraggled and exhausted under his mask and hat, though still held onto a sinister smile. "Let them go Solomon! Or I'll kill you myself!" Solomon, the Deathbringer"If you're trying to scare me, you're doing a terrible job. There are, what, four of you? Against my army? Somehow I don't think any attempt to fight would go well, it's just too unfair for you" Solomon sighed "Which is why I propose a new plan! If you can beat my guardian then you win! Congratulations! If you lose you die! Oh how tragic!" Solomon cackled as he jumped off the battlements and retreated back further into the castle. In the courtyard, the ground began to rumble and shake. Dirt was pushed upwards with force as a horrific abomination pushed itself up through the ground. Constructed from a pile of corpses, the abomination was a patchwork of undead flesh. Arms stuck off from it in odd directions, there were many faces covering it's horrible body. Each of its limbs were constructed of multiple bodies, it's fingers were made from arms and legs. It's head was three different faces stuck together, eyes glowing red, mouths contorted into expressions of agony. As this shambling monster pulled itself from the ground, its gaze turned to Vyle and Ana with hatred, as it prepared to attack. King Archon I, Supreme Ruler of Redania"A king who fights in too many wars ends up losing his head to the enemy. Of course, that's good enough for idiot rulers who have no other skills, but surely an intelligent monarch would be a vital part of the strategic process, instead of leaving that to advisors. As for having the respect of the people, well, what good is respect if you're dead? The people of course must respect you, but you don't need to enter the battlefield to do that" Willow Duskstrider, The WidowmakerWillow watched Zephyr carefully as they hid away. She could quite easily capture him right now. She had anti-magic grenades, and plenty of weaponry. She could take him back to that beast Milosh and never have to deal with the horrible man ever again. After all that's what she'd been hired to do. She reached for a grenade slowly and cautiously, but hesitated upon the arrival of Solomon. Zephyr was a juicy target... but Solomon. She was being paid to capture Zephyr, she had no feelings either way towards him. But Solomon... she hated Solomon. A mage, abusing his abilities ardently to oppress those he considered weaker. She hated him with a passion and she was reminded once more why she had entered the assassination business, to get rid of tyrants like this. Fuck capturing Zephyr, she wanted to eviscerate this aberrant necromancer. As Solomon left and summoned his creation Willow came charging in, still under the guise of Selene. Pulling out her silver sword she stood near Vyle and Ana. Her eyes widened as the creature pulled itself out of the dirt, she'd seen nothing like this before in her life. She was looking forward to finding out how to kill it. Zavarius Boldhorn, The Monster SlayerZavarius listened to the man. He seemed quite civilised for a man who called ghouls his children. Zavarius was caught. He wanted to kill this man and mount his head as a trophy on his will. He wanted to slay every revolting ghoul and necrophage in the city. He was a monster hunter, it was literally his job. Then he looked into the misty city. The man had dark magic on his side. While he was certain he himself would be able to navigate the mist, he was not so sure about his soldiers. They were not smart men, they were not trained to fight enemies who were hiding. If his army entered the city, it was quite possible they'd all be killed. Not to mention the consequences if he went back to Archon with another failure. He'd been charged with clearing the city, there was no need for bloodshed. "Very well. We will pull back, allowing you to flee back to your swamps, or anywhere, as long as it's not another Redanian settlement. We will not attack" Zavarius turned and yelled an order, a captain saluted and yelled some more orders, the army slowly began to shift. "If you are looking for another city to live in, go to one of the Nilfgaardian ones!" Zavarius said with humour to the man who spoke for the creatures.
Nicholas NightwineNick stumbled after Morrigan in surprise as she dragged him away. Something he had done had caused her great anger somehow, and he honestly had no clue what it was. As she questioned him his brow furrowed and he thought back. How did he know? What did he know? Was it something to do with... oh. He stared into her face blankly. He knew about the plants, he knew about her magic. And he also knew she had been trying to hide it. In that moment Nicholas noticed several things. The first of these was everyone else walking away, they were completely alone here. The second was a black truck driving towards them. It was still a little distance away, but Nick knew who was in it. He turned back to Morrigan with a sad look as he reached for his phone "I'm sorry" He murmured. The purple eye logo appeared on his phone screen. Behind Morrigan blue energy manifested and Paragon appeared, gun raised. ParagonAs soon as he got the signal from Nicholas, White Knight, Paragon traversed through the internet to appear by his phone, behind the fairy. He raised a gun. "If you do not resist you will not be hurt, Miss Moonsong" He said unemotionally. This girl was just another step towards their goal, Paragon didn't care for her life. What was the life of one fairy against the wellbeing of all downworlders? MasqueMasque blinked and cowered away from Alarick. As he walked away, Masque turned and went back to Morrigan, who appeared to be dragging the nephilim away. Slowly and cautiously Masque melted into the shadows and watched. When the strange figure appeared he did not react, not even when Morrigan's life was threatened. Slowly and carefully he pulled out his pistol and aimed. Gord Gottwell/AbyzathiladThe more Hestia spoke, the angrier Gord became. he tried not to let this anger show, until she began to summon fire. How could she resist his magic? A thousand mortals, warlocks, vampires, werewolves, nephilim and even fairies had submitted to his will in the past, yet this one ignored him? And now even this pathetic wretch was taunting him, as fire began to swirl around him. The flames burned at his skin, and Abyzathilad screeched, a loud ear piercing screech of agony and rage. But in the midst of this fire the human form began to burn away, pasty skin gave way to pitted red hide. It was time to remove this facade. Crimson claws burst from the demon's hands, the suit burned away and revealed a massive maw in the demon's stomach. At last the face melted away to reveal a bulbous head with a wide mouth, filled to the brim with razor teeth. The face now had four eyes, and huge red ram horns. With a roar, the fire was dissipated, and from the smoke stepped forward this horrific obese creature, shuffling forward on powerful legs. Its skin with charred and smoking, but it wore a determined grin. "I was born in fire, I shall not die in it!" it roared as it clawed at the door and began to consume it. CassandraCassandra kept a level expression as Karl spoke "Perhaps you are correct" she stated "You're an interesting man Karl. I had heard tales of the viking wolf from across the sea, I thought you were a bloodthirsty berserker. It appears I have been proven wrong, you have a certain level of caution" She smiled slyly "Unification against the fey? Interesting. Titania is indeed a megalomaniac tyrant, but it has always been the nephilim who have oppressed our species, and the rest of the downworlders, throughout history. Why is your grudge against the fey?"
Nicholas NightwineNick was suddenly brought out of his interest in his phone as Morrigan approached, for a split second he looked at her with worry, before his face suddenly broke into a smile, seemingly unfazed by her serious tone "Of course" He said politely, but in his mind conflicts were arising. He paused for a moment, indecisively, before continuing "Can we have some privacy?" As he spoke his eyes flickered towards the city. They'd better arrive soon. MasqueMasque blinked in surprise as Alarick wandered away, seemingly ignoring him. Hunched over and slightly paranoid, Masque followed. He rushed to catch up with the shadowhunter "Are... are you going to let me go free?" He hesitantly asked. He whipped his head around suddenly to look at Morrigan, who seemed to be confronting someone else. She was angry, it didn't look good on her. He turned back to Alarick again and noticed the warlock had also arrived. Withdrawing slightly from the warlock Masque turned to Alarick almost pleadingly "Can... can I go home now?" ParagonIn the heart of Paragon's HQ, there was a dark office in which sat the orchestrator of the faction. The fey steepled his fingers and stared at the various screens, each of which showed an interesting scenario. In the Seelie Court Titania seemed to be making preperations. Outside Hestia's apartment his demons had arrived. All over the city werewolves were getting ready to claim their right to become alpha. This, Paragon thought, would be interesting. White Queen and Black RookElizabeth and John sat in the lush forest, enjoying the wildlife and simply looking around at what there was. "This Gaia woman is wasting our time, she can't be that busy" Elizabeth scowled. John simply looked at her with a raised eyebrow "I don't know about that, she is, like, mother of fairies. Motherhood has a lot of responsibility I guess?" he shrugged "She's not the literal mother of all fairies" Elizabeth laughed slightly "...At least I don't think so" "Either way, does this mean she's related to Paragon?" "I guess... that's wierd to think about" "I didn't really ever think the old guy had any family. I always assumed he killed them all" John mused. Elizabeth snickered in response "We probably shouldn't be talking badly about people more powerful than ourselves" she chuckled "Hey, if Paragon fires you, then I'll quit too" John replied with seriousness. Elizabeth smiled "How sweet" Gord Gottwell/AbyzathiladGord smiled. He was slightly fazed by the fact the warlock knew they were demons so quickly, but didn't let it show. "How lovely to meet you, of course we'll make it quick" Gord began. As he spoke, his words worked magic in the warlock's mind. He projected a haze into Hestia's mind, a haze that could blank out her thoughts and make her submit to his every whim "We have simply come to meet Brienne Lightwood and we would be honoured if you could guide us to her" His onslaught of words attempted to batter down her mind, though he could tell she was strong of will and would not be easily won over. Gord enjoyed a challenge. "You see, we can help her. She is in such a terrible state right now, caught between nephilim and werewolves. In fact, we're not sure if she'll survive. At least, not without our help. That is why we're here" his final words were filled with the magic needed to win over the warlock's mind as he struggled his hardest to make her submit. Cassandra"Preparation, yes. very wise" Cassandra noted as she drank "Of course, I prefer more discreet means. You see, I obviously cannot fight very well. Not in either form. I'm consigned to this wheelchair and missing a leg. Not to mention I'm not the most athletic werewolf. But that's not to say I don't have a few tricks up my sleeve. The position of shaman in werewolf packs is disappointingly underused. I intend to change that" She smiled secretively as she spoke "As for Grayson, last I heard he was actually back around, trying to rebuild his pack. Of course, as I said, I disagree with infighting... but Grayson may be an exception. I know he'd make the decision to kill us in a heartbeat. Maybe somebody should make the first move..." Cassandra let the implications of her words hang in the air as she smiled conspiringly.
Prince Vyle Blackwing, the Night HunterVyle blushed slightly as Ana entwined her fingers in his own, and let slip a tiny smile, revealing one elongated fang. He was distracted, however, upon the arrival of the hated mage himself. As Teliana spoke his name it was difficult to tell what emotions she was feeling. Fear? No that wasn't her style, not at a time like this. Determination? Probably. Vyle spotted the silhouetted figure on the ramparts, the mage he had spent years tracking down, the necromancer who had ruined so many lives, and afterlives. The vampire growled aggressively and his face twisted into a snarl. He gripped tightly onto Ana's arm, mostly to stop himself leaping at the necromancer with the intention of ripping him to shreds. In the back of Vyle's mind the beast desired blood and vengeance. "Solomon!" He snarled "The time has come for you to die!" Solomon, the DeathbringerSolomon cackled maniacally at the display below him "And you're the one who's going to kill me are you? Whatever happened to fair trial? What gives you the right to judge my actions, when you cannot possibly comprehend the reason behind it all?" the necromancer sneered "What a strange duo you two make, affection for a human coming from a vampire? And I thought I'd seen everything!" he laughed "Anyway, to business. I have a witcher and a mage captive here, I do believe you may have met them briefly. It'd be shame if I had to kill them now, wouldn't it?" Kilian Kadmark, the Voice of the Wild Earlier...Bare feet trod through a lush field of neatly grazed grass, they were dirty and calloused, these feet were well travelled. They didn't stop or slow as they stepped through the spilled blood and offal of a dead sheep, ripped apart by wolves. Its face pale, dead, and fearful. The feet stepped around the corpses of several more sheep, until they reached two sheep, the only two who had not been slaughtered by the recent massacre. The sheep stared blankly at the figure who approached, draped in leather and rough clothes, wearing a deer skull that obscured his wicked face. The figure finally stopped here, and knelt down, petting the sheep "Prey" it whispered in their ears, before moving off. Outside the farmstead sat a farmer and his wife, their faces solemn and drawn out, eyes filled with hopelessness. As the figure approached they stepped back slightly in shock. "Such a shame, my friend, that your flocks had to meet their end" he said levelly. The figure's voice was deep, yet soothing, reassuring, and very very calm. But there was a faint undertone that it carried, a bestial hunger "Who are you!? What are you doing here!?" the shepherd stammered, raising his crook defensively "There are some who would call me a shepherd, like yourself. I can help you" The figure intoned in his deep, yet smooth voice. "You can help? You think you can help? Open your eyes man! My livelihood has been ruined! Nothing short of a miracle can help me now!" The farmer replied with a scowl. The figure continued to smile his eerie smile, a smile that seemed to convey pity and only the faintest trace of humour. "Luckily for you, that's what I do. Miracles" "You can do magic?" the farmer asked, eyes wide "No. Not magic. Something older" the figure explained "I cannot bring back your sheep, but I can gift you with a whole new flock, twice the size of your old one. I will not ask for much. A share of your supper and shelter for the coming storm" "That sounds... reasonable... where are you gonna get these sheep from?" the farmer asked quizzically. He was rather shocked by this whole affair, and still wary of the odd stranger who had shown up so conveniently "That's not important" He stated reassuringly "Well then... I suppose I'd be very grateful for you help mister...?" the farmer accepted, holding out a hand to shake "Kadmark. Kilian Kadmark" He stated, ignoring the proffered hand. Kilian turned around back to the field and the dead sheep. The farmer thought it was odd, there were bloody trailed behind many of the corpses, as if they'd been dragged. These trails seemed to join up with one another, arranged in some sort of circle. The farmer didn't like looking at the remains, but from what he'd seen it almost seemed intentional. Kilian knelt in the middle of this circle of bodies and held his hands to the ground. His mouth moved as if he was speaking words, but no sound came out. Instead, the sound of the wind rose in volume, and the farmer was sure he could hear the distant howling of wolves. Currently...The farmer and his wife watched with suspicion as Kilian gobbled up the stew heartily and almost animal-like. He didn't even touch the spoon, and though his eating seemed erratic and wild, he didn't spill a drop. He placed down the bowl with a sigh and grinned at the farmers, revealing canine teeth that seemed much too large for most humans. The storm battered at the farmstead outside "This snow won't be good for the flock..." the farmer said hesitantly "They will survive" Kilian stated. The flock had arrived during the storm and the farmer had been amazed, From out of the forest came large black sheep who came calmly and orderly through the gate and into the field. The farmer had been herding them up earlier to head into the barn, and he didn't even need to say a word, or bring out his sheepdog. IT was as if the sheep knew his intentions. It wasn't as if the sheepdog would have been much use anyway, he seemed afraid of the new sheep. In fact, even the surviving original sheep were afraid of the arrivals. The farmer was wary too, but this morning he was ruined and now he was saved, so he was happy. "I shall be leaving now" Kilian stated abruptly as he stood "But what... what do I do now?" "You will survive. Be grateful" Kilian stated, his normall smooth voice carrying an undertone of threat. Before leaving the building Kilian crouched down to pet the frightened sheepdog by the door. He whispered into its ears "Isn't it strange how most humans can't tell danger as well as you can?". The farmer looked out of the window as Kilian left. One of the black sheep were left out in the field, but it didn't seem to be worried about the cold. They were strange sheep, they didn't seem to be shaped exactly like sheep should be. "What's worrying you dear? Our livelihood is restored!" the farmer's wife stated with excitement. The farmer felt a chill up his spine "Call me insane dear but... I could have sworn I just saw that sheep... eating one of the bodies" High Treasurer Evelynn Sylvig, the Storm Lady"Good!" Exclaimed Evelynn, relieved that Annabelle knew that much. She took out a map and laid it out on the table "There's Temeria, Kaedwen, Tussaind..." Evelynn trailed off towards the end as she hesitated to say the next place... King Archon I, Supreme Ruler of Redania"...Nilfgaard" Archon finished Evelynn's sentence as he appeared at the door "Nilfgaard. The ones who encroach upon our kingdom as we speak. If you learn anything today Annabelle it must be this: The Nilfgaardians are evil" Archon stated with seriousness as he entered "They want everything, and they're never satisfied with what they have. They will stop at nothing to take Redania. All these books, all these academics... they will not help you when the Nilfgaardians lay siege to Novigrad. You must understand how to lead, and how to wage war" Archon sat down and stared at his adoptive daughter "Of course, I wouldn't expect you to understand at your age. Yet I will ask you this. What trait do you think is most important in a leader?"
Nicholas NightwineNick's eyes widened as Gaia responded to his question. His mind raced with moral quandaries and he bit his lip. What would he do? Much much laterAfter they had returned home, Nick smiled at the familiar cityscape. But his happiness at returning home was overshadowed by the looming realisation of what he was planning to do. For a long time, he'd been deliberating over sending a message to Paragon. He'd written one out on his phone, he just happened tapped "send yet". Taking out his phone, Nick once more brought up the message. for a while his finger hovered over the button. He closed his eyes and bit his lip again. Could he do this? Could he condemn someone like this? Yes. <This is White Knight, reporting to White King We're back in New York, I have important information involving Primary Target Survey me. Send agents> MasqueAs they stepped through the portal Masque sighed and stared at the beautiful city ahead of them. He looked up at the willow tree above, an aesthetically pleasing tree of wonderful colour. But his reverie was broken by the sudden realisation that he was by no means free. He looked nervously over at Alarick and withdrew slightly "What now?" Gord Gottwell / AbyzathiladAs Slavko approached Gord turned and looked imperiously down at the inferior demon. "Really? Is that what you've gone with?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly, then scoffed. "Very well" Gord had two vampires, wearing suits. He himself wore a large grey waistcoat and jacket. He turned back to the door to the apartment building and pressed the buzzer for the penthouse suite "Hello? Me and my companions would like to speak to Hestia Sunspoke please" Cassandra"Cassandra. And I have no particular business with you, can we not simply have a chat without politics getting in the way?" Cass smiled as she wheeled up to the bar. One of her followers bought a pint of beer and handed it to her, she began to sip, while still staring at Karl "From what I've heard, you're also in the race to become Alpha. I wish you good luck. No good would come of fighting amongst ourselves. After all it's up to the four in the end" she pointed out as she gulped down beer "Know anything about the other contestants?"
