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Offline Alois Mar 8 2020, 2:47 PM
  • Age:
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Human
  • Rank:
  • Total Posts: 2
  • Played by: Onii
675 Mana · View All Items?
Are you Superstitious?


  • ELIGIBILITY: A maximum of 10 CHARACTERS AT A TIME can join this thread. If they are currently participating in GROWING PAINS, they cannot join this thread. One character per writer is favorable, but if a space remains open for too long, Dire will notify return writers that they can add another. Once the thread has 10 CHARACTERS, Alois will begin responding.
  • POSTING: Alois will respond to each character directly after they interact with her. Ergo, the posting order caters to her. Alois will respond in a window of 24-48 HOURS at maximum from the last post. Before skipping a character, give 24 HOURS. Characters can complete this Encounter as soon as they get their reward, without an exit post necessary, if the writer chooses.

  • QUEST TYPE: Ask-And-Receive. In this type, characters interact with the NPC directly and receive a direct result based on their interaction. No particularly complex interaction necessary. This thread is also LIQUID-TIMED, which means that despite how many characters may join, they do NOT have to necessarily be written as showing up on the same day or at the same time. This prevents conflict of...certain personalities. Because of this, the NPC will respond to each character as a separate scenario, and will only address the previous poster to keep a clean line between characters.
  • JOINING: No Sign-Up necessary. Characters simply join IC for this quest. Encounter commences once the NPC responds.
  • REWARD: You get your palm read. She says it may come in handy in the future.

  • Offline Peregrine Mar 8 2020, 5:05 PM
    • The Weyrs
    • Age: 28
    • Gender: Female
    • Race: Dire
    • Rank: Espin
    • Total Posts: 15
    • Played by: Frizbee
    280 Mana · View All Items?
    For some reason, Pippin had been sure that the idea to explore these ancient ruins was a good idea - an adventure! - she'd thought. An opportunity to see a part of her Dire history that she'd only heard about in stories and read about in books. Nevermind that the ruins sat in the middle of a jungle; she'd been raised to know how to take care of herself within the wilderness, so this place would be no different to any other wild area she'd traversed.

    Except, no other place she'd visited had felt quite so... eerie. Fen had dropped her off in a clearing and at first she'd loved running through the thick trees in her dire form; it was exhilarating bounding beneath the canopy, darting and ducking and practically flying... until she'd realised how quiet it was. Only the sound of her pounding heart and her pants for air echoed in her ears. There were no birds, no animals. Even the wind seemed dead and still. Suddenly, Pippin didn't feel like she belonged.

    Just as she was about to turn back her sharp hearing picked up a sound that at first seemed smothered by the silence, rather than cutting through it. Soft and melodic, she soon realised it was someone singing. Eager now to carry on her exploration, Pippin ignored the snagging vines and followed the sound, her spirits and curiosity rising as the notes grew stronger. Before she breached the clearing she changed seamlessly back into her human form, her face skewed in awe as pillars and dilapidated buildings came into view.

    The old stone was cool to her touch, and for a moment she forgot about the strange singing as she was mesmerized by the scars of her species almost-destruction. She'd thought she would have loved seeing this place... but now, she found, it only made her deeply sad.

    Luckily her thoughts did not dwell on her dark thoughts for too long as the singing brought her back to the present. It did not take long for Pippin to find what she was looking for - a woman, human, by the smell of her, sitting fiddling with a book. As Pippin drew closer the tang of blood reached her nose and she saw that the woman's feet were shredded to pieces, though strangely she didn't show any signs of it bothering her. Naturally, Pippin's face pinched with genuine concern, and when the woman spotted her Pippin motioned to the other's feet, and although she didn't know if the stranger knew QSL, she signed slowly: Can I help?

    Whether the woman knew what she was trying to communicate or not, her concern was brushed to the side in favor of a greeting and an off-hand comment that she'd thought she had been someone else. Pippin looked around, wondering whether she was waiting for a traveling companion. Now that she was closer, she could see the woman didn't appear to look particularly sturdy, but before she could reach for her book so she could write down her questions a hand was thrust out to her. Pippin couldn't help but raise her eyebrows, green eyes flickering to bloodied feet and then back. Fate? She wasn't sure if she believed in it. She didn't not believe in it...

    In the end, curiosity won out. Quietly she knelt down and offered her hand.
    Offline Ivandriel Mar 9 2020, 12:18 AM
    • Khogate
    • Age: 30
    • Gender: Male
    • Race: Dire
    • Rank: Kin
    • Total Posts: 50
    • Played by: Isilzheha
    300 Mana · View All Items?
    April 22nd, 1476 - Post Malfius thread and pre Leto

    For several miles the wolf stuck to the shadows, his lengthy run beginning to wind him as he made absolute certain he wasn't being chased. Ivandriel still wasn't sure what to make of that bullshit. He had never felt that kind of raw and absolute power before, not in all of his travels thus far. It had nipped at his heels as he took off into the trees, desperate to get as much distance between himself and the strange dire who had cornered him in the caravan. It had felt almost like the energy were trying to drag him backwards, though it wasn't physical so much as digging even deeper than flesh and bone. Ivandriel had only felt a brief flicker of it, hearing it more than anything else. He didn't really like that it had been followed by a faint, echoing scream of pain after a small passage of time. That still stuck out in his mind, prevented him from trying to find sleep, until his body forced him to slow down. His chest was heaving and his tongue lolled out, Ivandriel quick to follow the scent of pooling water from a distant waterfall to quench his thirst before he isolated himself carefully in some of the thick foliage to rest.

    The sleep didn't last for very long, paranoia keeping the dire on a swivel as he listened very carefully for any small sign of the wolves he had smelled or the humans in their company. For now he was safe, though that didn't mean he should let his guard down when there was the entirety of the uncharted jungles to contend with. Ivandriel had started heading further south with a destination in mind, not that it was any one place but a so-called malevolent beast prowling about the coastlands and beyond. Only briefly had he been sidetracked, drawn to the foreign flame like a whimsical moth only to find it far from welcoming. So he continued the wandering the same way he had started: alone and free. He stretched with a whining yawn as he pulled himself from the bushes, sufficiently placated that he wasn't about to be mauled by the group he had left in the dust, and shook himself off the dew clinging to his striped pelt. Moisture still hovered around him, saturating his coat with each brush up against the wet vegetation, but it only helped perk him up in his leisure pace.

    There were more stone ruins as he went, and through the trees it was hard to miss the larger structures covered in creeping vines and moss. It was as he was scaling some of the elevations that he noticed the ominous stillness of everything around him. Ivandriel slowed to a stop, ears shifting this way and that, but he couldn't hear much of anything. Just the gentle breeze overhead in the thick treetops, so much of the jungle cutting it off that it barely reached him. No birds, hardly any insects, and he couldn't hear the telltale scraping of grounded animals as one might in a setting such as this. It set the wolf on edge, but none of that had the same impact as the sudden rise of a song did. His hackles rose, muscles tensing as claws began to poke from where they hid to touch sharp tips to the stone beneath his feet. Golden eyes shifted back and forth, head canting to one side as he listened carefully. Several seconds passed listening to the soothing tones before Ivandriel's head tilted the other way, lip curling back for a moment when he finally pinpointed where it was coming from. Not exactly, anyways, but it was a path that could be forged as the dire leapt from his perch to follow the lyrics.

    He didn't understand them, or even what language it might be, but it was becoming louder and louder with each adjustment he made to his trajectory. Then it stopped as he neared, a flash of white and green standing out as different shades than the norm. Ivandriel crept closer, stalking around in a wide arc at first in a way similar to before. For a moment he thought he should just leave it alone, but then he smelled the faint remnants of blood. Dried already and old it would seem, and as he peered around some of the trees he could see a human sitting nonchalantly in the clearing. Her song had stopped entirely now when the humming ceased, blond hair falling around her face that turned down to look at a clearly worn book. Ivandriel blinked when she didn't even look up and yet an eerily soft voice rose to break the heavy silence. Not surprised, yet evidently not expecting him, for she thought he were someone else. His head turned as if he might find this someone else lurking behind him, but they were alone.

    The woman lifted her head then, silver eyes seeming to find exactly where the wolf had tucked himself into the shadows, and it didn't quite sit right with him. He huffed out a breath now as he was no longer hidden like he once thought, and hesitantly began to let the magic flow from within. A seamless change this time now that he had done it so many times in such a short span, Ivandriel crouching where he shifted as fingers curled into the jungle debris. He wasn't nearly tired enough, dehydrated enough, or otherwise inebriated to be hallucinating this whole thing. Not that such realizations settled his racing thoughts as he squinted at the mysterious woman when she stretched out her hand as if it were meant to be taken. Fate had tugged him here along its strings, if this human's determined belief were to be taken to heart. Ivandriel wrinkled his nose at that as he pushed to his feet and kicked through the underbrush to step into the open equally as brazenly. "'Cause this isn't fuckin' weird or anything, lady," he muttered to himself, nervously shuffling his fingers through his shorter hair as he cautiously approached.

    A fortune reading? Around some long forgotten ruins? Ivandriel chewed the inside of his cheek, elongated canines firmly worrying the flesh as he deliberated in the face of the woman's patience. "Alright, fuck it," he said finally with a heavy sigh as he shifted from one foot to the other, vigorously wiping his sweaty palms on the fabric of his trousers in the same motion as he dropped one knee to the ground. It kept him aloft, ready to easily push himself up if he had the need to with one hand braced between his legs, and his gold eyes never left the human's face even as he stretched his own hand out to be taken.
    Offline Noah Mar 10 2020, 2:19 AM
    • Rogue
    • Age: 47
    • Gender: Male
    • Race: Dire
    • Rank:
    • Total Posts: 14
    • Played by: Dorian
    275 Mana · View All Items?
    February 5, 1476

    Cycles of a rise and fall remained on repeat within Noah’s mind as it so often drifted back to all that had occurred in this troublous life that had been found. Since the beginning things had spoken of ill fortune for at least one of the family in the eyes of those who looked on from the outside and sought to find their way in despite the difficult grant it would be. Such an entry had been found, a fracture of a life found at the side of the forgotten now named a Godslayer, but now it was gone once again. Words of disagreement finding themselves upon each of the brother’s tongues and in the end it had sent the discarded seraphim once more upon a path of his own despite the difficultly that came in forging it. Struggle did not stop the sandy coated wolf from pushing onward as steps refused to cease in their pull towards the next goal, the next distraction from the truth the man had come to believe.

    Guidance such as that was always a fickle thing for it did not always bring about the best decision making skills when it came to each presented opportunity to be taken. Teeth so often sinking into the thing easiest to gain from those who crossed the dire’s path and welcomed his company amongst their own for often many were as lonely as he found himself to be, seeking some form of comfort or at the very least someone to use. It did not matter much to the wolf whose heart no longer beat in a similar rhythm as it had years ago, shifted to accompany his new course, though a mind had taken awhile to catch up when it came to dealing with humans over the blood of his kin. Yet they had pulled free of a traitorous spirit for they had seen what side the wolf had taken.

    Now in that blind seeking the dire finds himself trailing through the fog swimming through the Ruins of Poreux as it swirls itself about each of those long limbs which carry him. Trees line the territory as everywhere eyes twist and turn there is a cluster of them pushing through the foliage that grows heavy upon the earth. Aggression known in the life here as thorns grow from the branches as well as all the twisted bramble that reaches out to pull at the coats and clothing to yank pieces of it from place of those who dare get too close. They seek out the treachery of those who find this land for they speak of the stories that surround these rumbling remains, perhaps it was fitting in a sense that he find himself here. But that was not a line of though Noah sought to accept as it twisted a look of dissatisfaction upon his lips.

    Only as Noah pushed deeper through the foliage was he made aware he was not alone out here as the gentle chorus touched upon his eardrums. Lyrics as eerie as the territory the owner of such a complicated soothing touch of vocals found this day. Ears twisted towards it in a seeking motion as curiosity so often won the dire over when it came to investigations of such occurrences for they simply pressed themselves tight to mind, unyielding in persistence, till the man caved enough to turn to the source. Pace sped up slightly as a trot was taken through the foliage till that maned crown was able to peer through the trees only to find the visage of a woman, the songstress, whose tune had slowly died into a gentle hum as she now fiddled with the pages of a book – though she did not miss the presence of the wolf who now watched her, yet she does not beckon outright.

    With an inhale it is not missed how blood scents the air around her and it was with but a glance that the source of the matter is able to be pinpointed. Golden eyes directing themselves to her wounds as the wolf steps from the cover of the woods surrounding them as concern laces itself upon his tongue, “You don’t need help, do you?” Yet the woman’s response was not one that shared such concerns towards herself as idly a greeting pooled from her lips with a gentle tone along the lines you were not who I was expecting. As if someone else entirely was to meet her in this section of the wilds surrounded by the downfall of a once shared home of the human and dire in an old but unforgotten realm. Soon the blonde woman continued on as her book is discarded within the moment as a hand is presented towards with wolf with the exclamation that Fate, of all things, has brought him to her now. For there had to be some reason as to why he had been drawn to this place long before her song echoed through the thicket.

    Amusement circled the moment of the wolf’s crown, “Ah Fate, she can be a cruel or gentle mistress,” it all depended on how she was treated. Still there was the ever hovering curiosity of just what this woman had offered him for she spoke of taking a glimpse into what was to come, to read the dire’s Fortune, if only he would grant his palm. So with a note of agreement Noah moves forward till paws come to rest not far before the woman as golden pools look her over once more before falling upon the offering of a waiting palm as fingers extended where they had briefly curled. “What harm could it do?” Words spoken lightheartedly despite the weight which nearly strangled them as a steadying inhale was drawn deep into his lungs before a magic of his own peeled away the wolf’s true skin. Hide, bone, and muscle all reworking themselves till a fur coat and canid visage shed to replace it with the granted form of a man left to stand before the stranger. There is little hesitation in the way Noah readies himself, all too trusting no matter any suspicious, as a hand was placed within the stranger’s outstretched one.
    Offline Aariak Mar 12 2020, 2:04 AM
    • Rogue
    • Age: 28
    • Gender: Male
    • Race: Human
    • Rank: Medici
    • Total Posts: 2
    • Played by: Julian
    125 Mana · View All Items?
    Stealing away from the depths of the compound was a common occurrence for the Medici though it was not always a journey able to be made alone as at least one seemed to find it necessary to attempt sticking to the marked man’s side. A subtle frown played across his lips as half sights flickered back toward the masked Eximius who trailed not far behind his own steps. Glances taken away nearly in the moment they were given as if it would discourage the other from tagging along. For while there was trust that Aariak would return to the proclaimed safeties that Poreaux’s hide away offered, a presence was still protected against the unknown ferocities of the unclaimed. More than merely the products grown and created cast beneath such a watchful shield.

    Yet it was not one wholeheartedly accepted this day. The clink of metal all that sounded against the air as false limb rose in silent tones, in signed protests, You don’t need to be out here Magnús. I don’t need a guide. More than truth held behind the statement for these lands were known well enough by now and it was not as if he were without the guard of weaponry. But to some that was simply not enough, though whatever traces of annoyance that would have laced spoken phrase do not fully reach the kirn’s fingers. Only those shorter, slightly stiffer motions, yet they alone were enough of tells to the practiced eye. One unfortunately held by the Eximius as a crown shook in denial for he would not be leaving just yet.

    A refusal, a promised presence, which brought the sharp sound of air to hiss between fangs. Though before more can be argued over all that lay planned was forced to the back of his mind as the Lukos’ hand suddenly halted motion. Pressing into the spaces before him yet before question can grace his fingers all that had crept into more attuned senses assaulted his own. That eerie wavering tune winding through the crumbling ruins yet it was not the song which enticed him but the perfume of blood that consumed all else. A song all its own as it only helped to encourage the vampiric toward whoever it seemed to radiate from. Once wandering steps now guided by potential promise as a form slipped past the worried acts of another.

    Investigations drawing each ever further until finally mismatched gaze came to settle upon the figure of the unknown. A woman perched upon fractured stone, fingers absentmindedly toying with the edges of worn parchment as crimson wept from the gashes upon her feet. Something eyes cannot help but to be drawn to momentarily before flashing back toward shifting features as that piercing gaze darts toward new arrivals. A telling smile curling against her lips to reach her eyes even as such did not reflect upon spoken word. Not but a mention of hoping for the presence of another. Who are you… sign quick to form questions only to fall still as brazen gesture brought him pause.

    Sights falling to trace that outstretched hand as she spoke of Fates and how it no doubt planned their meeting. Glance cast toward the looming Lukos, a man who seemed hesitant to believe anything uttered by this woman and yet it was not his fate to encroach upon. None too subtle gesture given for the other to back off before turning to sign. Aariak didn’t know if this stranger could even understand it though it did little to stop phrases from falling, Never known Fate to be particularly kind. And yet something within him still heeded its summons, that beckoning call upon the subconscious and now there was little point in ignoring it now.

    Nails curled briefly against skin as near hesitant steps carried him within her reach. That feather light touch falling away when those final whispers of wary inhibition faded completely. False digits rising to pull against the fabrics of a glove so that the entirety of a still fleshed palm may lay exposed to this stranger. What was the harm in giving in to Fate’s plans at least once more? Marks that littered flesh already told him of what could happen here and despite the initial unease there were no signs of aggressions that pulsed from her form. So it is without second thought that a hand is offered toward her own.
    Offline Branwen Apr 29 2020, 11:45 PM
    • Svalbard
    • Age: 36
    • Gender: Female
    • Race: Human
    • Rank: Archer
    • Total Posts: 17
    • Played by: Rosie
    40 Mana · View All Items?
    She coughs, but smothers it with her hand. Grim and dirty from her travelling. ‘This is a fool’s errand,’ one of the other village people had said to her. He said much to her, often, more often than not unprompted. But that did not stop her, nor delay. He wasn’t all wrong this time though, Dorsum had made itself an enemy to Svalbard. It is not safe here. She knows this, but she also knows others that knows how to get to places. She used to be a navigator, as well. Once used to the thick smell of salt on the breeze at the strait, and the rich green terrain, thick moist soil of Porthcrawl and Khorl. There she had tasted the best of apple and fruit pies.

    It is different now though.

    There is an air about it that feels cruel or indifferent; mean. Perhaps it is just what she feels. The people themselves are happy, the land prosperous and full. That she fights back an old instinct to forage or pick from the bushes or the trees. They are not hers, and as an agricultural nation they are prized goods. Goods that she doesn’t want to be found stealing. Although with it she imagines all the mouths in the village it could feed, how many mouths in Svalbard. She keeps her mottled cloak around her, fading easily into the background as another hermit or hunter that lived off the land, and kept some of the wild things at bay.

    “I am looking for a friend,” she had said. “He may need me,” and that should be excuse enough, not to dismiss the action as foolish, but to realize that there would be no swaying her. In truth, if all she had been doing was looking for Noah would not breach the borders between Svalbard and Dorsum. There had been something else also; a thing she could not put her finger on.

    She had dreamed of a ruined city. At first she had thought it had been a bad omen of war, or Stadarfall somehow, but she remembered again later as she had been inquiring that ruins already existed. Her dreams were often consistent, if not absent in shroud. Memories often twined together in abstract. It differs, it was unknown. So somehow, the lark or the raven had found herself here. It had not been kind to her, as razor vines had already sliced lightly through the top of her left cheek, and she could feel the stings, also on her arms where the leather was not present or somehow bound to protect the skin.

    The lark doesn’t know what she will find here. History she supposes; perhaps a lesson of what must not be repeated or let happen. A guidance. She only knows that for all the death and blood shed, she had not gotten her revenge. She had through protecting the innocent would be enough, and they were safe now. For now. But there is still unrest.
    She does not expect to hear the pretty song when she hears it.

    Her sense of logic told her not to look for charming things in the wilderness, lest a jungle. That was how they eat Wren, those chameleons. They attract travellers to their doom. But she had come so far already for something so bizarre so she follows the sound, even as her mind screams run, run!

    It is both a relief, and it isn’t as she steps through trees and delicately pushes back vines, to find another woman, unthreatening and even iller prepared for the unusual and barbic terrain here.

    The smell of iron there in the air that the lark immediately looks down to see her bare and sliced feet. It would have prompted her to say something if the woman did not also look either comfortable or unbothered by it as she reads. The dark haired maiden tilts her head slightly, her eyes studious on the almost equally small woman, but like she might look upon a wild thing. Curious, but unsure, and trying to understand the next move. In truth she guesses her mad, but the defensive act stops once she speaks.

    Or maybe she was mad. Perhaps they both were.

    She hoped that she did not bite.

    But she should answer her now, otherwise it would be impolite. She cleared her throat, finding it cold, dry. “Who were you expecting?” she asks curiously and looks unsurely in the other dark endless spaces that exists, between the columns and the trees before her gaze again returns as she moves, offering her hand. Who would be expecting to meet someone here? What kind of business would they be conducting? Mayhaps she shouldn’t even have asked.

    Wren looks upon the hand offered unsurely rather than the woman’s face, before her eyes flick up to her lovely grey eyes again. She does not look mad, there is intelligence in them. Perhaps a kind that evades the lark, she thinks.

    Logic told her to keep her distance. Intuition and perhaps a foolish sense of curiosity instead beckons her to move forward.

    At last instead she speaks, “they aren’t as pretty as yours,” she says though she isn’t sure why as she removes the leather and shows her hand in the other’s. Rough and thick around the fingertips and the palms where tools are often pressed, and silvered lightly by scars.
    Offline Najwa Apr 30 2020, 11:29 AM
    • Rogue
    • Age: 26
    • Gender: Non-binary
    • Race: Eximius
    • Rank:
    • Total Posts: 56
    • Played by: G
    300 Mana · View All Items?
    This path down through Dorsum was one of their least chosen ones. The fauna lived less afraid of humans here, more willing to put them on the menu than to run from them. The wild trees tore across untended roads every chance it got and made rough trails out of previously pristine paths. It was altogether a rougher trip, even if it significantly shortened the time they took to get to some of their more frequent stops. And while they never spoke the fear into open air, the howling was more frequent here. Sometimes just one, sometimes many, but it never failed that they had sleepless nights and jittery days when they wound their way through these long forgotten paths. While never a concrete thing to say it was assuredly their own phantoms that caused it, some inkling said it was more than that. Thus, they tended to stay away. But sometimes needs must, and this was one of them.

    But it wasn't howling that haunted them this time. The first time they'd heard it, they'd been torn on their desire to follow after the song. As a rule, if something was so out of place as to strike as off, as baffling, as STRANGE, it very well might not be real for the eximius. But the eternal question of what if, what is that, the hunger to understand was a stronger one. This time was no exception. They'd left the ox to graze, left the caravan to its creaky bones and set out into the wild ruins in search of the melody that called out like a siren's song. It didn't take long with Najwa's sharp ears and the clear way the notes slipped between the trees, crystalline and pitch perfect despite the foliage that ought to have dampened it. Wide amber eyes peer from between the trees as the slim eximius approached, carefully picking their way past the vines and thorns that threatened to catch at their robes and the leather of their boots.

    On first glance, the sight set out before them doesn't do much to dissuade the idea of this being a hallucination. A human, silver and gold and just a wisp of a thing only made smaller by the deep old forest that surrounded her. Blood stained the soles of her feet, a bright shock of red on her otherwise untouched form. A book that drew Najwa's eyes immediately, only to stymy any attempts to read whatever lurked on those pages by its foreign script. Her eyes met Najwa's in turn, silver to gold. The greeting is just as mystifying and Najwa drew away for a second, hands twisted tight over themselves as the little traveler evaluated the person (vision) set out before them. It held every hallmark of being a creation of their own mind, yet— Could it really hurt? "Who did you think I was?"

    Curiosity was the stronger of their two instincts and overrode any cautious fear with relative ease. They drifted forward with a hesitating stutter step, the gleam of eager eyes belied by the memory of past mistakes on this front that held their feet ready to run. Their hand hovered in the air for a moment before they touched inky black to the strikingly pale contrast that sat before them. Eyes are similarly drawn to their counterpart and Najwa's eyes were wide, drinking in every detail they could.

    Offline Dunei May 17 2020, 8:54 PM
    • Dorsum
    • Age: 22
    • Gender: Female
    • Race: Human
    • Rank: Commoner
    • Total Posts: 11
    • Played by: Kokonut
    130 Mana · View All Items?
    Yesterday, her intention had been to make a day-trip to A'took Bay. And yet here she was, standing in the midst of ruins whose memories laid heavy on Dunei's heart even though she had not yet been born at the time. Something in the godly waters of the bay had beckoned her further south, so she had stayed the night there and traveled even farther from home today. She had to see it; she felt compelled, especially before journeying away from Dorsum in the near future. Such a place was deemed dangerous and surely it was, but if she could not handle this, then how could she live an extended amount of time outside of her hometown?

    Things were changing for her—she had felt it in her bones the past few months. Part of her felt undeserving to stand among the debris of such a profound place, given that it was her species that had caused such destruction. But another part of her felt a responsibility to pay her respects to a place she had heard so much about, but had never laid eyes upon. It was the sins of her race weighing upon her. She felt regret for them—regret that the leaders of the wreckage likely would never experience.

    Dunei lowered her head to stare at the ground, a few loose strands of hair falling over her face. Her hands were clasped together in front of her. A silent prayer was said for those who were slaughtered.

    It was during this silence that the singing was heard, faint and enticing. More practical people might have walked away for fear of the mysterious dangers that crawled through this place. But Dunei was easily swayed by her whims and did not hesitate to wander towards the fascinating sound.

    Moving branches and vines out of her path, the young woman emerged into the clearing and stopped in her tracks, observing quietly. A strange sight and stranger words. Someone else? Who was this person expecting? She did not ask. Instead, Dunei was easily beckoned forward. She believed in Fate, which is why she found it so easy to go-with-the-flow and trust her gut. There were questions she wished to ask, but something eased her into holding her tongue and trusting in this moment.

    Her hand was offered to the other woman as she slowly sunk to the floor, knees pressing into the soft earth. Her hazel eyes, reflecting the greenery around her, studied the stranger as if hoping to understand something about the magic she wielded.
    Offline Lilianna May 18 2020, 7:41 PM
    • Dorsum
    • Age: 26
    • Gender: Female
    • Race: Human
    • Rank: Ambassador
    • Total Posts: 10
    • Played by: Pan
    125 Mana · View All Items?
    The lioness is a child raised on the words of hearsay. Told in no uncertain terms the shapes of the monsters beneath her bed; silhouettes of wolves in the night, remnants of their Old Gods. It is the taste of irrational fear and prejudice that first sullies her mind, then spills from her lips in ignorance. Dires are meant to be loathed, creatures of repulse who are naught greater than animals to be hunted for sport and entertainment. Such is the poison bled into her ears, the voices of Svalbard telling her to give everything they have, to hate who they need to hate, and to never question that which she does not understand.

    So it is, she knows both terror and curiosity. The former of which only truly meets with its curtain-fall when Lilianna learns to steer her contempt in the direction of a nation and their lies. Her exploration of the latter comes in smaller doses, a conversation here and there, her first visit to the Ruins of Poreux, and the countless more to come.

    The lands so far east of Marshmoor are still unfamiliar to her, barren and stripped to its skeletal frames. But history prevails, withstanding the test of time and the fickle temperament of Mother Nature. It looms like the dead risen from the earth, erosion stealing away with much of its grandeur and mankind its natural inhabitants. Yet still, she marvels at the beauty of that which is manmade being recollected into the bosom of dirt and flora. An impossible contrast, she imagines, to what it must have been like when its walls and floors were steeped in red⁠—a massacre that marks the first time blood is drawn from the children of the Old Gods.

    By visiting these ruins, she walks on the graves of the dead and as if to welcome her (or to damn her), they croon their hymns from a place beyond the thickets. The young Ambassador stops short, fear quickening the pounding of her heart and its thunderous beat in her temples. It takes her one moment to recollect herself and another to force herself forward and onward. A smarter person might have turned tail and left while they could, but Lilianna—fearful as she may be—seeks the unknown, because it is only through knowing can she be prepared for all that the world has to offer in its unique splendors and macabre horrors.

    Plunging through the foliage, she steps into the clearing, nestled in the heart of the ruins, and there her eyes of ocean and seafoam meet with its horizon of white. Her heart catches in her throat, trepidatious and anticipatory.

    At the center of it all, a mere girl sits with an open book in her palms and bloodied feet tucked to her thighs. Everything seems to move in her orbit, swaying and shifting to the gravity of her words and the momentum of her outstretched hand.

    But Lilianna does not believe in Fate—

    her hand rises, the tips of their fingers delicately grazing one another.

    Sometimes, she doesn't even believe in the gods, old and new—

    she drifts forward, fire kindling between warm palms.

    Yet here she is, entrusting her secrets to a strange girl with stranger powers.
    Offline Eirik May 28 2020, 9:31 PM
    • Corzya
    • Age: 20
    • Gender: Male
    • Race: Eximius
    • Rank: Servant
    • Total Posts: 111
    • Played by: Day
    45 Mana · View All Items?
    He was looking down at the ground rushing by, watching the princeling’s pounding hooves, the jingle of her bridle, the pants of her breath, the creak of her saddle.

    Then he’s leaned against the bark of a tree, staring down at his hand. There’s blood sticking to his palm. The night makes it look black.

    And suddenly, it’s morning again — and he hears a soft voice in song.

    His memory losses were beginning to inflict him short-term now. These were warning signs. It’d been eight years since the first incident, just once, from what he could tell, that fateful morning he’d woken up in Snelandia with nothing but his name. The blank spots would come closer and closer, like contractions, like his mind was short-circuiting. But for now he is lucid. Eirik looks around. He remembers one moment from the next. How long did he have? Weeks, or days? Suddenly he remembers the image of his blood-stained palm, checking himself for injury and finding himself bandaged already. He’d done it, most likely. Good. It wasn’t serious. Eirik peels the white bandage, trying to discern if it is fresh or not, and finding it serviceable for now.

    He couldn’t go on like this. He needed help. Help.

    Eirik’s ears twitch as he listens to the song…full, un-cropped ears, long and pointed things that poked out from underneath his dark hair.

    Then he looks up, towards the canopy. It’s some kind of ruin. Why is he so far from home? Where was Tibor? Eirik feels a thrill of fear; something had happened — something terrible. He gets the sense he has been on the run for a while now, and perhaps the thicket of the ruins might shield him, shake his scent. Behind him, he hears a snort. The princeling’s breath gusts against his cheek. Still here.

    When he makes it to the clearing he finds a girl. Before he can say anything she extends a hand as if waiting for him to grasp it. He is exhausted, and wounded, and confused. He looks haggard. Eirik glances at her bloody feet, asks “Fate?…” and lets her take his hand.

    When she does he looks sharply at the contact. He had thought her to be some kind of illusion. Now he’s unsure. “Tell me I’m not mad yet.”
    Offline Sizani May 28 2020, 10:33 PM
    • Ballasburn
    • Age: 18
    • Gender: Female
    • Race: Eximius
    • Rank: Citizen
    • Total Posts: 9
    • Played by: Sbicy
    115 Mana · View All Items?
    Sizani was too curious for her own good.

    Mist clings to her fur, its embrace lingering like the fading touch of a lover. The ruins stand like ghosts, skeleton structures whose shape bends in the haze. Hunting was a challenge here from the frequent rainfall and the way the clouds stayed behind thereafter, hovering to obscure the wounds of a failed, human settlement. There were many stories of strange sightings out here, beasts of twisted form and mind, seers and witches, and a whole number of things only recorded in fairy tale. Misfortune has struck this place like a disease, infecting those that write of its memory, plaguing it with ill omen and tragedy. Still, nothing stops the small eximius from her exploration, drawn to these rumors from the adventurous spirit that thrums through her veins.

    The gentle song causes her ears to stand up, twitching and swiveling to pinpoint its location. Deeper into the trees it drifts, an audio trail she follows like wisps into the dark. Thunder rolls overhead, the energy from a distant storm prickling along her arms and the back of her neck. Shelter would be needed tonight, for there was no way she would be able to outrun the wind.

    She has time to investigate this sound, so she tells herself as the damp trees swallow her whole. Dark hair slicked against her skull, twigs stuck in her braids, brambles and burs in her pants, she steps into the clearing. There is a single person there whose feet are oozing blood, flipping through an old tome before their eyes raise to meet them. Sizani blinks, expression concern over the woman's feet before a hand is extended. There is hesitation shown in the slow way she responds, thoughts pulling back to earlier musings of strange happenings in this wood. Deciding that there were worse things Fate could have taken her to, she steps up and offers a small, white palm to the unknown woman.
    Offline Alois Jun 26 2020, 4:31 AM
    • Age:
    • Gender: Female
    • Race: Human
    • Rank:
    • Total Posts: 2
    • Played by: Onii
    675 Mana · View All Items?
    Are you Superstitious?



    • Human Species

      FORTUNE 04: Alois has noted a wider Will half than your Logic half of your thumb. She claims that if you are ever put in a dire position where you must choose impulse or heart over rationality, choose your strongest suit at all costs.

    Alois watched Pipin with a long stare, placid and simple. She made no indication that she understood the signing and yet, after a pause, she says "...oh, this? I hardly feel it. Thank you, for the offer." and perishes the thought. Once given the Dire's hand, Alois' long hands eagerly cupped the palm and went to work.


    "You should follow what you know," Alois tells her after disclosing her findings, "some things..are like breathing. When you become too aware of start making mistakes."


    • Human Species

      FORTUNE 08: Alois has noticed that your Fate line forks in two, with one split end coming up drastically short when compared to the other. She could not tell you much about this, or perhaps simply refused to.

    Alois waited, and did not speak. Her eyes seemed to watch for Ivandriel even before he was in view, her singing cut shorter for his presence than any of the other who'd come before or after him. His palpable lack of ease, she finds, is fitting. She looked at him absentmindedly, his skittish posture glanced over, and then when his palm was offered she was slower to take it.


    After a long pause, her fingertips linger at his forked Fate Line. As though her suspicions are confirmed, Alois slowly withdraws, and mulls over the findings with a lowered head. "Fate seems...willing to abandon you." when she raises her head to catch his eyes from his vantage point, her soft features suddenly sicken with an eerily-long smile. " careful. Ivandriel." and she says no more.


    • Human Species

      FORTUNE 01: Alois has noted a fork in your Girdle of Venus, which annotates the steadiness of your emotions. She warns you that this imperfection may be dangerous to you and those around you, especially in a situation where it takes absolute placidity if you cannot provide it.

    Alois answered the offer of help with an offer of her own. It seemed she was disinterested in the state of her feet, as well as disclosing the context of her wounds. Noah appeared to be complacent with her offer nonetheless, and with that, she patiently and fearlessly waited for the large wolf to shift and offer his hand.


    "...this will make things turbulent for you," she says after the reading is done, "perhaps it already has. Allegiance, duty, ideals and familiarity. Do not get lost on the dead end," she warns him with a final point to the shorter, forked portion of his Girdle of Venus before letting the Dire's hand free.


    • Human Species

      FORTUNE 03: Alois has noted a wider Logic half than your Will half of your thumb. She claims that if you are ever put in a dire position where you must choose impulse or heart over rationality, choose your strongest suit at all costs.

    Alois appeared unperturbed by the voiceless ones, and this one was no different. Merely she watched him, her face soft but engaged as though they were locked in some intensive conversation. "Alois." She gave a simple response to a simple question. When the comment is made concerning Fate, if she's insulted she does not show it. Yet, "I could say the same about Vampires, you know." as though encountering one was such an everyday occurrence. She did not rush him as he approached, merely keeping her offer open and taking his hand in both of hers once he offered it.


    " I thought," she says after the reading is done, "you are discerning, that much is clear. This should continue being your guide. Even in..the nastiest of cases." her voice tapered off at the end in a curious manner before setting his hand free with an unassuming smile.


    • Human Species

      FORTUNE 06: Alois has noticed that your Head Line crosses through your Life Line. She appeared concerned about the idea that your life may soon rely on your creativity and ingenuity...or may be threatened by it.

    Alois appeared unaware of the eyes on her initially, but as Branwen tilts her head, the strange woman somehow does it just the same on cue. When finally she raises her head, she greets the other Human as kindly as she has the rest. When asked about the someone she was waiting for, Alois gives a brief pause. "..An Old Friend, in fact. It's the first time we've been in the same place for a long, long time." and that's all she bothers saying on the matter. When Branwen approaches and offers her hand, Alois seems pleased with the woman's ease towards the notion. Still she can feel the apprehension, and once the woman denounces the state of her hands before revealing why, Alois seems disinterested with the idea, and takes her palm anyway.


    "...hmm." after the reading has been explained, Alois gives a small pause. "It means different things for different people. For the well traveled, they come from a place of much ingenuity, and much creativity, and must either abandon it or utilize it. For the naive, the poorly social..they will either benefit from candidness, or struggle when more is needed from them. I suppose it depends..." she tapers off, releasing Branwen's hand with a wide smile. "...and don't worry, about the looks. The most beautiful things in nature can be deceptive."


    • Human Species

      FORTUNE 01: Alois has noted a fork in your Girdle of Venus, which annotates the steadiness of your emotions. She warns you that this imperfection may be dangerous to you and those around you, especially in a situation where it takes absolute placidity if you cannot provide it.

    Alois seemed all too aware of the way Najwa was taking stock of their feelings and gut instinct concerning her, her intentions, her identity. She merely waited, with a sly smile and glint in her eyes, patiently regarding them as they either came forward or disappeared into the forest. The question however made it clear that Najwa wasn't planning on going anywhere--at least, not so fast. Alois takes a moment to think, the look in her eyes shifting like she's sifting through an encyclopedia of history. "A playdate, you could say. Eximius, also. Though, they do not burn as bright as you." was it a compliment, or something else?
    At that, Najwa appeared to put aside the previous concerns to chase their curiosity once offered a reading. Alois tenderly held their hand, and went to work. Upon touch, the Human's fingers jumped back just slightly, a reflex, before resuming.


    "...I thought you felt hot to the touch. This would explain it." Alois says after the reading had been explained, "Passion is that way. Emotion. Life. ...but you'll burn too bright if you aren't careful. Try not to incinerate others, or yourself." Her description is exacting and forward, a warning without sugarcoating. She releases Najwa's hand and raises her gaze to them in finalization. "You're dangerous. But.. who, so far out in these woods, isn't?"


    • Human Species

      FORTUNE 02: Alois has noted a thick extra band in your Ring of Solomon, which annotates your righteousness and willing to serve. She claims that this may call you to protect and serve in the future, and you may be faced with sacrifice for the good of another.

    Alois noted that Dunei was the quietest one thus far, but if she was bothered by it she did not make it known. She catered to the energy around them and did not speak. It was noticed, however, how easily the Human woman had come down to her level entirely, not bothering with the higher postures or uncertain gestures of many before her. This, even before her palm had been read, told Alois a great many things.


    "...I think this is something you have been expecting." Alois says after the reading had been explained, "The width tells me it is has been impossible to ignore already. Perhaps you actively seek it, even. If that is the case..don't worry," she gives Dunei a smile that just barely shows her teeth, "I suspect your chance to do something big will come."


    • Human Species

      FORTUNE 11: Alois has noted a remarkably thin band of your Ring of Solomon, which annotates your righteousness and willing to serve. She claims that this lacking band means that you may be faced with a decision to cause great or lethal harm. The consequences of acting or refusing, she does not say.

    Alois makes note of the hesitation--was it doubt? Words would never tell, but the woman doesn't need for them to. She too does not speak, but also remains locked with Lilianna's gaze as though a good book. When offered a palm she breaks the eye contact, and goes to work.


    "I don't think this surprises you," Alois says after the reading had been explained, "It is your nature, after all. Callous..your hands are deceptively soft. I many they've hurt. hmm.." Alois speaks so simply about this as though discussing the weather, her finger tips deviating from the lines she'd been previously interested in and now simply roaming the woman's soft skin. If she was bothered by what she's learned about Lilianna, it certainly did not show. "You may be tested on that someday. How far you're willing to go. Whether you should take the leap or finally refuse..." she tapers off, finishing with a gentle shrug of her shoulders and a withdraw of her hands.


    • Human Species

      FORTUNE 09: Alois has noticed that your Travel Lines are quite long, and cross through your Fate Line. She claims that your wandering may eventually turn up a nice profit.

    Alois made note of two animals before her; the Princeling behind, and the Eximius up front. She pushed away the fervor that he radiated, keeping herself free of his energy of urgency and...something else. Her heart quickens in pace, but she is otherwise calm. He seems desperate, a type of uncertainty and fear that she has not yet seen in any of the others before or after him. His demand--his p l e a--of her cuts her focus short, and after a pause she continues to read his palm.


    "...You're running. From somewhere, t o somewhere maybe. You should keep going." Alois says after the reading had been explained, "someday, you won't run anymore. When your legs do not itch to move, do not make them. For now...go." her insight was said with a tepid touch of consoling. When she released his hand she looked back into his eyes, her head lightly shaking as though pushing away a silly thought. ", you aren't Mad. Not yet. .." If Eirik was looking back in her eyes at this time, he would have seen something dubious stir across them, and her expression tainted with some nuanced spoiling. "...Don't go back to the Hinterlands. It's calling you. Don't go back." and she refuses to say anything else on the matter, carrying on as if it hadn't been said.


    • Human Species

      FORTUNE 07: Alois has noticed that your Fate Line crosses all the way through your Girdle of Venus. She tells you to make sure you follow your desires and stay true to a blend between your goals and what keeps you emotionally stable. If you allow yourself to be pressured into breaking this relationship, your Fate may be challenged.

    Alois did not seem surprised by the unusually small Eximius that approached her in the clearing. She merely watched her, speaking as gently as she had to all the guests before Sizani. The offer was extended yet again, and despite her great differences from all the others, Sizani shared the same principle trait as everyone else: curiosity. Alois found this to be a very healthy trait to have, but would admit she's biased.


    "Don't be afraid to try new things either. Inhibition will be your enemy, but so will pushing too hard," Alois says after the reading had been explained, "you must find middle ground. The way your Fate Line crosses through tells me your life depends on this more than it does any other part about you." she forewarned Sizani of staying aware of this balance before setting her smaller hand free and giving her a soft smile.


    • Human Species

    By night, long after all her guests had gone and long after the light waned there was yet another stir in the woods. This time it was behind her, and Alois knew with a narrow of her eyes that it had been intentional. She turned her back to the crackling fire she'd since set, folding her legs, and waited for her last guest to reveal themselves.
    "I was beginning to think you would never show," she says, watching as they situate themselves on the grass. She gives them a wide smile, her eyes beaming, as ethereally friendly as always. " don't think I should be doing this, do you. here--" she offers her hand, the same as she's done many times today, "I'll show you how wonderful it is. What better way to reacquaint than to see how you've changed?" with a short pause, the larger hand is placed into hers.


    Alois is quiet for a long time. For them it was a second, but for the woods it may have been hours. Days. Weeks even, of the two locked in silence, hand in hand. "...I see. I was wrong," Alois is the one to break the silence between them, the manner of which was abyssal, and nothing compared to previous moments of theirs. She looks up at them, her eyes glinting like the moon above them that, by now, was full. "...You're still as heinous and rotted out as I remember. Callous, careless, wicked, and foolish. You never change, and you never will. Someday, this w i l l be what destroys you for good." her tone of voice belied the pointedness of her words, her hands suddenly releasing theirs as though it had been diseased. She turned back to her fire then, her head low and neck temptingly unguarded. She knows this. "...I made tea. Will you have some, Old Friend?" At that, a second cup is shared.