The Pure

Moderator: Pegasus

User avatar
Aegis
Prophet of Old
Posts: 2417
Joined: Thu Jan 11, 2018 5:04 pm
Race: Prophet
Renown: 0
Secrets
Plot Notes
Templates
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

Staff

The Pure

Tue Mar 26, 2019 8:36 am

Image
Ashan 30, 719, Possibly


Of the many people around the world who had disappeared, a few would find themselves waking in a stone hallway. There were fifteen total people, of a mix of men and women, high and low class, of varied races. Of those fifteen, three found themselves waking up near to one another. Zarik, Praetorum, and Cervantez all in their own gentle heaps next to each other. All around them, the others were waking as well.

The hallway they were in was ornately carved, and old, so old. How this was known was not clear, for there were none of the standard signs. There was not a single speck of dust, not one cobweb, not one crack in any of the stones. The hallway was curved, forming a large circle. On the inner wall were fifteen doors, each with swirling energies in the doorway, obscuring what was beyond them. On the outer wall were four doors, spaced out as the points on a compass, and while they were thick, heavy, and wooden, they appeared to be mundane enough.

A bear's roar echoed through the hallway, followed by the loud thud of flesh against stone. Just down the hall from Zarik's left, he would see the large, redheaded man that those from Scalvoris would know simply as Bear, striking his ham sized fists against the walls. His temper was flared high, and he stalked about like an animal trapped in a cage, uttering no words, but exuding hostility. The other eleven were in various states of confusion, panic, and curiosity, wandering about, inspecting their surroundings. The entire hallway was well lit, yet no light source was discernible.

It wouldn't take long to become evident to some that they were in a rather strange place. Those who had the ability to sense foreign locations or people would find those connections completely walled off. This same wall even cut those with blessings off from their Immortal. Every spark in the room was resonating with one of the doors on the inner wall, with no overlap.

Above each of the inner doors were runes of old. Each doorway had a different set of runes, a different colored energy swirling within it. And then he appeared. He had no mouth, appeared to be made of gold, or perhaps brass or some other alloy. He walked along, bowing his head at each person he passed, "Welcome Praetorum. Welcome Cervantez. Welcome Zarik."

As the man greeted Bear, the large man through a fist at him. The being, unphased, raised a hand, caught the first, then tossed it away. He didn't injure Bear, beyond the man's pride at least, and kept on walking his circuit through the hallway, greeting all the new arrivals by name.
 ! Message from: Aegis
Zarik, Praetorum, and Cervantez

Each of you has the same clothings and belongings upon your person as when you answered the Call. No outside communications or sensory abilities will function. Immortal marks will not function.

If you wish to know if something will work, do it up as an attempt. If you ask me "Will X work?" or "What will happen if I do Y?" I will tell you to make the attempt. Any other questions I will do my best to answer.

There is no posting order, and everyone gets 1 post. This posting round closes on the night of April 1st.

Image
word count: 584
User avatar
Llyr Llywelyn
Approved Character
Posts: 1064
Joined: Sat Feb 02, 2019 12:24 am
Race: Biqaj
Profession: Fairy Angel Ether Monster
Renown: +495
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Plot Notes
Personal Journal
Templates
Letters
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 4

Re: The Pure

Tue Mar 26, 2019 5:49 pm

Image

Hard stone.
The murmured sounds of people. Zarik turned over against the floor of the hallway. His black metal pauldron awkwardly pressed into his shoulder as he laid on it. Zarik turned again, to lay on his back. The youthful biqaj rested a hand over his belt. Eyes still shut, he traced his gloved fingertips over the hilts of his daggers. He hadn’t felt tired, though, and yet he’d been asleep?

Zarik's eyelashes fluttered and he opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling. In his peripheral, he saw other people – strangers he didn’t recognize – as the varied men and women awoke. They stood, walked around, spoke, and otherwise; but Zarik laid there still.

What had happened? He retraced his steps, mentally, to recall why he was wherever he was. He’d followed the call, after Alistair… but his husband was not in front of him anymore, nor was he even next to him. He couldn't see or sense him. Should he had fed ether at the exact same time instead of shortly after? Zarik placed a hand over his face, covered his eyes, and felt a welling of tears threaten to break free. Was it his fault? Had he done something wrong?

Perhaps Alistair was there, just not directly beside him or near him. At the thought, Zarik lowered his hand. He sat up so swiftly that his entire body lifted into a sprightly upward jump. The svelte blond landed on his feet, albeit with a quiet thud of his armored boots against the immaculate stone floor. His new attire still felt strange with the slight changes in balance and weight, but it didn’t hinder his natural inclination for agile maneuvers.

The irises of his eyes wrestled between dominant colors of crystalline-blue and crimson-laced amber pigment. He surveyed those he saw around him: the closest being a tall ithecal and a Lotharro, both of whom were adorned in armor as well. At least he wasn’t out of place with his attire, though as he continued to survey, he saw a few people who wore casual wear.

Zarik walked past the other men, to the left. He walked past the next wandering person, and the next, and the next. His gaze searched the crowd of unfamiliar faces. What had started as optimistic hope – that his husband might be waking farther away from him – turned to repressed panic when he couldn’t find Alistair. His steps quickened in pace, nearly a jog, as he got a look at every individual in the ancient hallway. His breath turned ragged behind his mask. A jittery tension coiled in his limbs, along the pathways of his veins, silver blood rushing fast through him.

He nearly yelped when a redheaded man next to him roared and punched the wall. Zarik placed a hand over his pointed ear as if to muffle the sounds of the bear-like howl and impact of the furious fist against stone. It seemed most, if not all, of the other people had woken up without a clue as to why they were there. Zarik surveyed the area as he followed the corridor. He paused, at one of the inner doors, when his spark trilled in resonance. Was Alistair past the swirling energy? If Zarik went through the portal that sung to him underneath the runes, would he reunite with the magister? He hesitated, uncertain about the sensation. He thought of the alluring draw that'd called him here, that had separated him from his soulmate, and he refused to follow another impulse so easily.

He kept on his search of the corridor, twice around, until he found himself back where he'd started.

A circular loop.

It was confirmed, now. Alistair wasn’t here. There were no places to hide, either, other than whatever lay behind the doors and portals that mocked his curious nature. Zarik went to the outer wall. He pressed his back against the stone, then slid down to sit on the floor.

The blond drew his knees to his chest, hugged them close, and watched the other people. A couple tears broke from his eyes, the irises of which had become an unchanging shadowy dark blue color. The salted moisture gathered at the upper lining of his leather facemask. He pressed his backside harder against the wall, as if he wanted to fade into the stone itself.

He tried to reach out with his ethereal bond to his mentor, to find Alistair, or to send him a message, or connect with him in any regard… but nothing happened. Zarik stared at the inner doors, which he viewed as portals for they had energy swirling in various hues and impressions. His thoughts turned over, moving past the obvious fact that he was alone in a crowd. He needed to find Alistair, wherever the magister had vanished to.

It was then, that He appeared: humanoid, not of visible flesh, rather encased in warm-hued metal. The stranger greeted the rest of the strangers, then also Zarik – he knew his name. He knew all their names. The redheaded savage tried to punch the host, but to no effect or even a stern word otherwise.

Zarik ran a hand over his forehead, then slid his fingers through his fair-colored hair. He felt as if he were shaking, but when he checked the stability of his hand, it appeared to hold steady. His momentary tears dried. Nothing Alistair had lectured him about magic since his initiation had mentioned something like this. He intently listened and watched to what the others might say or ask or do – seeking information through their choices… and he assumed an explanation would come from the gilded individual who knew their names and politely greeted them all.

He slowly stood, though he kept his back against the wall. The biqaj glanced at the nearest outer door. He sidestepped closer to the door. He placed the flat of his palm on the thick, heavy wood to identify and analyze it.

 ! Message from: Aegis
Composition: Volantan Oak
Age: Well over 1000 Arcs
Durability: Stronger than steel and stone
Weak Points: None
Magical Ability: Highly resistant to divine, domain, spiritual, and other forces. Has a magical trigger attached. Feels like "death"



Speak Think
word count: 1069

Etzos

The following visuals are not applicable in the Etzos territory during Ymiden: Gossamer Wings, Halo.

Eyes

Llyr's eyes are constantly changing based on a blend of his emotions.
When an emotion dominates, the pigment expands past his irises to the entire eye - faintly glowing in that emotion's color.
See Color References here.

Mutations

  • Gossamer wings resembling a cross between the wings of a dragonfly and a flying ant.
  • An iridescent halo that hovers over his head.
  • Crystalline legs from his toes to the mid of his thighs (like stockings made of quartz embedded into his skin).
  • An ever-moving inky tattoo, with Rorschach-like designs, on his back.

Scars

Llyr currently has 9 major scars, referenced on his CS.
Most noticeable is two parallel lines, with an triangular arrow point connecting them, on the center of his forehead.

Totems

When in a totem's body, Llyr's mutations persist but his scars do not.
User avatar
Cervantez
Approved Character
Posts: 452
Joined: Tue Jul 03, 2018 8:59 am
Race: Lotharro
Profession: Yari Runner/Mercenary/Assassin
Renown: +195
Character Sheet
Secrets
Plot Notes
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 4

Contribution

Re: The Pure

Wed Mar 27, 2019 5:46 am

☠ Ashan 30, 719, Possibly ☠
☠ Mood: Curious, Cautious
☠ Company: Many others
☠ Current Thought: What the hell is going on?
☠ Current Theme: Bury Me Low
☠ Attire: Masterwork Armor
"Common Speech"

"Xantheon Speech"
Image
Well it was more than clear he wasnt in Yaralon anymore, where exactly that was however, he did not know. He awoken some time ago, sitting on the floor against the wall as he watched the surroundings, looking at the ones around him. He wasnt spectating them, but studying their reactions in being in this place, hoping to discern clues as to where he was.

The architecture was pristine, crisp and clean in design, and well taken care of. It was as if they were in some sort of palace. He noticed the details of the materials used, but couldnt tell what kind of craftsmanship was, but he could tell the technique was unknown to him. He also saw there were quite a few of them in this room.

More than a handful and they seemed to be just as out of it as he was. He took note of the doors that lined the hallway, each resonating some form of energy, one he could only attribute to what he seen on fractures. "Could these doors be pockets, smaller fractures that led elsewhere?" he pondered not really sure what the outcome would be if he tried to go through one.

To test this, he undid the wrappings on his hands to see how bad the ethereal flames on his hands would flare up but continued to inspect the hall in which he now found himself. Whatever the result his hands provided, he knew he wasn't anywhere where normal applied.

A distinct growl escaped his lips watching one fellow in particular thrash around like a dunce, which annoyed the necromancer. He had seen his fair share of idiots but this guy had taken the cake. The lothar found the redheaded brutes hostile nature irritating, to say the least, but refrained from letting his beastial nature take hold and cause him to make a rash choice.

Instead, he focused on the door that echoed to him, that pulled on his soul. Standing in front of it the swirling energy of the door was a mix of black, aqua green, and sapphire blue. Looking at it he couldnt help but feel empty, like looking into a pit and not knowing if it had a bottom or not. That's when that thing appeared.

An odd figure, made of metal, gold in color, and spoke with no discernable mouth on its face. Cervantez nodded as it greeted him, watching as it went about its business. When it got to the hulking brute, the redhead tried to attack but was easily tossed aside like some ragdoll. The scene made the Lothar chuckle, but also made him note not to piss the thing off.

Walking up to it, the inquisitive mage called to it, asking a question.
"Care to enlighten us to why we are here. One minute I'm assessing my thralls, the next thing I know, i'm hit with this odd sensation and appeared here?"
he inquired, his flaming orbs scanning over the figure intently. ☠
Image
word count: 568
Image
User avatar
Praetorum
Approved Character
Posts: 539
Joined: Sun Jan 20, 2019 11:08 am
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Mercenary
Renown: +255
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Plot Notes
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 4

Contribution

Milestones

Re: The Pure

Fri Mar 29, 2019 6:30 pm





Image

????


It seemed Praetorum was not the only one who had received the call. The ithecal stirred, sitting up from the stone floor only to find perhaps a dozen others all doing the same. From the looks of it, they were all of them as confused as he was, some responding with puzzlement, others with panic, and yet others with anger. 


Prae looked around, frowning as he did. Where in the blazes...

As he watched, a young man who had woken up besides Prae hurried down one side of the curving hallway, only to reappear on the other side soon after. A circular hallway, then. How bizarre. That meant there were— Prae quickly counted— fifteen doors, all leading into whatever room or rooms were in the center of this circle?

Praetorum shook his head. No, he was thinking too normally. This was magic, or a fracture, or something like that; something that didn't make any sense. What else would this be? In fact...

Standing, Praetorum made a loop around the hallway, counting the number of people in there. Fifteen doors. Fifteen people. 


No. Sixteen. 


Prae took a step back in surprise as a figure appeared. This... man, for lack of a better word, gleamed metallic, and seemed almost like a statue. Only Prae had never seen a statue move like this before, or speak without a mouth. It was obvious he wasn't like the others, so was this the person who had summoned them here? 


Even as Prae thought it, another stepped forwards to vocalize the question surely on everyone's mind. A man with eyes of flame.... Ah. The necromancer Prae had fought with in Raskalarn's temple. Prae stepped forwards, nodding to Cervantez in greeting, before adding his own questions. "Who are you, if you don't mind me asking? And what's through those doors?" Prae asked, gesturing at the fifteen inner doors.
word count: 333
Let's play 'What's Weird About Prae'

Head

  • A fiery rune shines under his right eye
  • A firey glow in the back of his mouth

Arms

  • A ring of blue runes floats over each of Prae's wrists
  • A silver shield marks the back of his right hand

Misc

  • His tail is about eight feet long, usually knotted around his waist
  • His body temperature is uncomfortably high

Surroundings

  • Wind gusts with every step he takes
  • The area around him is slightly more static-y than normal
User avatar
Aegis
Prophet of Old
Posts: 2417
Joined: Thu Jan 11, 2018 5:04 pm
Race: Prophet
Renown: 0
Secrets
Plot Notes
Templates
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

Staff

Re: The Pure

Tue Apr 02, 2019 8:35 am

Image

As the metallic being continued its circuit, it looked up at Cervantez's question. "You are here because It chose you. To save Them." And so, it kept right on walking. Eventually it made its way to Praetorum, and some more questions. It never stopped walking, but it did answer, "I am Number None, Guardian of the Gateways." Looking at the gateways in question, "Those lead to your Trials, of course." And then he kept on his circuit.

Meanwhile, Zarik's attunement to the door had many more effects than the information he'd gleaned. Several names popped up in his mind. Vega, child of Faldrun, supported by fire. Luther, the living dead, supported by life. Hart, child of Edasha, supported by lust. And just as those names appeared in his mind, his own, Zarik, pure seeking, appeared in the minds of Vega, Luther, and Hart. And Zarik would find that he had opened a method of communication with them, mentally, so long as he was touching the door and using his Attunement. He could talk to each of them, individually, and they could talk back. But that connection was expensive, and it would be obvious just how much it would drain maintaining it.

As Number None continued around, other questions were asked and answered, most of which were mundane. Why are we here? Where are we? Why were we chosen? They all received the same answers. But the redhead, Bear, was not one for questions. He stalked after Number None, until Bear stopped in front of one of the gateways. One that was swirling of dark greens and browns. It was the gateway that resonated with him. And without further pause, the man stepped into it, and disappeared. The gateway glowed bright for a few moments, before returning back to normal.

After Bear's departure, Number None had new words for everyone. "Bear, child of Mama Bear, has begun the Trial of the Wild."
 ! Message from: Aegis
Zarik's action has affected those in The Door of Death. Zarik may include anything he may wish to say to any of the members of the Door of the Dead. If so desired, you all may handle any back and forth through DMs/PMs/Gdocs as you see fit, and then include them in your posts.

Any questions your PC will ask IC will be answered by a PM/DM, so as to be added to your post if so desired.

Any OOC questions are welcome.

This round is open until the morning of April 9th.

Image
word count: 432
User avatar
Llyr Llywelyn
Approved Character
Posts: 1064
Joined: Sat Feb 02, 2019 12:24 am
Race: Biqaj
Profession: Fairy Angel Ether Monster
Renown: +495
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Plot Notes
Personal Journal
Templates
Letters
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 4

Re: The Pure

Tue Apr 02, 2019 5:46 pm

Image

Death.


The door felt like death.

Zarik caressed the door with his gloved palm. The wooden structure felt older than any material he’d ever identified before, and it was an immensely robust Oak. Physically durable, stronger than even stone and steel, but also magically resistant with… he paused.

For the first time in Zarik’s short life as a mage, he felt something more than mere recognition of the material that made the door. Names appeared in his mind as well. Names of people: people he didn’t know, but people who had information attached to them.

Vega, child of Faldrun, supported by fire.

Luther, the living dead, supported by life.

Hart, child of Edasha, supported by lust.

His confusion came at an inopportune time. He’d been trying to also listen to the answers that the gilded stranger offered the crowd around him. He glanced at the metallic being: Number None, Guardian of the Gateways. Trials. Save Them… Save… Them?

Was Alistair in trouble? Zarik’s pulse quickened.

Split between his attention toward this potential and what he felt within the door, Zarik closed his eyes. He instinctually knew that the three names he’d drawn from the door were aware of him as well. Had they created the door? …Were they inside the wood? Such a thought sent a chill down his spine. Had the material for the door been mixed together with the remains of people? Behind his closed lids, the irises of his eyes turned amber in hue.

Life, he thought to the name of Luther, the living dead. Zarik wanted to acknowledge these people, whoever they were, and relay that he’d heard their need to be known.

And he heard a response, one that wasn't exactly pleased with his acknowledgment, “You’d best get outta my head. Now. I already gotta deal with ghosts--” Zarik swiftly moved on from Luther, as it seemed obvious that whoever he was, he didn't want to chat.

Fire, he thought to Vega, the child of Faldrun, immediately after.

"Fire? What?" He heard a woman telepath back. "Who're you an' what are you doin' in my head? Is Arlo with you? Who're you? Xiur's perky nips-"

Zarik paused, confused by the drastically different reaction. He responded, "Fire supports you. I'm, uh, Zarik Venora. Maybe, who's Arlo?"

"Oh, Famula's bouncy knockers. If he were with you, you'd know. He's the handsome fella in a hat. If you see him, tell him 'is wife loves him an' to get his ass over here. Good luck with whatever yer doin' Zarik Venora. Get out of my head." It was all said rather quickly by Vega. He started to feel an increased drain of his ether… It almost felt as if, instead of identifying the structure anymore, the door was feeding from him like his mentor could. He had to stop.

Lust, he hurriedly thought to the last of the three, Hart.

"What? Hello?" This name seemed as confused as the other two. "We're in the Palace of Lions. We're trying to get out." Zarik lifted his hand and broke the connection. He couldn’t risk any more of his ether. He needed to conserve his energy.

Zarik's eyes fluttered open and he glanced around the crowd to search for a handsome fella in a hat. His gaze lingered on Cervantez: was that Arlo? He rubbed the palm of the hand he’d used to identify with. The other people in the circular corridor asked more questions of their mutual guide, only to receive the same answers. The biqaj considered whether Number None was simply a shell, no more real than a thrall or Changeling. He wondered what lay beneath the warm-tinted metals, if there was flesh or if it was empty or... but he wasn’t about to try and cut their amiable host open to find out.

The redheaded brute from before walked through a portal. It glowed bright. As most of the crowd watched, perhaps awed that one of them would boldly walk through like that, Zarik stalked along the curved outer wall. His gait was like that he used in Quacia’s Shanty, when he didn’t want to be seen or noticed, simply another individual – part of the crowd.

With amber-pigmented irises in his eyes, he observed the gateways in surveying glances and appeared in active contemplation about whether he wanted to walk through one as well. His tears had all but dried. His prior nervousness vanished from the small window of his expression, though his lower face remained hidden behind his black leather facemask. He needed to focus. He didn’t have far to go. When he reached the next outer door, he paused. The light in Bear's portal faded and returned to normal. Number None announced that Bear had begun the Trial of the Wild.

Standing against the new doorframe, the tall biqaj folded his hands at his lower back. He waited a trill, then pressed his palm against the adjacent door. Zarik expected the same kind of Oak wood, and possibly the same things to discover, but perhaps there would be new names to find. If they were the same, then he would consider that the three he’d learned of might be the builders of the doors.

While his ether appraised the door, he let the other people in the group continue to talk – or wander forward into their Trials – without a word otherwise about what he’d discovered. He didn’t ask questions of Number None either. Completely silent, he concentrated on his identification of the second door – which, with his back against the outer wall, was positioned to his left from the first door that felt like death.

Speak Think
word count: 991

Etzos

The following visuals are not applicable in the Etzos territory during Ymiden: Gossamer Wings, Halo.

Eyes

Llyr's eyes are constantly changing based on a blend of his emotions.
When an emotion dominates, the pigment expands past his irises to the entire eye - faintly glowing in that emotion's color.
See Color References here.

Mutations

  • Gossamer wings resembling a cross between the wings of a dragonfly and a flying ant.
  • An iridescent halo that hovers over his head.
  • Crystalline legs from his toes to the mid of his thighs (like stockings made of quartz embedded into his skin).
  • An ever-moving inky tattoo, with Rorschach-like designs, on his back.

Scars

Llyr currently has 9 major scars, referenced on his CS.
Most noticeable is two parallel lines, with an triangular arrow point connecting them, on the center of his forehead.

Totems

When in a totem's body, Llyr's mutations persist but his scars do not.
User avatar
Cervantez
Approved Character
Posts: 452
Joined: Tue Jul 03, 2018 8:59 am
Race: Lotharro
Profession: Yari Runner/Mercenary/Assassin
Renown: +195
Character Sheet
Secrets
Plot Notes
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 4

Contribution

Re: The Pure

Tue Apr 09, 2019 4:17 am

☠ Ashan 30, 719, Possibly ☠
☠ Mood: Curious, Cautious
☠ Company: Many others
☠ Current Thought: What the hell is going on?
☠ Current Theme: Bury Me Low
☠ Attire: Masterwork Armor
"Common Speech"

"Xantheon Speech"
Image
Well the answers he was given only seemed to lead to more an more questions. Save who and What trials? Whatever the case was it was clear he was here for a purpose.

If there was one thing he didnt like, it was being drawn into something audacious or severe without knowing all the details of the situation. He looked to the three massive gateways at the end of the hallway finding them auspicious and daunting. Just where could those have led? He gathered from what Guardian None had said when the redhaired brute went through his door, that it led to some sort of trial.

What kind of trial awaited them? Where they all the same or where they tailored for each person present. Looking around he was trying to see if anyone else had a clue of what to do besides go through the door. He saw one such male and made his way toward him.

Looking the mage up and down, as he assumed all present in this room were mages, as his very core hummed with the swirls and motes of the portal as he passed by it. He could only make that educated guess in that everyone who were brought here was, in fact, all mages too.

Once within arm's reach, he extended a hand, removing his hat to reveal the flaming orbs and empty eye sockets. He extended the demonic hand as it sent waves of joy and happiness through the necromancer, letting him know that they were in a place where ether or emea ran free.

"The name is Cervantez, care to hazard a guess as to what this place is or what we are suppose to do besides the obvious?"

Image
word count: 354
Image
User avatar
Praetorum
Approved Character
Posts: 539
Joined: Sun Jan 20, 2019 11:08 am
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Mercenary
Renown: +255
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Plot Notes
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 4

Contribution

Milestones

Re: The Pure

Tue Apr 09, 2019 4:39 am





Image

????

Bizarre and confusing did not even begin to describe the events that were currently occurring. It chose you. To save Them, the creature— the golem, man, being, whatever, who had named himself Number None— said to them. Those lead to your Trials, it said, like that should mean anything to them. Looking around, Prae was at least reassured that everyone else seemed just as confused as he was. And it didn't seem like the creature was going to volunteer a clear explanation any time soon.

Right. That was fine. Number None hadn't stopped walking, so Prae followed after him, easily keeping pace. "Trials? Why are we being given trials?" 


None answered without ever slowing his pace. "To prove yourself truly worthy of your magic's full power." 


That drew a reaction from some of the people around him. To prove themselves worthy... all of them? But then, that would mean...

All of them here had magic? So, had only mages been summoned? It made sense, now that he thought about it. They'd had to feed ether to something to come here, something a normal person wouldn't have been able to do. And the only other person he knew here had very obvious witchmarks. Still, Prae wanted to make sure, just in case. 


Praetorum turned. "Do all of us here have magic?" He asked loudly, directing the question at the others. One had gone through, but that left a dozen people he was uncertain of. Then, a thought occurred to him. A little more hesitantly, he wondered out loud. "Do... all of us have different magic?" Unhooking his shield from his arm, Praetorum unhooked his left gauntlet, revealing to all the others the ring of hone runes around his wrist.

The  ring of hone runes currently spinning and flashing on his wrist. Oh bogs. Of course; None had said the magic word: "save". I'm working on it. He promised his spark mentally, trying to reassure it. The runes continued to flash, but something inside of Prae's chest eased a little, allowing him to return to the problem at hand. 


Perhaps only a mage, or fifteen could... could do what? Save... who? "Number None, who is it we've been summoned here to save? Who do you mean by Them?"

"The Eternals." He said, simply. 


Prae had no idea who those were, and didn't hesitate to tell None. But the response he got only brought up more questions.

"I am not able to say." 


Am not able to say, not that he didn't want to, or thought they shouldn't know. Someone was holding his tongue. Metaphorically. Why? Did he even know? Whatever it was, Prae had a feeling any more questions he asked along this vein would result in the same non-answer. 


"Who, or what is it that chose us to come?" Prae asked instead.

"The Eternals chose you."

Something about that, about the wording from before bothered Praetorum. But before he could really grasp the thought, there was an insistent tug in his chest; his hone spark, demanding that he go and help. Prae gritted his teeth, and asked his final question. 


"How do we save the Eternals?"

Was it just his imagination? Or had None paused a trill at that? "I don’t know, I assume by doing what they want of you."

Right. Whatever this was, it was beyond None's ability, or willingness, to reveal. Prae did not like this, not one bit. He still didn't know what, exactly, had summoned him, or whether he should save them at all. But the call of his spark was growing more and more insistent by the trill. 


Still, Praetorum waited, for as long as he could manage, trying to gather as much information as humanly possible. But in the end, his spark won out. Prae took a deep breath. Sometimes—


Sometimes what you needed was to just take a leap of faith. 


Damn it all. 


Straightening his spine, Praetorum put his gauntlets and shield back on, and marched up to the door calling out for his spark. He grit his teeth. 


And walked through.

word count: 711
Let's play 'What's Weird About Prae'

Head

  • A fiery rune shines under his right eye
  • A firey glow in the back of his mouth

Arms

  • A ring of blue runes floats over each of Prae's wrists
  • A silver shield marks the back of his right hand

Misc

  • His tail is about eight feet long, usually knotted around his waist
  • His body temperature is uncomfortably high

Surroundings

  • Wind gusts with every step he takes
  • The area around him is slightly more static-y than normal
User avatar
Aegis
Prophet of Old
Posts: 2417
Joined: Thu Jan 11, 2018 5:04 pm
Race: Prophet
Renown: 0
Secrets
Plot Notes
Templates
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

Staff

Re: The Pure

Tue Apr 09, 2019 6:40 pm

Image


Once more, Zarik sought information from a door. And once more, he found it. This time, two names were given. Sybil, child of Knowledge, supported by Time. Loque, child of Dragons, supported by Swamps. And once more, his name was placed into the minds of those two. The communication was once more opened up, and again, the drain on Zarik's ether began.

Meanwhile, the man that Cervantez approached turned, eyeing the Necromancer up and down. He looked at Cervantez's flames that had replaced his eyes, and he winked at the man. Both of the flames were snuffed out, and Cervantez went blind. "Shouldn't play with fire if you don't know what you're doing with it." The man had two fiery orbs floating about him, and after a brief moment, Cervantez's sight returned to him.

Sort of.

He could now see from the two flaming wisps floating about the Defier, but with the distance between them and the rotating, bouncing nature, it would be quite disorienting for the man. It was in that moment that Praetorum stepped through the portal that resonated with his spark. It flashed bright, then returned to normal. Number None continued his rounds, with a new announcement. "Praetorum, child of the Shield, has begun the Trial of the Weak."

The Defier sighed, flicking his fingers, returning Cervantez's eyes back to his skull. He shrugged, "Seems like the obvious is the only choice. For me that is." The man winked one more time at Cervantez, before summoning forth all four elements in various forms, swirling around his slight form and long, greasy hair. And then he stepped through his gate, and it flashed as well. And right on cue, came Number None.

"Hector, child of None, has begun the Trial of the Chaos."

Three had left. Twelve remained.
 ! Message from: Aegis1
Composition: Volantan Oak
Age: Well over 1000 Arcs
Durability: Stronger than steel and stone
Weak Points: None
Magical Ability: Highly resistant to divine, domain, spiritual, and other forces. Has a magical trigger attached. Feels like "souls"
 ! Message from: Aegis2
Praetorum has been exited from this thread. He is now in The Trial of the Weak

Zarik's action has affected those in The Door of Souls. Zarik may include anything he may wish to say to any of the members of the Door of the Souls. If so desired, you all may handle any back and forth through DMs/PMs/Gdocs as you see fit, and then include them in your posts.

I will post again on April 16th.

Image
word count: 436
User avatar
Llyr Llywelyn
Approved Character
Posts: 1064
Joined: Sat Feb 02, 2019 12:24 am
Race: Biqaj
Profession: Fairy Angel Ether Monster
Renown: +495
Character Sheet
Character Wiki
Plot Notes
Personal Journal
Templates
Letters
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 4

Re: The Pure

Wed Apr 10, 2019 5:16 pm

Image

Souls…
Zarik looked down at his hand, then at the door he’d touched. An interesting feeling, both abstract yet undeniable. He lingered. Names occurred in his mind yet again, though different names and only two:

Sybil, child of Knowledge, supported by Time.

Loque, child of Dragons, supported by Swamps.

Zarik lifted his hand off the door. He severed the connection as soon as their names had been exchanged. Considering how the people woven into the death-feeling door had reacted, he didn’t think whoever these names were… they would be any help to him. They weren't Alistair.

Two more doors remained unidentified, as well. Though he felt assured in his theory as to who the names in the doors were - trapped phantoms lost inside - his curiosity led him to discover for himself that Alistair was not among them. He walked along the outer wall. Zarik listened as an ithecal followed the gilded guardian, Number None, with a spattering of questions.

Along the way, he caught sight of another man stealing the fiery eyes of a mage - who Zarik almost considered might be Arlo, due to the hat he wore, but heard a different name mentioned: Cervantez.

The lizardman had reasonable questions, which Zarik listened to along with the exchange of answers. As he reached the next outer door… he passed it by to follow the ithecal’s investigation about them: the Eternals. Zarik’s ice-blue eyes narrowed. Number None’s answers were hardly satisfying, but then the ithecal didn’t ask the questions that bothered Zarik the most either. The scaly stranger seemed more concerned with the hone runes on his wrist and the straight-forward task at hand.

The blond biqaj stopped walking. He crossed his arms. He scoffed, the sound muffled by his mask, as he watched the ithecal depart through a gateway portal. Number None kept walking, even during the announcement. Zarik tapped his fingers against his bicep. He stood motionless, back against the outer wall, in a moment of thought.

Another of the group - Hector - left through a gateway, followed by the announcement. Zarik surveyed the corridor. The youthful man walked to the door set on the right of the Door of Death, across from the Door of Souls. He blatantly reached out, pressed the flat of his palm against the wood, then identified it like the others. Zarik closed his eyes for a trill, then as soon as he’d felt it and gathered the names, he released the connection. None of the names were the singular name he sought.

Zarik strode to the last outer door he’d yet to identify – across from the first-touched door – and he did the exact same procedure. This time, he felt certain the names had to be people who’d gotten mixed in with the wood upon creation of the structure. Perhaps their bones had gotten in the grain or their entire bodies or even their souls.

The initial shock and sorrow at the separation from his lover abated. Instead, Zarik felt frustrated. Confusion brewed in him. His spark still danced at the idea of entering the gateway obviously meant for him.

Despite the desire to pioneer forward, he also felt such a thing would be the easiest course of action. All it took was a few literal straight-forward steps through a portal. Zarik had gone through ruptured portals many times with Alistair already. He didn’t fear the gateway, however warily he considered it. Though he had no idea what could await him on the other side, it proved more challenging to remain and adapt to the corridor rather than flee through a potential exit. He looked at the only known source of such a disorienting situation: Number None.

Zarik weaved around a few of the other mages, ignored any attempts to converse, then fell into step right beside Number None. He didn’t say anything, but he surveyed the gilded humanoid. His irises warmed from the cold ice-blue of focus to the hue of his curiosity: amber. The youthful man folded his hands at his lower back and remained silent. He waited for a couple more people to step through their gateways while he followed alongside the guardian's circuit.

Once they had, after their announcements, he quickened his pace. He moved directly in front of Number None. Zarik walked backwards, staying in front of the gilded man now that he knew the speed of his gait well enough to do so. He stared at the inorganic eye sockets and then asked, “Can you see me?”

“Yes, of course,” answered Number None.

“Of course,” he repeated in monotone, the phrase muffled by his facemask. He skipped slightly, keeping in front of Number None. Zarik flipped his bangs to the side. Curious about a thought he’d had before while observing the ithecal’s escorted walk with the guardian, he asked, “How many circles around have you walked since you arrived?”

“4,204,817,625. Give or take.”

Zarik stepped to the side. He paused, watched as Number None walked past, then scratched the back of his head. So, he was keeping track, though. He hurried to backwards-walk in front of the guardian again, so he could look directly at him. “I-is that actually a number, Mister None? It’s so much! I don’t think I’ve ever heard a number as high as that before. Won’t you stop walking for a bit and talk with me?”

“I can’t stop walking. But I can talk.”

“Oh, why can’t you stop?” asked Zarik.

“I was created to do this and only this,” said None.

“I see,” murmured Zarik. He held a hand at his mask. His fingertips scratched at the leather lining in consideration to lower it. “Have you ever tried not to, though? Maybe you could if you tried. Unless… you do not have a mind of your own?”

“I... do not know how. But it is rather rude to say I don’t have a mind. I am one of the first minds, thank you very much.”

“S-sorry,” apologized Zarik. He hurried his steps with a skip since he’d slowed. “I don’t know much. I only wish to understand, but Mister None, you are- are- uhm… one of the first minds? Yet you don’t know how to simply stop walking?” As if to illustrate his point, Zarik took a step to the side and stopped walking entirely. He sighed and watched as the gilded guardian continued the path.

Here he stayed while Number None's circuit revolved around the corridor. He crossed his arms. In his wait, he glanced at the other people. There were fewer of them than when they'd arrived. He glanced at the fiery-eyed man, surveyed the markings of magic on him, then brought his attention back to the gilded guardian once None returned to the spot.

Zarik fell into stride with him again and said, “I want to say sorry again, Sir None. I didn’t mean to insult you before. Everything here seems so strange to me, and I don’t understand why… why any of it. It seems you’re only doing what you’re meant to do, and I’m sure you’re doing a fine job at it. So, sorry.”

"It is okay, you're a young Pure. Mistakes will be made."

The blond sighed. He adjusted his posture with his back straight, chest out, and hands folded behind him while they walked together. He asked, “If we were already chosen by… them, then why do we have to prove ourselves?”

Number None looked at Zarik with his 'eyes' locked onto the man, but his path remained unchanging, "So that you can become strong enough."

Zarik caught sight of the look, and he returned the 'gaze'. The irises of his eyes changed from the amber shade of curiosity to a topaz yellow pigment flecked with mossy green. He stared at None, silent. He allowed others to speak with the host without interruption, if they wished to. Eventually, he lowered his gaze to the floor. Zarik escorted the path, reticent in mood, until the pair completed a full circuit of relative quiet.

“Sir None, could I speak with the Eternals before my Trial?” he asked in a soft voice.

For the briefest of moments, Number None paused in his motion. Then he continued again, "I don't think that is possible."

“Oh…” Zarik noticed the pause in their walk, as he paused as well, then followed alongside the guardian as they continued. He gently inquired, “Are you able to speak with them?”

"I've tried. Sometimes I can hear them. But it isn't like it used to be, from before. Their voices are lost. All mixed up. It used to just be one voice, strong and true."

Zarik considered the other man’s words for a few steps. He ran a hand over his forehead, then rubbed his thumb against his temple. He said in a rhetorical tone, “They used to be one? None… Do you know who created you? Was it them?”

And while no change came over his physical face, it could be felt that Number None was smiling, "Yes, they were perfect as one, as all things are. And yes, they created me, when they were one. I remember the exact moment I existed for the first time. My most special memory."

Zarik felt None’s smile and it caused the biqaj to also smile. His lips couldn’t be seen as the expression hid beneath his black leather facemask, but it showed in the affable shape of his sunlit-colored eyes. “Will you share such a memory with me? I-if you wanted to wait until the others are in their Trials… or now. I’d like to hear.”

Number None didn't stop walking, but he did extend a hand. "Bridge us with your pure magic, and I can."

Zarik looked at the hand. He hesitated, though he remained walking apace with None. The young mage said, “Bridge? I don’t know how…”

He took a short breath, then nodded. His curiosity, the sincerity of his interest, led the Transmuter. He placed his gloved hand to hold the guardian’s hand as he assumed that was what None had intended. A light amount of ether flowed from his palm, into None, repeating the procedure he used for identity to do so. “Like this?”


Speak Think
word count: 1777

Etzos

The following visuals are not applicable in the Etzos territory during Ymiden: Gossamer Wings, Halo.

Eyes

Llyr's eyes are constantly changing based on a blend of his emotions.
When an emotion dominates, the pigment expands past his irises to the entire eye - faintly glowing in that emotion's color.
See Color References here.

Mutations

  • Gossamer wings resembling a cross between the wings of a dragonfly and a flying ant.
  • An iridescent halo that hovers over his head.
  • Crystalline legs from his toes to the mid of his thighs (like stockings made of quartz embedded into his skin).
  • An ever-moving inky tattoo, with Rorschach-like designs, on his back.

Scars

Llyr currently has 9 major scars, referenced on his CS.
Most noticeable is two parallel lines, with an triangular arrow point connecting them, on the center of his forehead.

Totems

When in a totem's body, Llyr's mutations persist but his scars do not.
Post Reply

Return to “Parts Unknown”