Difference between revisions of "Unti Family/Nerta/A3S4"
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+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Dancer Rea | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=With a turned up nose, the Duke followed his lady, hand on standard Thalmarkin-issue calvary sword. He'd left his pack with the carriage, and he felt naked without it....but walking around Keffa with a bag of daemon worship seemed like a bad idea. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he looked to the twin pillars of light in the sky. These Obeahains did not know what they were messing with, nor did those assembled. The Veil between worlds was thin, and he could feel it fluctuating wildly across his very skin. By Akkan, this was the closest anyone had gotten in the last- | ||
+ | |||
+ | His musings were cut short by none other then Duncan drunkenly staggering up to him. Without a word, Dancer smacked the boy across his chin, before leaning down to hiss in his ear. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Keep to the shadows, fool. Don't you understand the danger we are in?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Dancer pushed the unfortunate drunkard back to the ground, before sauntering away. Damn foolish boy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | In a matter of minutes, Anyte and Dan reached the square, bustling with people....and reeking of blood. Dancer held his seethed sword in white knuckles, magic bristling up and down his skin, and looked to Anyte for guidance. | ||
+ | |Title=Duke of the Northeast Wind, Baron of Jedinchel | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Alice Schwarzherzig | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Alice and the Morgul Guard arrived in Keffa atop black destriers. The Morgul guard wore identical garb, not showing one shred of flesh, clad in the charcoal colored armor of their order, their great helms unnerving to passerby. Alice dressed similarly, save she wore a hood instead of a helm, and the mediocre Coat of Tyranny adorned her torso. Silently they road through the streets of Keffa, the banner of Carn Dum held high, the ambassador's seal clearing any challenge made. | ||
+ | |||
+ | They rode towards the light, towards the palace, and the temple. A crowd had gathered in the main square, and the presence of Obian troops, and troops from the Vale marked Alice's destination. They approached silently, and halted before the assembled troops. Without a word, they dismounted as one. Alice made a few simple gestures, and the Morgul guard fanned out, sporting greatbows carved from ebony. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Alice approached, lowering her hood, the guards parting upon seeing the medallion she wore about her neck. Alice looked upon Saoirse and Jecht, and offered a bow, her right arm outstretched, palm to the ground, and her left arm behind her back. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Your eminence, your Imperial Majesty. I am Carn Dum, and in this instance, I am proud to say, I am Irondale." | ||
+ | |Title=Ambassador of Irondale, Duchess of Carn Dum | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Jheda Orobar | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content="My Lord, we just confirmed Queen Bae, Duchess Anyte and Duke Dancer arrived in the city. They seem to be making their way to the Temple Square. You should know it's very crowded there, the air thick with tension and barely controlled violence. All that's needed is for someone to light the fuse and the situation will explode." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Jheda was looking at a strange catch phrase, 'IT IS COMING ', painted on the statue of a man holding his lance in a rather suggestive way. This piece of modern art was intriguing to say the least. He would have to track down the artist. Unger could use a fresh touch. | ||
+ | |||
+ | When the scout finished his report, Jheda turned around to face him. "Thank you. Let me know if someone else of interest arrives. And try to find out if we can get closer to these magic pilars." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Not much later, way in front of him, Jheda spotted Anyte and Dancer. The Queen was probably somewhere close. Jheda ordered his men to silently secure a perimeter around them and to be ready to intervene when necessary. He himself would shadow them more closely. They would no doubt sense his presence, and call for him if he was needed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Jheda watched them go and started laughing. A Lady taking her puppy for a walk. Some things never changed. | ||
+ | |Title=Margrave of Unger | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | colspan=5| '''Light Show Slows''' | ||
+ | message to everyone in the vicinity of Keffa - 17 hours, 28 minutes ago | ||
+ | Crackling energy sparked as Moira's individual stones approached the light before being set in a circle upon the temple dome. The moment the circle was completed was the moment Gustav stepped into the Light below. | ||
+ | |||
+ | And in that moment, bold agyrian gold shot up the column of light from the dome upward, the transitioning lights below unphased. The golden hue flooded the clouds and rained light-shards upon the city. Those struck seemed suddenly more content with life. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Then the whole column again filled with a colour, this time from the base of the temple, a dark vordulian crimson. And again filled the clouds and rained light-shards upon the city. Those struck seemed suddenly more ambitious in life. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The column was left rotating between the previous yellow, red, black, green. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Within the temple, Gustav walked into the Light under the mistaken belief it held an open portal, so strong his conviction he nearly willed it so. But mortal will is never enough alone. And so he stepped into the Light. And stepped out of the Light a moment later, his flesh melting, even his bones melting into a goop, the momentum of his stepping into the light flinging Gustav Goop across a third of the room and it's unfortunate priestly inhabitants, just as the column of light filled with dark vordulian crimson. | ||
+ | |||
+ | After the second set of stones were set upon the temple roof, the rotating lights slowed. Not noticed immediately, but after careful timing by scholars, they concluded the lights now lasted 21 minutes each, rather than 15. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Elsewhere, the spilt blood of the vordul ritualists in the square seemed to give off its own light. | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Polli | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Polli had ignored the chaos around her as she had before the first attempted | ||
+ | ritual had been ruined by the agent stepping upon the chalk. This time, the ritualwork by her and Godfrey Greybrook seemed to be having a stronger effect, even as Emilia's soldiers were engaged in a Herculean, against all odds, effort of defending the ritual. In ignoring the surrounding chaos, Polli's life was on the line, and she just didn't seem to care, so intense was here single-minded focus upon the ritual. | ||
+ | |||
+ | But when the Grandmistress spoke, Polli finally reacted, "The Pillar is the Eternal Emperor's affair." | ||
+ | |Title=Adventurer | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Avice | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Imperator Arjan de Zueww of the Shattered Vales, | ||
+ | |||
+ | No portal has been opened. | ||
+ | |||
+ | For Nova, | ||
+ | |Title=Adventurer | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Arjan de Zueww | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Maybe the portal isn't open Avice but something tells me there's still danger around the corner. Stay sharp and keep your weapons to hand! | ||
+ | |Title=Imperator of Shattered Vales | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Yao Ling Pryde | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=The column of light glowed golden and Yao Ling saw the magic change as golden shards of light rained down from the clouds. One of them pierced her robes, her skin, and what seemed like it had to be her soul. The peace and contentment she had been trying to project over the city filled her more completely than she had felt in... she could not remember. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Whoa," she whispered, just in time to watch the column shift colors again. Deep red this time it was, and it filled the clouds with the whiff of a kind of magic she had not seen in a very long time. There was blood in this, but she could not feel any concern over that fact. A detached part of her mind knew there should be a reason to worry about it, but she was feeling so... content right now. All the world was good and right, and things would work out. Then the red shards of light rained down and Yao Ling saw one hit Betty. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The younger woman blossomed in that moment, suddenly seeming more alive and vibrant than ever before. Yao Ling remembered her father standing on the battlements of Creasur so long ago, with just that look of determination. It was good to see that spark return to this world. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Then Yao Ling turned back to the square and looked towards the Obian temple with the sense that a time had come. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I think it is time we meet our friends over there," Yao Ling whispered in a contented tone. "Could you see if that could be arranged?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I shall arrange it, Mistress," Betty said and charged off the wall like she was the living impersonation of a bull. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Oh yes. It was so good to have that back. Life was... good. | ||
+ | |Title=Sophos of Nothoi | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=5| '''Magic In The Air''' | ||
+ | The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Godfrey Greybrook | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content= | ||
+ | As Godfrey focussed on the goblet and poured his will unto it, the lights in sky flickered and changed to a dark Vordul crimson. Resting on his knees in his prayer position, Godfrey's eyes closed and pressed two fingers to his blood oath scar. | ||
+ | |||
+ | This is the sign from the Eternal Emperor the faith needed, blood magic is the strongest of all magic. For it is sacred, especially those whom have embraced the oath. Progress cannot come without pain and sacrifice. Yet, there was little remorse for the death that must of occurred. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Prophet knew of Gustav's resolve but also potential teachings and understandings to defer from the theocratic truth. Yet, the Duke knew he was loyal to the Eternal Emperor's vision, regardless of his interpretation. Thus, he gave a small obituary to himself: | ||
+ | |||
+ | "May the lord rest his mortal concerns and fight alongside our champion, for his soul was tortured but he followed the Eternal Emperor's footsteps, carrying pain and suffering that we all must learn from, for humanity can only be saved through hardship. In Sacred Blood." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Stepping up from his position and gathering his items, he did not expect the events to turn in such a way. Yet, these signs cannot be doubted. Has the Eternal Emperor chosen Poli as his champion? Yet, she is not noble... What does that mean? She bares his word without knowing it's significance. Does Xlair summon her to the other side? | ||
+ | |||
+ | Whatever the cause, her destiny must not be intercepted as he strode to Poli's side with his ritual dagger unsheathed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Poli, your arrival here is a sign that the Eternal Emperor wishes to usher change. You must be inducted to the faith, offer your wrist to me and repeat after me. From here, I will see your destiny through as his prophet: | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | "From this day forward, | ||
+ | I am Sworn to the Eternal Emperor. | ||
+ | As it has been given, it can be taken, by his word. | ||
+ | Through him I shall have power. | ||
+ | Through him I shall have immortality. | ||
+ | Through him, and only him, shall I have absolution. | ||
+ | For now, and forever. | ||
+ | |||
+ | So do I swear, In Blood Eternal." | ||
+ | |Title=Ambassador of Vordul Sanguinis, Duke of Vordul Sanguinis | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Kristina Chamberlain | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=She looked down at the large laundry skip now housing the remnants of Gustav Kuriga, though she imagined they would be finding bits of him for the weeks and months to come. It felt somewhat disrespectful that anyone should end up in such a vessel, but here he was. Her irritation returned hot on the heels of her brimming concern. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Time was a concept of which she often felt there was either too much or too little... something she was always far too aware of, but even more so the days since the ritual had begun... she at once wished it was over but, sensing the taints of corruption that may be little more than guilt or paranoia, she bore the vain hope that it would never reesolve and simply be... or not be. And now Yxevarii was, in the midst of this chaos, arranging a magisterium with the likes of Yao Ling Pryde... she remembered the woman well enough as one of the chief supporters and advisors of her brother, a wise enough soul, but Daishi to her iron core. The situation was well beyond such interventions, a magisterium had a place before a single spell was cast, not as they now bore witness to the fruits of their labours. | ||
+ | |||
+ | How long did it take to get the pipers to the chamber... how long before some other desperate fool did something to corrupt the equilibrium of the column... an equilibrium that perhaps Moira of all people could help her control, or at least understand. | ||
+ | |||
+ | She motioned the Templar forward: "Escort.... ah.... his Grace from the chamber. Then find the Grand Templar, let him know what has happened and what needs to happen moving forward." The man looked a little blank. "The ladies Avice, Viviene and Dolores need to be brought to the ritual chamber, along with as many of the eight as can be found. Keffa is heading for utter chaos and we need to control and consolidate as soon as soon and as best we can." | ||
+ | |||
+ | She resisted the urge to go back to pacing, trying not to look at the pulsating column, instead her eyes found Moira again. "Its not a portal Moira, well not in the strictest terms anyway... it is a combination of faith, scrollwork and portal magic. The gold of the core is primal... but such a combinations puts me more in mind of the Flow.... help me Moira, help me to see it so that we gave a chance, however slim to balance it." | ||
+ | |Title=Baroness of Zwering, Priestess of Obeah | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=5| '''Magic In The Air''' | ||
+ | The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Emilia Delamoire | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Lady Emilia stood within the circle of Shadow's Blight archers which protected Godfrey and Polli as they focused on their ritual. Seeing the sigils on the ground begin to glow as the magic in the air increased Emilia got down to all knees, hoping that her circle will hold. | ||
+ | |||
+ | She listened closely to Godfrey as he spoke to Polli, though she took out her own left arm and repeated the words herself, not having yet made such an Oath and feeling that any effort could only help. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "From this day forward, | ||
+ | I am Sworn to the Eternal Emperor. | ||
+ | As it has been given, it can be taken, by his word. | ||
+ | Through him I shall have power. | ||
+ | Through him I shall have immortality. | ||
+ | Through him, and only him, shall I have absolution. | ||
+ | For now, and forever. | ||
+ | |||
+ | So do I swear, In Blood Eternal." | ||
+ | |||
+ | She pulled the dagger from her boot and dragged the "X" across her left forearm, blood dripping down her wrist as she offered her arm forward, unsure if she should bleed into the cup, or onto the ritual. | ||
+ | |||
+ | While doing so she closed her eyes for just a moment, to feel the power of the magic in the square, and emanating from Polli and the ritual circle itself. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "So this is what his power feels like." she thought to herself, previously only knowing of Vordulism on paper, and never before in her heart or soul. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "..Through him I shall have power, through him I shall have immortality.." she kept whispering over and over under her breath, trying to connect the feeling in her arm with the power singing through the square and all around Keffa. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "through him, and only him, shall I have absolution. For now.. and forever. So do I swear, In Blood Eternal." | ||
+ | |||
+ | She rose back up with renewed vigor, and stepped back out between the tall bodies of the Shadow's Blight, reaching down and picking up her short sword, and stood with defiance before Saoirse and the armies of Keffa. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You shall not interrupt this, Grand Mistress, I feel now more than ever that the Gods have spoken." she pointed to the Crimson pillar of light. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Our Emperor has come, if not in body, then in Spirit. And I will not fail Him." Emilia declared, her dagger in her left hand which still bled from her blood offering, with the short sword in her right. | ||
+ | |Title=Dame of Pel Mark | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Moira | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Moira pressed her eyelids tight in hopes it would still the jarring superposition of physical and spiritual realities, and to some extent it did. However if anything the unfiltered etheric light of the slowly rotating columns was even more overpowering, drowning the feint candles of thought marking the gathered priests and templars. Only Kristina continued to burn bright and fierce, an incandescent body of liquid energy housing an ashen heart of long-since consumed power, pulsing gently in sympathy with the colour changes of the twin columns of light. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "This is a new thing," her voice was soft in her ears though she could have sworn she was screaming, barely able to speak above the discordant roar of the turbulent flow, "a dangerous thing." | ||
+ | |||
+ | The adventurer moved closer to the failed portal. Failed? How else could she describe it? The purpose of a portal was to move between realities, not to fold the immaterium in upon itself. She placed her hands against its surface, careful not to let them cross the barrier, and as she did she could swear she saw shapes moving within the golden centre, writhing and calling her name in sibilant whispers. | ||
+ | |||
+ | She stepped back, opening her eyes and was immediately hit by the discongruence of the two realities, staggering momentarily before drawing herself back up to her full height. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Tell me Priestess, what is the precise purpose of this... this..." she wanted to say abomination but she doubted that would go down well with her hosts, "construct? It's not at all like those I encountered in Gethsemene or Iknopata." | ||
+ | |Title=Commoner of Ar Agyr | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Timsen Quasath | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=The pillar of light changed and flashed its colours, ominously displaying crimson blood before going back to its 'regular' rotation. Overhearing cries of shock and curiosity, Timsen noticed the followers of Vordulism cutting into themselves and chanting to their Blood Emperor. Timsen shook his head in disgust and shame, didn't they realize he was just a man, a man who died and that was that. Timsen was torn between charging over and disrupting their blood magic and continuing his vigilance. Blood magic, ugh. Too many memories of daimons frolicking in mortal liquids tainted his view of any magic dealing with such fluids. Whatever may come through a blood ritual will certainly not be human. | ||
+ | |||
+ | So, Timsen maintained his focus on the coloured Light, his faith and duty to protect humanity holding him true. | ||
+ | |Title=Duke of Providence, Margrave of Vozzessdor | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=5| '''Magic In The Air''' | ||
+ | The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=5| '''Magic In The Air''' | ||
+ | The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=5| '''Magic In The Air''' | ||
+ | The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Kristina Chamberlain | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=She was almost embarrassed by the question, scanning the room she took note that the acolytes gave her a wide berth and the Templars were studious in avoiding her gaze.... no matter, what needed to be said was only for Moira. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "We follow the Mother of Magic.... but the uncommon commoners have a greater grasp and proficiency in the actual creation of magic than some of even the most experienced priests. Even I rely in part on the teachings of the 8 from the tomes of the Dagda Witch Solaria of Obsidia... The Grandmistress had visions of a ritual through which a teacher could be summoned who would enable us to unlock the secrets of the ancient Magi." | ||
+ | |||
+ | As the column changed colour again a spasm of the spindled prime fire she carried quickened her breath, aching to join the flow. "The scrolls used represented aspects of intent.... summoning, restoration, teleportation and rejuvenation... the power and the purpose.... all are here but I have a feeling that something is missing.... rather than being a portal to bring something forth, it feels like there is a void that seeks to draw things in.... spells cast are being devoured as quickly as the runes rise from the page... animals and people all are drawn forth, and as it grows I can feel the emergence of the preternatural, a rushing darkness drawn to our holiest light..." | ||
+ | |||
+ | She walked the circle for the hundredth... thousandth... time. "What do you see Moira? I would discharge every ounce of what I am holding if I thought it would resolve the, well the strangeness that I feel, but something tells me this would be the wrong course of action, though something clearly is required." | ||
+ | |Title=Baroness of Zwering, Priestess of Obeah | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | colspan=5 | '''Training Match''' | ||
+ | Godfrey Greybrook, Ambassador of Vordul Sanguinis, Duke of Vordul Sanguinis, Priest of Vordulism meets his challenger Vahanian Blint, Grand Templar of Obia'Syela, Duke of Amen Keffa, Margrave of Keffa, Marshal of the Holy Reclaimers for the agreed training match. | ||
+ | Vahanian has decided to use the 'overrun' strategy while Godfrey has chosen the 'defensive' strategy, giving Godfrey the advantage. | ||
+ | After a series of blows, Vahanian wins the training match. | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |colspan=5 | '''Training Match''' | ||
+ | message to everyone in Keffa - 7 hours, 20 minutes ago | ||
+ | Lambert of Arescod, Margrave of Lastfell meets his challenger Geralt Admyr, Knight of Unger for the agreed training match. | ||
+ | Geralt has decided to use the 'defensive' strategy while Lambert has chosen the 'neutral' strategy, giving Lambert the advantage. | ||
+ | After a series of blows, Lambert wins the training match. | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Siclica Wolfvern | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=We only arrived her 3 hours ago and this city is nothing like I imagined and its more frantic than I realized. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A man of a were and robes in wear for combats approaches me. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Lady Siclica its good to see you again, now come hurry your friends are into some" Shaking hands briefly I smile and order the men. To follow the man leading me. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "If what the letters he sent me and Emilia is true we'll need to from a line infront of her archers or form into rows 10 deep if that won't he possible to get to them. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Moments pass till I hear the voices of my allies as they make their oaths. Emilia can seen marking herself with the X upon her body. With the Grand Mistress and Calvary treating to assault. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Men form up into Rows they are to far. 43 men Push their way through the crowd upon seeing the ongoing event. Forming a tight square immediately behind the Grand Mistress men. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "GRAND MISTRESS PLEASE STEP DOWN NO NEED FOR EXCESS BLOOD TO BE SPLILED THIS DAY WHEN!! yelling so loudly it bounces off thee walls and alleyways blocks away. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Leave my people alone they simply. Do what they believe is best. Sir Polli, Dame Emilia, and lord Godfrey are not here to cause harm." Beckoning to the Grand Mistress." Let them finish their affairs. We all came to see what is going on in the city of Kefka. Do not charge them for their way of doing things is different than yours." | ||
+ | |Title=Dame of Ippetimbal | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Emilia Delamoire | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Emilia looks over and sees Siclica emerge to support her, deepening the number of troops surrounding Polli and Godfrey as they continue the ritual, and her face slips into a momentary lapse of relief. Thank the Emperor that another has the nerve to face the Obian forces, and of course it's another woman, while the Vordulian men are no where to be seen. | ||
+ | |||
+ | She looks back toward the Grand Mistress and her troops, the deep green eyes ablaze with passion and purpose. Her small 5'5" frame wrapped in woven black leather with red leather accents at her ribs and thighs to accent her petite frame. Her long platinum blonde hair laid over her shoulders as a few strands of her bangs fall forward to rest against high cheek bones. In her left hand she holds a dagger, her hand covered in blood which still seeps from the self inflicted wound on her forearm for her Blood Oath, in her right a short sword. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I've never been so happy to see another person in my life." she whispered to her new companion Siclica as they stood between the full armed forces of the Obian army and the mad woman that led them here that now performed some ritual behind them. A ritual, which by the looks of it, was actually working. | ||
+ | |||
+ | What working meant, the gods only knew. What mattered now, was making sure it completed so that at least all of this was for something. Lady Emilia was as hungry for power as a glutton on a diet was hungry for sustenance. And now she felt power, and she'd be damned if it was going to slip out of her grasp just because...well... only 400 armed Obian soldiers wanted her to. | ||
+ | |||
+ | So there she stood, as defiant as ever, looking as though if she herself thought she was 10' tall and armed to the teeth, just compacted into a 17 year old girl with a hell of a lot of courage... or stupidity. | ||
+ | |Title=Dame of Pel Mark | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Moira | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content="I hunt daemons and their ilk M'Lady, so I know something of portals and the worlds beyond..." though the least said of that the better as far as Moira was concerned. A decade of life had passed here in the mortal realm whilst she and Reia tracked that monster Kerreth-Torg through halls of his masters in the Netherworld. A decade in which they'd seen sights beyond the imaginings of the most drug-addled libertine, their throats parched by bitter waters, their stomachs hungering on strange flesh, "but this is... is... beyond my experience." | ||
+ | |||
+ | She put her hand to her mouth and rubbed her chin, lost for a moment in thought, racking her memory for some fragment of ancient lore. Solaria of Obsidia... the name was unfamiliar but for no apparent reason it brought to mind a strange tale she'd heard from a prisoner on the Glinmar Raid concerning the death of the White Tree. At first she'd thought it a Rancaguan legend, part of the cultic myth cycle of Ora, but on later investigation she traced it to the Isles and the secretive sorcerers of the Dagda. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The Dagda Witch? You mean the words of the Mother?" she turned to Kristina, studying her intently, "That is primitive magic indeed. Was that how Obeah erected her veil? Did she call upon the Dagda of the White Tree? Did she call upon Ora?" | ||
+ | |Title=Commoner of Ar Agyr | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Vahanian Blint | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Vahanian looked across the square at those assembled, they'd been standing around for what felt like days. The crowd was growing ever larger as more people filed into his city. Vahanian reached his limit. He'd had enough waiting. "To hell with this." He muttered and he dismounted from his horse and shouldered his way through the line of Obian soldiers. "Oh Son of a bit-" the swear of Baldwin, Vahanian's captain of the guard, was drowned out by the thudding in Vahanian's ears. He muscled his way into the center of the square. His soldiers streaming after him, both equally excited at the prospect of combat, and worried that Vahanian was about to do something horrendously reckless and dangerous. Vahanian headed directly towards the group of Vordul soldiers guarding the ritual. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Move aside." Vahanian said, his voice dripping with a calm fury and controlled lethality. As he approached threshold of Vordul blood magic, his arm seared in pain. It felt like he was reaching into the depths of hell's core and trying to return unscathed. No physical representation of the burning pain was on his arm, but in his head, it felt like he'd just been thrown into lava. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Vahanian glowered at the force rallied against him as he saw and then proceed to call upon the one he once called ally. The defiler. "You'll do." he said, the challenge in his voice clear. He spit in front of the Vordul forces and declared: "Godfrey Greybrook! You're a disgrace to the Greybrook name. Ferdinand was twice the man you could ever dream of being. You're a cancerous filth that needs to be purged from this world." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Godfrey rushed stepped foreward, placing himself directly in Vahanian's path and between the duke and Poli, his eyes darting between the approaching Vahanian and the edge of the circle, clearly wondering what effect an interruption could have on the ritual. He gripped his ritual dagger tightly and stepped forward barring entry to the ritual circle and placing himself between Vahanian and Poli. Vahanian snorted as he paced back and forth across from the priest. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Hatred of his own, poured from Godfrey's body language. The animosity in the air was almost as palpable as the magic that fluttered around the square. He accepted the challenge. | ||
+ | |||
+ | For someone of his age, Vahanian moved with surprising speed and agility. He launched forward, like a panther pouncing on it's prey, and struck with the ferocity of a wolf bringing down a kill. Godfrey brought his dagger up just in time to prevent himself from being decapitated. Vahanian was relentless in his attacks, toying with Godfrey, striking hard and fast, but drawing out the panic in his opponent. He seemed to relish the fear in Godfrey's eyes. The fear and realization that he might not live to see this ritual complete. That his work thus far would be for naught. To the priest's credit, he held his ground. He defended as best he could, clearly having had some training with the sword, but his technique was lacking. The life of a priest often led to a lackluster skill with the sword. | ||
+ | |||
+ | All things must end, and so to did the brief bout. Vahanian parried inside of Godfrey's excuse for a guard, he battered the dagger out of Godfrey's grasp, sending it skittering across the square towards the ritual circle. Vahanian slammed the pommel of his sword into Godfrey's temple, dazing him as he grabbed the lapel of his robes and swept his feet from under him. Landing with his knee on the priest's chest and his blade pressed against Godfrey's throat, he looked into the eyes of a heathen with pure, unadulterated hatred | ||
+ | |||
+ | With an almost euphoria in his eyes, Godfrey began leaning into to sword, teasing the blade to cut the skin on his, almost begging through gasps "Do it old man… Kill me… Do my cousin proud… Everything you have loved has died… All for your bitch Obeah… Do it!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Vahanian was just about to end the priest's life when he heard Kethan's voice calmly say "Vahanian.. don't. It's a blood ritual." Vahanian looked over and saw the Inquisitor, one of his oldest friends, standing there, looking as if he'd spent the last 6 weeks constantly awake, with his face burried in tomes. He was passively watching the events with a scholar's eye. Vahanian stayed his blade, but gave the opportunity for Godfrey to react. As he got up suddenly, Godfrey pressed his ear against the sharp weapon and like an animal saw his ear removed from his head in an attempt to escape. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Reacting instantly on instinct and to the horror, Vahanian grabbed Godfrey by the throat, squeezing, he pressed Godfrey's head into the stone street and stared down at the priest with utter hatred before he whispered. "I'll be seeing you again." He stood, and released Godfrey in one swift motion, wathcing Godfrey as he scampered off to collect the remnants of his ear as blood poured unto the stone below. Vahanian, sheathing his sword and returning to his horse, muttered to Kethan. "This needs to end." | ||
+ | |Title=Grand Templar of Obia'Syela, Duke of Amen Keffa, Margrave of Keffa | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Godfrey Greybrook | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Reeling on a high of adrenaline, the Prophet cradled his ear as he returned to Poli's side and proclaimed: | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I must look for your forgiveness, I lost myself in the taunts of rage where humans fall short to our worst part of ourselves. I will continue supporting this ritual and as part of it, I offer in addition to my own blood, a part of me." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Placing down the goblet and the ritual knife, Godfrey placed his ear into the goblet and placed it before the woman next to him to conduct the next blood ritual. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Cut by an evil man, may my body be a vessel to bring good." | ||
+ | |Title=Ambassador of Vordul Sanguinis, Duke of Vordul Sanguinis,Priest of Vordulism | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Emilia Delamoire | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Emilia was staring defiantly at Vahanian Blint as he shouted at them in all his bravado, though she was caught by surprise when Godfrey pushed past the Shadow's Blight and her to face the warrior on his own. She kept her eyes mostly fixated on the Grand Mistress and her troops, but caught glimpses of the battle which quickly turned south for the Priest of Vordulism. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As Godfrey was let up, Emilia leaned forward and helped Godfrey get back to his feet and ushered him back behind her to the ritual circle. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I see you are capable at beating up priests, will your next victory be against a little girl?" Emilia taunted Vahanian. | ||
+ | |||
+ | She twirled her short sword in hand and prepared to give the order to have the square filled with the black shafted arrows of Shadow's Blight. They could run at her all they wanted, but the first wave would assuredly go down with her. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Or maybe I should find you a dog to kick. Wouldn't want you to lose any pride after such a stunning victory." Lady Emilia continued | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Shadow's Blight! Be sure to record the battle of the great warrior Vahanian, he who beat up a priest in the streets of Keffa!" She declared, to which her troops chuckled nervously. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Now, on a more serious note.. is your god called Obey because that's all you're capable of doing?" She asked with an inquisitive smirk. | ||
+ | |Title=Dame of Pel Mark | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Jacinda steps up behind the strange man, probably intent to show him off, but Nerta raises a hand, “You mean someone tried to walk into the circle and nothing walked back out wearing them?” Nerta meets Wren’s gaze, “Then it can’t be a portal, but what is….” | ||
+ | |||
+ | Cut off by the pulse of light that colours the clouds to molten gold, the four watch as darts of magic rain down. As the gold and crimson strike fine Keffan stone they spark like bits of metal hammered by a smith. But not all strike stone. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Nerta staggers under the shower of liquid emotion as vertigo sees her grabbing hold of Jacinda to keep from teetering over. “It’s getting worse, come on. You too stranger, I’ll make introductions on the way.” | ||
+ | |Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Valian Stone Daubeny | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Valian kicked down the door to the coffeehouse, he found Elizabeth resting almost peacefully cuddled up to an elk. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Valian smiled and then looked to Viviane “Viviane, me and my men are here to give to you that escort now, I will carry Elizabeth and bring you to the Temple.” | ||
+ | |Title=Knight of Ossmat | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Duncan Blackstone | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Duncan was slapped and pushed to the ground, he landed hard and looked up at Dancer shocked and then his face twisted into a snarl “Yes, Master Rea.” Duncan growled out his words as he stood and retreated into the shadows of the buildings. | ||
+ | |Title=Commoner of Thalmarkin | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Siclica Wolfvern | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Watching the blows between Godfrey had sustained and the eager Emilia now stand to challenge the Duke. Siclica was bewildered "When did allies fight eacho other, what is this town doing to people?". Axel observed quiet taking in everything and whispered "Commander this would be a good time to slip through while the people are distracted watch the events." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Siclica nodded and pressed forward through the soldiers watching trying not to alarm them as she passed. " My God the blood that has happened" Astonish from the bliwsbetween the Duke and Godfrey in and Emilia's own self marking fir power. | ||
+ | |||
+ | She looks over to the Priest examining him for fatal wound and sees known. A sigh of relief she feels for a moment. Looking the other way Emilia is posed ready and provoking the Duke. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I do not agree with what you are doing Emilia. You do all this for power but, you've lost yourself in its path for it. I won't get in your way what you do is gods will. I will watch over Polli and Godfrey." She then beckons her men to come through the crowd to line up in front of the archers. "Shields up and spears at attention." Commanded. "Axel keep a watchful eye. I don't want none of us to die here but I can't also just let our people be ran over". | ||
+ | |||
+ | Lastly Siclica moves over to Polli "I hope whatever your doing works and comes to a peaceful end. Blood rituals arr not something I deal with personally but if you or Godfrey needs me to drew from you what you request then so be it." | ||
+ | |Title=Dame of Ippetimbal | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Jecht Tideweaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Jecht met the woman on the black destrier's gaze and recognition flashed in eyes. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Greetings, that makes you Duchess Alice of Carn Dum then does it not? Sadly my recent visit to Firbalt was but an overnight stay as urgent business called me away before we were able to properly meet." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Alice gave a slight nod in affirmation. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It is good to finally put a face to a name." Jecht put a fist to chest. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "You come at an interesting time. We have pipers to aid in rituals to finish the summoning of "it". A sacred thing and massive work of magic. I invite you to work WITH us to bring it to fruition. I suggest seeking your piper, Bernard I believe? and making your way to an available square to begin. I am sure he can provide you with more information that what I can as of now. In fact, I am heading off to meet with my own piper now, and to ensure she is brought to no harm. While I have plans to dine with the Grandmistress tonight, and with the Hierophant on the morrow, perhaps the opportunity for us to share a meal will arise somewhere in between." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Jecht paused and awaited Duchess Alice's reply. | ||
+ | |Title=Emperor of Shattered Vales | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Jacht Tideweaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content= | ||
+ | Jecht was still standing by Dolores as she continued to sing her sad song. Her shrine was heavily defended and no commoner or noble passed through this particular square without the Emperor of the Shattered Vales or his hosts approval. | ||
+ | |||
+ | He patiently continued waiting for Dolores to call upon his assistance. He was prepared to do what was needed to complete the ritual. Need he cast magic? Need he sacrifice a artifact of great power? Need he draw his royal blood to strengthen it? Need he sing this sad sad song? For the sake of those present he prayed to the veiled goddess he did not have to sing, but was willing to do any of these things to aid Dolores and ensure his part in this ritual was played. For the Vales, for the Heralds, for his allies, for himself, and for Saoirse. | ||
+ | |||
+ | He continued to wait. | ||
+ | |Title=Emperor of Shattered Vales | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Alice Schwarzherzig | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=Alice nodded. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It is the intent of the Republic to aid both your own forces, and the Grandmistress's in this endeavor, your Majesty." Alice spoke, matter of factly, but hints of warmth could be found in her voice. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The Heirophant, I am informed will be arriving come sunrise. We have made our own preperations for contributing. I would indeed enjoy sharing a meal, our peoples stand to gain much from one another, and it is my sincerest hopes that as a people dedicated to the furthering of the cause that is Humanity, we can lay the ground work for a brighter future." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Alice bowed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I look forward to further conversations." Alice said, her gaze shifting to the pillar of light. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "One should always be cautious when seeking the object of their desire." She spoke softly, so only Jecht could hear, shifting her gaze to meet his. | ||
+ | |Title=Ambassador of Irondale, Duchess of Carn Dum | ||
+ | }} | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
+ | |- | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | | | ||
+ | |{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width= | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Rebka | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone in Keffa | ||
+ | |Content=To Nerta and “friend”, | ||
+ | <br> | ||
+ | I know who you are and what you are doing. You will not succeed. Change paths. | ||
+ | |Title=UnCommoner of Nothoi | ||
+ | }} | ||
|- | |- |
Latest revision as of 02:44, 1 October 2020
The Cafe | The Square | The Kings | The Temple | The Street | ||||||
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Magic in the Air
The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||||||||||
Magic in the Air
The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||||||||||
Magic in the Air
The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||||||||||
Magic in the Air
The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||||||||||
Magic in the Air
The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||||||||||
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Light Show Slows
message to everyone in the vicinity of Keffa - 17 hours, 28 minutes ago Crackling energy sparked as Moira's individual stones approached the light before being set in a circle upon the temple dome. The moment the circle was completed was the moment Gustav stepped into the Light below. And in that moment, bold agyrian gold shot up the column of light from the dome upward, the transitioning lights below unphased. The golden hue flooded the clouds and rained light-shards upon the city. Those struck seemed suddenly more content with life. Then the whole column again filled with a colour, this time from the base of the temple, a dark vordulian crimson. And again filled the clouds and rained light-shards upon the city. Those struck seemed suddenly more ambitious in life. The column was left rotating between the previous yellow, red, black, green. Within the temple, Gustav walked into the Light under the mistaken belief it held an open portal, so strong his conviction he nearly willed it so. But mortal will is never enough alone. And so he stepped into the Light. And stepped out of the Light a moment later, his flesh melting, even his bones melting into a goop, the momentum of his stepping into the light flinging Gustav Goop across a third of the room and it's unfortunate priestly inhabitants, just as the column of light filled with dark vordulian crimson. After the second set of stones were set upon the temple roof, the rotating lights slowed. Not noticed immediately, but after careful timing by scholars, they concluded the lights now lasted 21 minutes each, rather than 15. Elsewhere, the spilt blood of the vordul ritualists in the square seemed to give off its own light. | ||||||||||
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Magic In The Air
The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||||||||||
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Magic In The Air
The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||||||||||
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Magic In The Air
The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||||||||||
Magic In The Air
The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||||||||||
Magic In The Air
The ravens croak and the sky darkens for a moment. Someone has failed in an act of magic nearby. | ||||||||||
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Training Match
Godfrey Greybrook, Ambassador of Vordul Sanguinis, Duke of Vordul Sanguinis, Priest of Vordulism meets his challenger Vahanian Blint, Grand Templar of Obia'Syela, Duke of Amen Keffa, Margrave of Keffa, Marshal of the Holy Reclaimers for the agreed training match. Vahanian has decided to use the 'overrun' strategy while Godfrey has chosen the 'defensive' strategy, giving Godfrey the advantage. After a series of blows, Vahanian wins the training match. | ||||||||||
Training Match
message to everyone in Keffa - 7 hours, 20 minutes ago Lambert of Arescod, Margrave of Lastfell meets his challenger Geralt Admyr, Knight of Unger for the agreed training match. Geralt has decided to use the 'defensive' strategy while Lambert has chosen the 'neutral' strategy, giving Lambert the advantage. After a series of blows, Lambert wins the training match. | ||||||||||
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