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    In The Ashes of Calamity

    The Lorekeeper
    The Lorekeeper

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    In The Ashes of Calamity Empty In The Ashes of Calamity

    Post by The Lorekeeper 13th February 2022, 8:03 pm


    1318
    Silagrad
    The city of Silagrad was bustling with activity as the cogs of war had begun to churn. Men and women moved about the streets of the large capital, each heading in their own direction. A fair number of them were heading on a similar path; destined for the military headquarters in the industrial sector. Summons had been handed out to all those of enlistment age, tasked with journeying to local recruitment centers and partaking in tests to determine their eligibility for the draft. Though Pergrande was not lacking in its military resources, there was still nothing wrong with laying in the groundwork for additional forces on top of their superior numbers already. Those that were exempt from the draft were the workers assigned to the factories and those that were in government positions.

    One such man was Imperial Envoy First Class Stefan Borisov. The dignitary who had survived the Fall of Felidae was walking through the halls of one of the many military towers rose up from the steel structures making up the city. His wounds were bandaged and treated, having been taken care of immediately upon return to his home. All things considered, he had managed to sustain very little injury; a few scrapes and cuts from the battle with the would-be assassins. He was lucky to even be alive, given the numbers that were being broadcast of the body count from Felidae City. It was timely then, as he turned a corner into a medium-sized, dark room, that he was going to awaken his savior. Michael Brooklyn Morgan had been in a worse state than the Envoy or even their prisoner, having used much of his psionic power to warp them out of the destructive wave given off by his false protectors. Drained and unconscious, he'd been rushed to that very tower and immersed into one of the healing pods lined on the wall. The intricately designed machines had connected pipes that connected to vats placed in the underground, filled with a healing solvent brewed particularly for espers. Wires ran down from the ceiling and from the tank itself, connecting to a panel attached on a column in front of the tank. Within the glass tube hovered Michael, unconscious as he sat in the water, gently rocking up and down from the continually moving liquid. Wires and adhesive monitors had been attached to his arms and chest, to monitor his vitals and a breathing tube had been attached over his mouth and nose. His armor and clothing had been taken off, leaving him only in his underwear so that the solvent could work to the utmost efficiency.

    Two medical personal were tending to a pair of recovering patients on the opposite side of the room. Their attention turned immediately to Stefan as he entered, both of them rushing over to greet him. “Sir,” they stated in tandem, bowing their heads and giving him an official Pergrandian salute.

    The Imperial Envoy didn’t even bother mimicking the movement. “Wake him,” he ordered, his eyes fixated on the unconscious Michael.

    Both staff members nodded and hurried over to Michael’s panel, each one taking the necessary precautions before draining the liquid. The wiring attached to Michal would feed him a stimulant, raising him out from unconsciousness slowly but surely. A loud gurgling could be heard by everyone as the solvent was drained into one of the lower tubes, quickly emptying out the glass case. With a few move command strokes, two metal arms gently swung under Michael’s arms to keep him from hitting the ground hard. They lowered him onto the metal grated ground of the healing tank, even as the glass door snapped, hissed and then swung upwards.

    Stefan approached the open case, his arms tucked behind his back as he leaned down to look at Michael. “You’ll feel a bit groggy, no doubt. The floythil helps regenerate our psionic tanks but it plays tricks on the mind as well. I imagine you had quite the visceral dreams as a side effect,” he spoke to Michael gently. Pulling a single limb forward, he offered it to his fellow Pergrandian, giving him a solid foundation to help get himself up. “I imagine you have several questions. Let me first clarify; it has been four days since our escape from Felidae City. Any other questions can wait until you’ve dressed yourself; you’ve received a summons and unfortunately it cannot wait.”

    The two attendants, who had disappeared for a few moments, reappeared with Michael’s clothing, having cleaned and made repairs on it as needed. They laid it on a nearby table and turned around. Stefan gave the man a nod and then turned himself as well, giving Michael some much needed privacy to dress himself. Once he had and stated as much, Stefan would turn back around. “It’s hardly the most official outfit but it’ll do. If anything, it showcases your heroic stature more.” And with that compliment given, he gestured with his head towards the door and led the way out. They would turn right at the doorway and continue along the hallway. “Our empress has declared a state of open war with Bellum as of yesterday. They returned their gesture with their own declaration, followed swiftly by several other nations. It seems the ‘tragedy’ of Felidae has acted as the last straw and now all out war awaits the continent of Ishgar. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it; the attempt on my life has only strengthened my resolve against the likes of magic users and their misguided belief that they are superior. They are so deeply entrenched in their sickness that there is no remedy save for putting them to the sword.” Stefan chuckled softly. “But I am getting ahead of myself. Come, my friend, we have one more person to retrieve. Our dear guildmaster Kenna Terrynhain.”

    Stefan would walk up to a door and it would slide open, revealing a lift. He would lead the way inside and then press a glowing button on the panel, signifying one of the lower levels of the tower. “She has been kept in a cell alone since we arrived. As much as I desired to question her, I was ordered not to until the empress had been properly informed about the situation. A shame, as I’m sure there was much I could have extracted from her. But now that Fiore has sided with Bellum, she shall be considered a prisoner of war.” There was no need to detail what that meant for any future interrogations Kenna would become victim to; the tone of the Envoy’s voice dictated just how malicious his fantasies on the matter were.

    After a few moments riding down, the lift came to a stop and the door would open. Standing to greet them was Estrid, the Iceberg warrior that acted as Stefan’s right hand woman. She nodded to the pair and gestured towards a door down the end of the hall. Stefan would walk the distance and wait for Estrid to unlock the heavy metal door before opening it up and stepping inside, inviting Michael to follow him. There would be Kenna, her simple restraints from before replaced with oblivium chains attached to her wrists and ankles. Though she hadn’t been strung up, it gave her very little room to move about and completely cut her off from her magic. She had been kept in complete darkness while locked up, the only hint of light coming from the flap that allowed a food tray once per day.

    Stefan crossed his arms behind his back as he looked down at the imprisoned guildmaster, a smirk on his lips. “Good morning, Kenna Terrynhain. How are we today? I’ve come with good news; you and our dear Michael have been summoned to meet with our empress. It seems she wishes to interrogate you herself.”

    Tag: @Knight Owl @Aura
    You have until 02/20/2022 to post
    Knight Owl
    Knight Owl

    Player 
    Lineage : Psionic Soul
    Position : None
    Faction : The Ironheart Pact
    Posts : 427
    Guild : Sabertooth
    Dungeon Tokens : 4
    Experience : 1,421,385

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Psionic Ascendance
    Second Magic: Manifold Armory
    Third Magic: Sepulchre's Sigil

    In The Ashes of Calamity Empty Re: In The Ashes of Calamity

    Post by Knight Owl 16th February 2022, 12:43 pm



    Michael Brooklyn Morgan "Red Alert"
    In the Ashes of Calamity

    It was silent. Eerily silent. The esper had no idea where he was or what was going on, and that the events of Felidae city did not register to him, as if he had forgotten what had transpired. And there, in an endless sea of darkness, he was still, with the ebb and flow of the currents moving him around. He laid motionless with his eyes closed, as if asleep, until he would open his eyes to find himself in another place. Unfamiliar. Alien, with what appears to be a crowd of shadows hurling insults against him. “You don’t belong here!” “You call that magic? Pathetic!” “You’re worthless!” And while he wanted to say something, he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything, let alone speak, forced to bear witness to a crowd of angry shadows. The vision before him faded just as an eerie chorus echoed. Everything shifted, as he would witness another vision.

    His gaze fell on a familiar land, yet it was still very foreign that he couldn't pinpoint where it was. And there he saw a familiar figure, whose wings were as black as night and his blades dancing around. He looked up to see the dreamer of R'lyeh, C'thulhu, badly injured despite its eldritch might would win him this battle. “You are defeated.” the avian would say, “Now honor your promise.” “Very well.” The eldritch god said, his voice echoing around the place just as he did when he spoke with him in Lavinitir, “A pact, I shall honor. I will grant you the power to resist your enemies' magics, at a cost.” These words echoed as the vision faded once more, the endless sea of darkness greeting him again.

    And then he heard three words uttered by two people. I hate magic. They would say in unison.

    He had no idea how long he'd been drifting. He had no idea he was unconscious, that he was only dreaming. All he knows is he can’t do anything. When he wondered what happened, memories of the events that transpired came flooding back to him. That he is powerless to prevent such calamity filled him with despair. And hate. He has seen what magic can do when left unchecked and uncontested. He wanted to do more, but he couldn’t. The least he could do was save the Pergrandians, his twins, and Giselle. They’re alright, at least, though it cost him dearly.

    He’d been drifting for a long time now. How long has he been dreaming? Weeks? Months? Years? The only thought that occupied him was thoughts of vengeance. Against the twins. Against that bastard guild master of the dark guild. Against Plumed Serpent. Oh how he relishes the thought of seeing them suffer. Especially the twins. It wasn’t until he had a moment of clarity that he realized he wasn’t being himself, as if another personality took over him. A clear effect on the erosion of his mind, he finally realized, with the devil’s influence melding unto him. This wasn’t him. No, he wants to avenge the lives lost in Felidae. Justice is due, and he shall deliver them. If only he could get out of this dream and wake up.

    Then, as he thought of it, a flash of light shone on him, almost blinding him from it. A hand reached out to him, as if trying to reach and grab him to take him away from this sea of darkness. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t reach out to them. He was tired, or maybe it’s because this sea of darkness has made it hard for him to move. Still, he was determined to wake up and, mustering all his strength, he grabbed hold of the soft, delicate arm reaching out from the light. They pulled him out of this sea of darkness, and what greeted him was none other than his own mother.

    “Wake up, my dear.” She said, “We’re home.”

    The light would grow brighter and brighter until he couldn’t see his mother anymore. Another vision greeted him, this time as the lights disappeared. Everything was in black and white, like a noir film. He saw himself on board on a ship with who he assumes is his mother while she was still in her youth. She doesn’t seem to notice him, and as he inspected himself, he appeared to be in someone else’s point of view. Doubtless a vision of his mother’s past. However, this doesn’t seem like modern day Ishgar, apparent from the age old tech. “Are you sure it’s wise for us to leave Pergrande?” His mother said, but before she could say anymore, she was interrupted. “Your father trusted me to see you to safety. You can’t help and you know it, because you’re the only one without power. Which is why your father sent you away so you may have a better life elsewhere. Right now, Pergrande is in turmoil and your sisters and brothers can’t do anything about it.”

    “...I understand.”

    “Yes. House Levin must survive. That is his will.”

    “Will I ever get to see them again?” There was a short pause before the man replied, hesitant at his answer. “...I don’t know. But do not lose heart. It will be over soon.” Everything went brighter as he said those things, the vision disappearing in a blur of white.

    And then, he woke up.

    A rude awakening no doubt from the simulant fed into him. He found himself awake on the metal floor, and in front of him stood the person who he saved, Stefan Borisov, reaching out to him with a helping hand. Doubtless he was groggy and he couldn’t make sense of what he said a while ago. He was up, with the aid of the envoy, and while he wanted to get some answers from him, that will have to wait. He was given his clothes and a little privacy to dress up, though it occurred to him that his current outfit won’t do considering his… demon arm. The eldritch sigils on his left arm could easily be hidden under these sleeves. The same can’t be said for his demon arm, however, with his right hand sticking out like a sore thumb. Most especially the glowing bits bleeding through the fabrics. None of the Pergrandians seem to question it, so plans to hide it can wait. Right now, he was summoned.

    He did succeed in protecting the envoy, but it inevitably caused Pergrande to take action and declare war. With that respect, he succeeded in protecting hism, but he failed to make sure they secured peace. It’s a reasonable reaction for Pergrande, considering they were ambushed by magic users. It’s a shame that it had to turn out like this, considering that bitch of a twin was responsible for this whole ordeal. He followed Stefan through the facility without question, and to him, it was very uneventful. But to see Sabertooth’s guild master locked up as a prisoner of war is a surprise.

    He could do nothing save for cringing a little inside while he listened to the envoy’s… prattle about interrogating Kenna himself. He’s not one to act rashly afterall, and given that he’s in Pergrandian soil, it’s best for him to behave lest he meet the ire of the empire. He later saw the familiar face of the Iceberg woman, Estrid. Then, there he saw Kenna, chained up by oblivium restraints. He wanted to be angry, but for her sake, he chose not to show any emotion. Or rather, he can’t be angry because he couldn’t, just mad that they chose to treat her like this despite her best intentions.

    "I didn't think we'd meet like this. I'm sorry." He felt it necessary to apologize to her for bringing her to Pergrande. He could've sent her somewhere in Fiore, but no. He could only blame himself for this misstep. His somber tone might've come off as insincere, but in reality, he couldn't help but feel grim about the situation on Felidae, and the consequences that transpired thereafter.

    POST WORD COUNT: 1344
    TOTAL WORD COUNT: 1344
    MEL @ WW


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Aura
    Aura

    Moderator- Mythical VIP Status- Knight VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Dragon Slayer- Legal Guild Ace- Haiku Contest Participant- Lineage Making Contest Participant- Rich- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Master [1000]- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 3rd Place Event/Contest Winner- Player 
    Lineage : Gingerbread Man
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    Posts : 1345
    Guild : Sabertooth 《Guildmaster》
    Cosmic Coins : 400
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 28
    Experience : 60,342

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Fires of Creation
    Second Magic: The Riyenas
    Third Magic:

    In The Ashes of Calamity Empty Re: In The Ashes of Calamity

    Post by Aura 20th February 2022, 2:41 pm

    "So, this is where you've gotten us now."

    Even in the darkness of her cell, Kenna said nothing to the voice booming in her head, her eyes pinned on the darkness that only once every so often eluded the thought of an exit. A small flap that granted her food, and a single glance of light before it closed again. From the very moment they'd arrived and had been locked in darkness, the demoness had taken to the silence as her one and only friend. Although she had an idea of time, she could not say for sure how much time had passed since she'd been confined to her new abode; days, for sure, but not quite a week. She'd been eating her meals in silence, moved only briefly to make sure her body would not grow stiff during her quarantine, but otherwise remained in meditation. Kneeling, her chains almost meticulously draped beside her. Yet her calmth was a façade, to not betray how much she was struggling with the darkness and the chains, all just grim reminders of her past.

    "... This is not the same situation, Aelyn."

    A shakey exhale followed as she closed her eyes, her head slowly tilting until it faced the floor before her knees. "But that does not make it any less uncomfortable, Akhator. You know this. You were there." Few knew that the guild master loathed chains ever since her reincarnation; the oblivium chackles only reminding her of the altar she'd been chained to upon awakening from her supposed death. How they'd been burnt into her wrists until they'd become one with her very limbs. Eventually she had healed from her wounds when her body transcended into her current demonic form, but the sensation of restraints consistently pressuring her skin? It was driving her crazy, slowly, but steadily. In that regard the darkness had been a welcome burden, blocking the visuals from actually setting in.  

    "As were you, child. This time, you're not alone; you still have your being, your allies, people who will rush to your aid once they find out what transpired."

    "Maybe that's what I'm afraid of. We can't afford any missteps until we find out what's going on… aside from the obvious. We cannot risk the others being dragged into this mess. Not like this. I'd rather do this on my own and take the fall if it means keeping them safe, Akhator… knowing Itori would kill me for even thinking about it." Kenna smiled weakly, shifting her weigth to her other leg. In the end, sending Astaroth away to report to Itori had been for the best. Although she was certain the temporary appearance of her half of the Pergrandian delegation within Yggdrasil's halls would've been enough of a hint to show something was astray, they hadn't been there long enough to have any interactions. A minute or two at most had passed before she'd pulled them back towards the location Michael had portalled them to. The man was still much of a mystery to her, but he had saved her life -and that of many-, and by that right had called her into a debt of gratitude she was very keen on returning.

    Although there was a worry on how the man was faring, she hadn't been a fool to realise he'd been getting a far more favorable treatment than she ever would. In their eyes he was a hero; not only because his acts had warranted him such a title, but because he was one of them. Esper. Non-magical. The demoness hadn't been blind to the way they looked at her, like she was mere filth. Even during the war, they had looked at her like that. Only now she would not act with the hotheaded, reckless abandon she once had. Not until she knew more of her current situation.

    Akhator, aware of her every thought, sighed solemnly. "You still have your magic." It was as much a statement as it was a suggestion, one that made the demon queen scoff out loud before continuing her internal dialogue with the primal God of Creation chained to her soul. "Magic? Don't fuck around with me, Akhator, you can feel it just as well as I do that these things thwart my magic from forming." She rose her hands, allowing the chains to rattle ever so slightly before putting them back down. "If you're trying to make fun of the situation, save it. I-" A loud cackle echoed through her mind, cutting off any words she was about to say. The god gladly took over in this moment of silence. "don't know what you're capable of. There's so much more to our gift than just magic, Child. You don't need it. All you have to do is learn. Learn how to grasp the potential laying within yourself…." Akhator's words betrayed he knew more than he let on, but the god refused any more secrets to be spilt on his part. Yes, she knew that she'd evolved the gift Akhator had received in some unknown way, and that the god did not like spell everything out for her, but this was an emergency in its own right.

    Yet no matter how she tried, nothing more came of the immortal being, not even casual banter. Left to ponder about his words, Kenna was late in noticing the footsteps echoing through hall. Only when they fiddled with the locks on the door did the white-haired woman look up, in time to close her eyes when the door was pulled open, revealing none other than Stefan Borisov standing in the doorway. Kenna would still be seated, legs tucked away underneath her, hands resting on her lap and her back straightened into an immaculate, almost statuesque posture. When she opened her eyes she made sure her gaze was pinned upon the ground at first; it appeared as something humble, but she knew better than to gaze directly into a light source when her eyes had been shrouded in darkness for such a long time. His voice however, she'd never forget. Nor would she forget that of Michael Morgan, who seemed to be doing just fine. "Lord Envoy. Mr. Morgan." she nodded in greeting, her gaze finally looking up as Borisov mentioned they'd been summoned to meet the empress herself. So her interrogation would become a show? An amused huff followed as nodded, slowly getting unto her feet. "So it seems…. Well, I better not keep Her Majesty waiting then." She could feel her legs weren't truly holding on, but she did a good job hiding the temporary unsteadiness as she got up. Her attention then shifted to Michael, who apologised for meeting her under these circumstances. Although his tone made it hard to make out whether he was truly sincere or not, she did not ponder on it for long, only shaking her head. "No need to be, Mr. Morgan. We're alive, that's all that matters." It was all she said. Had these been different circumstances she would've thanked him in a more friendly manner, but right now the best course of action was one where they had as little connections as possible. So they could not use it against her, or against him. If she were to fall, she'd fall alone.




    Wordcount: 1220


    _____________________________________________________________________________________




    And be she but Small,
    she is Fierce


    In The Ashes of Calamity GWsGXSQ

    .:} The Road of Desire |Fire Dragon Slayer | Kenna Terrynhain {:.
    .:} The Nightmare in Your Head | Avide - Combat Pet {:.


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    The Lorekeeper
    The Lorekeeper

    1 Year Anniversary- Player 
    Lineage : Observer
    Position : Keeper of Knowledge
    Posts : 24
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 0

    In The Ashes of Calamity Empty Re: In The Ashes of Calamity

    Post by The Lorekeeper 6th March 2022, 11:44 am


    495/1813
    Silagrad
    Kenna Terrynhain looked about as well as one person could, given her situation. Most people would probably look defeated or rundown from their numerous days within the dark confines of a dungeon but the guildmaster had taken her imprisonment in stride; seemingly meditating and keeping her wits about her. Stefan Borisov’s amused, almost impressed smirk stayed upon his face as she kept her gaze lowered, intelligently ridding herself of the pain of accidentally blinding herself with the new intrusion of light. She greeted them softly before listening to his words and understanding, slowly getting to her feet. Michael took the moment to apologize for the situation, drawing a raised brow glance from the Imperial Envoy, even as Kenna dismissed the apology as needless. “I forget that you’re awfully chummy with the mages of Fiore, Michael, as you did opt to roam about them. Our dear guildmaster was imprisoned on suspicion of acting in tandem with the twin witches from Plumed Serpent, though I was a bit careless in my quick assumption of such. It was thanks to her own words and that of your compatriot Giselle that I did not worsen the situation by slaying a Fiorean guildmaster. For my irrational actions, I offer my apologies, Miss Kenna Terrynhain.” He gave her a slight bow of his head.

    “But as I was just telling Michael, war is upon us. Pergrande and Bellum have officially entered a state of open hostility and lines have been drawn. Your home of Fiore has sided with Bellum, under no surprise, and as such, you are treated as the first prisoner of war, if only by technicality. As such, it is pertinent that my empress speaks with you sooner rather than later." His hands came forward once more, showing a pair of anti-magic cuffs that he’d kept on his belt loop. With very minimal psychic effort, he floated the shackles over, unlocking them and gently looping them around Kenna’s wrists. Once it was secure, he slashed his fingers gently in the air in front of him and the longer chains snapped open from her wrists and ankles, freeing her from that entrapment. Once unbound, the anti-magic cuffs would activate, bringing her arms forward and ensnaring them together via an electrical current.

    “If you wouldn’t mind coming with me,” he gestured for Kenna and Michael to follow, turning on his heel and walking out the door. Assuming that the guildmaster was right behind them, Estrid would step in behind Kenna, acting as the rear guard as they once again headed to the elevator. The group would pack in tight together before Stefan would press a button on lift and once again they would be sailing up the tube to a new floor. “I imagine you both have some questions,” Stefan remarked to both Michael and Kenna, barely turning his focus back to them. “Ask away. I’d rather you not stew in silent contempt. Best to get everything out in the open.”


    Tag: @Knight Owl @Aura
    You have until 03/20/2022 to post


    Last edited by The Lorekeeper on 30th March 2022, 7:26 pm; edited 3 times in total
    Knight Owl
    Knight Owl

    Player 
    Lineage : Psionic Soul
    Position : None
    Faction : The Ironheart Pact
    Posts : 427
    Guild : Sabertooth
    Dungeon Tokens : 4
    Experience : 1,421,385

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Psionic Ascendance
    Second Magic: Manifold Armory
    Third Magic: Sepulchre's Sigil

    In The Ashes of Calamity Empty Re: In The Ashes of Calamity

    Post by Knight Owl 19th March 2022, 2:12 pm



    Michael Brooklyn Morgan "Red Alert"
    In the Ashes of Calamity

    Despite all that was going on, Michael just seemed to be… off-character. His somber expression betrayed his sincere apology to Sabertooth’s guild master for getting them into this situation. True, because of him, they are alive, but this led to her bound in chains of oblivium, her access to magic blocked due to the metal’s unique properties of anti-magic. Then there’s Giselle, who he may or may not have dragged into this situation, but there seems to be no sign of her. Was she executed? Did she keep a secret that warranted her death? Was she kept in solitary confinement? These thoughts did race through his head, yet he did not feel worry. In fact, he felt nothing at all, as if his heart was replaced with that of a machine - compliant, artificial. There was no regret. Perhaps just as he saw everything as ‘gray’, making colors meaningless, his heart grew to be… apathetic. All but one of his emotions were probably snuffed out from the consequence of his borrowed power. And that was rage.

    I hate magic. These words echoed in his mind again, but he didn’t react.

    He wasn’t even paying attention to Stefan and Kenna, but rather he was fixated at the thought of the millions of ways he could torture the dark guild responsible for Felidae’s destruction. A million ways to maim its guild master. A million ways to send the twins into despair. Perhaps, these thoughts resonated with the chthonian entities sealed within him, or that these beings’ influence has affected his state of mind. It wasn’t until he found himself in the elevator once more that he snapped out of his trance, but it didn’t look like it was obvious his mind was somewhere else. No, this wasn’t him, and he pushed away thoughts of murder and homicide; thoughts of revenge. He was just following Stefan, who was to lead the two of them to Pergrande’s ruler.

    Questions? He’d rather not ask about the war as he could already assume why they declared war. After all, they were being ambushed by magic extremists. If not him, then perhaps Kenna had some questions that warranted answers from the Pergrandian. No questions about their plans for their skirmish against Bellum. After all, they have to answer for the magic extremists. But what about Felidae? He only knew it to be obliterated, but the extent of its damage is unknown to him. “What of the situation in Felidae? The aftermath?” He’d listen well to Stefan's reply, responding with an “I see.” after he learned of what had happened. After his question was answered, there’s just one thing left for him to ask.

    His family lineage.

    He dreamt of his mother, who told him they were home. Could this mean something? What’s weird is that he didn’t see his father in his dream. Perhaps Stefan would know. “I’m curious. What do you know about house Levin?”

    POST WORD COUNT: 489
    TOTAL WORD COUNT: 1833
    MEL @ WW


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Aura
    Aura

    Moderator- Mythical VIP Status- Knight VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Dragon Slayer- Legal Guild Ace- Haiku Contest Participant- Lineage Making Contest Participant- Rich- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Master [1000]- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 3rd Place Event/Contest Winner- Player 
    Lineage : Gingerbread Man
    Position : None
    Posts : 1345
    Guild : Sabertooth 《Guildmaster》
    Cosmic Coins : 400
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 28
    Experience : 60,342

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Fires of Creation
    Second Magic: The Riyenas
    Third Magic:

    In The Ashes of Calamity Empty Re: In The Ashes of Calamity

    Post by Aura 20th March 2022, 3:37 pm

    The demoness nodded at the Envoy's apologies of his previous accusations, leaving any words of acceptance unsaid, not knowing whether they'd potentially irk him or not. She was, after all, a mage in an environment with an anti-magic mentality, a prisoner on top of that, an by far not important -or strong- enough to appear any more cocky than she had been before her imprisonment. If anything, she knew better, and the situation asked for calculated actions and words rather than her usual brazen self. Therefore, acknowledgment was all she'd do. Yet when Stefan Borisov explained further she realised why she'd been kept in chains. A prisoner of war… of course. Just her luck to be caught off guard like that when she was already unable to do much as is.

    A soft sigh escaped her, but she didn't quite make eye-contact with anyone, instead just looking straight ahead of her. "So it seems. Though a technicality, it does cast some clarity on the overall situation." Her cuffs were replaced, chains for some technologically savvy equipment she would've been intrigued by had the situation been any less hostile or severe in nature. Kenna followed suit when asked to follow, and before long the small group had made their way into an elevator transporting them elsewhere; although her eyes were keen and scanning whatever she could see, she slightly turned her head towards the Envoy as he proposed to get any of their questions out of the way with. Michael's question was one she shared as well; what had become of Felidae? Their people? The city? Seeing as open hostilities had been announced yet again she could only guess, yet details were a welcome addition. "You mentioned open hostilities and lines having been drawn… how far does the conflict reach? If Fiore sided with Bellum I can only guess the remaining countries of Ishgar having taken their stances as well, no?" She'd seen her fair shares or war to know that full-blown hostilities meant allies jumping to their respective allies' aid, so it was only another step to think that Ishgar too would've become more divided. Although it was more a question for her own selfish needs, she wanted to know every single detail she could get away with.

    Yet she'd only nod in silence to whatever information she'd been given, a single crease in her forehead allowing proof of the thoughts roaming through her head. The guildmaster however perked at hearing Michael's next question, prompting her own silence even more as he asked about house Levin. She'd never heard of those before… was it his family? A friend's? Another thing to file away for later as she listened intently. The man, as of yet, was an enigma still, and that made her curious. Curious enough to mostly ignore any other questions she might've had handy. It were questions she'd find her answers to soon enough anyway, but one had strangely squirmed its way further into her mind. Far enough that once Michael had gotten his answers from Borisov, she'd carefully ask about it, as if she wasn't sure this was her right to ask. After all, in all technicality, these people now were her 'enemies'. There was a slight worry visible in her expression as she brought up the question. "The people of the Delegation, the ones that were with us… are they alright?"


    Wordcount: 565 || 1785


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    The Lorekeeper
    The Lorekeeper

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    In The Ashes of Calamity Empty Re: In The Ashes of Calamity

    Post by The Lorekeeper 30th March 2022, 7:20 pm


    672/2485
    Silagrad
    Stefan opened the floor to their questions, given that they had a few moments for the lift to take them to a new level. Unsurprisingly, Michael spoke up about Felidae, wanting to know what the situation was there. Stefan turned his gaze slightly to look at his fellow Pergrandian. “Felidae is no more.” He spoke the words slowly, impactfully, making sure that he truly understood what it was he was asking. But he opted to clarify and continue. “The numbers are still being surmised from every nation but only the outlier parts of the city remain and even they are not in the best of states. The twin witches, Yurielle and Yuliana, cast a spell that vaporized almost all the life in the city. Were it not for the magical installations by Fiore’s Rune Knights, it is safe to say that everyone would have been wiped from existence, save for us. As for the aftermath, there was such chaos and misunderstanding to what was happening that any measure of defense was wiped away. The Desiertian army that had been advancing swiftly overwhelmed the city limits; there they slaughtered, raped, pillaged and enslaved dozens if not hundreds of Felidae’s citizens before retreating to the sands once more.”

    His explanation was cold, analytical, focused on the details and lacking any of the empathy one might have felt at such harrowing news. But to his credit, he also didn’t seem amused by the matter either -- whether he was hiding that or not was anyone’s guess. “Joya has closed its borders and has sworn violence against any nation that dares enter their lands. But the rest of Ishgar is far too focused on their own preparations to want to continue any investigation at the moment.” Picking up on that cue, Kenna spoke of the alliances that had been drawn, curious to know how enflamed the continent had become. “My dear guildmaster, almost every nation has been forced to pick one of three sides; either they stand with Pergrande, Bellum or remain completely neutral. I forget that you’ve been locked away for several days and haven’t had the opportunity to read the developing news.”

    “Pergrande stands with Iceberg, Enca and Minstrel under the flag of an alliance called the Ironheart Pact. Meanwhile, Bellum has pulled in Desierto, Ca-Elum and Fiore to help form the ‘Luminous Covenant’. The other nations I didn’t mention had opted to remain neutral in the conflict, citing either no desire to partake in the bloodshed or no benefit.” Once more Stefan broke down the details as if he was reading statistics off a page, disinterested and detached from the weight of the words. His tone took a turn a moment later when Michael spoke up, asking a far more personal question in relation to his name and house. “No more than what was provided in your dossier. In fact, I was hesitant to believe that you were truly from Pergrande in the first place; I’d never heard of House Levin until I saw it attached to your name. It seems, Michael, that you may have been struck from our records for one reason or another. A fact that is quite curious to me.”

    Kenna spoke up once more, asking about the delegation and the group that had been with them. “Cardinal Leonida Ferreolius is dead. Assassinated mere moments before the vipers from Plumed Serpent struck. It seems that both I and he were meant to lose our lives as a means to stoke the fires of war. No doubt our respective nations sought a means to interrupt the peaceful parlay that had been called for. Goats to the slaughter, we were led to be sacrificed and yet I was the only one that came out alive.”

    The lift let out a pleasant ring, alerting them all to the fact that they’d arrived at the new level. “Follow me,” he said, gesturing idly with his head as the door slid open and they marched out towards a long, narrow bridge leading towards the palace.

    Tag: @Knight Owl @Aura
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    Knight Owl
    Knight Owl

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    First Magic: Psionic Ascendance
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    In The Ashes of Calamity Empty Re: In The Ashes of Calamity

    Post by Knight Owl 5th April 2022, 8:59 am



    Michael Brooklyn Morgan "Red Alert"
    In the Ashes of Calamity

    Angry is not a word that best describes what the esper was feeling after he heard news of Desierto’s assault on Joya. An understatement. It was a complex feeling of wanting to avenge the victims of the assault with the cruelest of methods and at the same time remorseful that he wasn’t there where he was needed the most. Not that he had any way of knowing, or rather, he was in a… complicated position. He can’t do anything to undo time and do what he should’ve done. At the same time, he might just as well try to wipe Desierto off the map, a thought that would invade his subconscious that, maybe, he’d considered. After all, at this time his ideals are fickle like a pendulum swinging from one side of the moral compass to the other. One cannot live with naive ideals, afterall. Needless to say, their deeds painted a very bad picture to him. He only knows one thing:

    Desierto must pay.

    And to think that Desierto had the audacity to join forces with Bellum to form the Luminous Covenant made him angry, yet he did not make this displeasure show. Or rather, it would be obvious if one was to look at his eyes. Ironic, that the pillagers are siding with the ‘good guys’. Who knows what sort of secrets Bellum had that are not made public. In fact, maybe it is Bellum’s intention to cause this war. He wouldn’t know. He could only draw speculations as to why. Though seeing Fiore and the Rune Knights being part of their faction seemed so wrong to him, he would not bring himself to fight his twin brother, Francois, who is a part of the Rune Knights. Fiore’s motives could be seen as ‘avenging the death of their cardinal’, which is why they joined the faction - another speculation drawn from the facts he knew and experienced. After all, he would have done the same.

    As for Stefan’s answer to his other question, it struck him odd that he was stricken from their records, as if he was originally born from Pergrande. Yet to his knowledge, he was a Fiorian. Son of a Fiorian noble and loving mother, both slain at the mercy of a nameless dark guild. There must be a missing piece of the puzzle, but that can wait. Pressing matters begged for immediate attention, as he followed Stefan, along with the chained Sabertooth guildmaster, without another word to afford himself silence to collect his thoughts.

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    Aura
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    In The Ashes of Calamity Empty Re: In The Ashes of Calamity

    Post by Aura 16th April 2022, 4:07 pm

    A crease formed in her eyebrows as she learnt the fate of Felidae. Almost completely wiped off the map, safe for a portion of its outskirts; yet those that survived had been ransacked and worse by the Desertian troops that had made their way across the border. In such a short time, the continent's fate had been reshaped completely. All-out war, and they were stuck in the middle of it all, their own problems still far from over before they could properly focus on other things– at least, in her case it was as such. Although she could not speak for the esper, she was quite certain he'd face less restraint than she would in the events up ahead.

    Lost in thoughts she was only half-listening when Michael's personal question was being answered, yet she could not feign her curiosity when she heard the part about being struck from their records. Such a thing was curious indeed.

    When her second question was answered, the Sabertooth guildmaster merely nodded. Although she'd initially meant the rest of the Pergrandian delegation when she asked what had become of the rest of the delegation, she knew better than to point that little tidbit out to Borisov. After all, no news was good news, she figured, and knowing of the other delegation's fate too showed how dire their situation was. Both envoys had been attacked in the end, with the other group ending up a whole lot less fortunate in keeping theirs alive. With the information at hand one would think it all a ploy of the Desiertans to deal a heavy blow to Joya and its morale, the assassinations, one attempted and one successful, were distractions to their true goal. Would they truly have gone that far, to hire foreign dark mages to further their cause? It would not seem so farfetched to assume, but the twins that had wreaked havoc upon Felidae did not seem like they'd allow someone to hire them at first glance… then again, what did she know?

    With more pressing matters to deal with at hand, Kenna put the newly-rising fabrications of her mind to rest, leaving them for another time to explore in more detail. Just like Michael she'd return to her previous silence, focusing back on the Pergrandian infrastructure around her as they exited the lift and ventured onto a bridge that lead them to what she could only presume to be a palace of sorts.



    Wordcount: 410 || 2195


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    In The Ashes of Calamity GWsGXSQ

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