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The Quest for the Lost God; Chapter One: The Heroes of All World
Topic Started: Jul 20 2011, 03:36 PM (2,464 Views)
Darkom
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Philosophizer

The Quest for the Lost God

Dark follows light, as surely as night follows day. We have lived for generations in the light, squandering our time in the day as if it would never end. Now night is falling, and we have only a single flame of hope to keep out the darkness. The sun has fallen from the sky. Night has fallen. The Goddess help us all to reach the dawn.
King Richard of Sunkeep


The Goddess has abandoned us. Humanity has been left alone to face the coming Dark. Evil has swept down from the north, threatening to drown the lands of All World in a wave of destruction. Without the Mistress of Light to protect us, all is surely doomed. And yet, we cannot give in. A shred of hope is still within our grasp, and to save the world from annihilation, we will stop at nothing to reach it.

Scholars spoke of the world being cast into darkness, ages ago, before the Church of the Light united humanity against the Dark Lord's armies. Prophets have warned us that it would happen again, that our own sins would bring about our destruction. None of the High Kings believed them; no one thought it was possible. Even the Church itself ignored the warnings, growing fat from the people they claimed to save. Now the day of reckoning has come and gone, and the shadow of death creeps ever further upon the land.

The Lord of the Night has tried and failed to invade the Golden Kingdoms before. We thought we were safe, that the Creator would protect us. But now, even She has left us, and the Dark Lord marches ever closer to the beating heart of humanity. His minions have swept down from the northern mountains, from the Blighted Lands that lie beyond, to rain death upon the people of All World. Vampires, Orcs, demons of all shapes and sizes roam the land, slaughtering innocents with a horrifying abandon. Pestilence spreads from city to city, killing thousands more, and famine has struck even our most fertile valleys.

The High Kings have forgotten their petty squabbles, forgiven ancient grudges to meet in the white castle of Sunkeep. The most powerful men in the Golden Kingdoms have gathered for a great council, to decide what humanity can do to fight off this approaching evil. The pious kings of the south wish to pray to the Creator for forgiveness, in hopes She shall return and grant us salvation. The militant lords of the north call for the High Kings to rally their armies, to push back the Dark Lord through force of arms. Only one, the soft spoken Duke of Wellay, has proposed a third option: seek out the Lost God, the Preserver of Life. He cited ancient tomes, found deep within his castle's libraries, which speak of another time when Darkness enveloped the land. Only the Lost God, sought out by a band of mythic heroes, had the power to save All World.

The council, after many days of squabbling amongst themselves, has agreed to a compromise. Every soldier of the Golden Kingdoms has been sent marching north, to fight back the Dark Lord's armies. Meanwhile, a second call has gone out, assembling the greatest heroes of the land for a daring expedition. Any man or woman who thinks themselves worthy is to meet at the great castle of Sunkeep, on the first of March. Be their motives noble or selfish, these heroes heed the High Kings' call for their own reasons. They come from all across the land, from all walks of life. But no matter how different they may be, they share own thing in common: they may be the world's last hope for survival. For they undergo a mission unprecedented in the Golden Kingdoms: a Quest for the Lost God!


We brave souls who have undertaken this, the most virtuous of missions, are to meet at the grand hall of the castle at Sunkeep, on the first of March. Many will travel far to get there, but from the jewel of the Golden Kingdoms we shall journey further still. Our destination lies eastward, past the islands of the Tsydrian, through the jungles of the elves, beyond the borders of the known world. Our first destination, however, is the castle of Wellay, to the south, where Lord Chaucer shall prepare us for the journey ahead. From there we set sail eastward, moving along the southern coast, until we reach the fabled tree cities of the elves. The voyage shall not be easy, for even with the threat of the Dark Lord the southern seas remain a dangerous place. We must press onward, however, for our true destination still lies far away, in that uncharted place known only as the Shadow Land.




And the Goddess took those ashes the Evil One had left, and from them sprung forth life. Out of cold earth She drew wonderful fruit, and for this mankind must be forever grateful. She has been a loving Mother, guiding and protecting us from the Darkness for all these years. But we have squandered Her Gift, sullied it with our unclean hands. We were safe from the outer evils, but even She could not protect us from the Darkness within our own hearts.

Rules and Information:

This roleplay is going to be very free form in nature. Everything from the setting to the adventures we have along the way will be controlled by you, the players. The world itself has already begun to take shape under your creative hands, and as we progress it will only grow more and more exotic. Anything goes in the world creation, to an extent; I trust you all to be responsible with the duty you've been entrusted with. If you do have any ideas, however, for the world at large or an adventure for our little band of heroes, please, feel free to tell us about it in the discussion thread. If you want to fight a gang of vampires, or help a disgraced prince ascend his throne, I'm sure you're not the only one. The whole point of having such an open RP is so that anything is possible. So please, help us make this roleplay a fun one.

We're all mature here (hopefully), so I know there won't be any problems with the rules. I don't know what kind of restrictions you all have had in other roleplays, but given the nature of this one I'll allow a certain degree of freedom. You all know what is and is not acceptable, but just to avoid any incidents, I'll put up a small list of things not to do, along with a few things that are acceptable.

The Rules





All of my life I have devoted to gathering knowledge. My castle's libraries are without equal in the Golden Kingdoms; the oldest and most valuable tomes in the world are assembled there. Dozens of scholars have joined me in my quest, thousands of hours spent searching through texts for even a hint of salvation. And yet, for all my resources, for all my energies, my hunt has yielded only a single clue. An obscure reference, found in an ancient journal, of a rumor mentioned in another, lost volume. And yet, this rumor, this myth, may be all we have to fight the Lord of the Dark. Humanity's only hope lies in finding this Lost God!
Lord Chaucer, Duke of Wellay


All World; the Appendix:

The world itself is, if you couldn't tell, a very generic, stereotypical fantasy land. This is to allow for maximum creativity for the players, as anything you want to create is possible. We will all be building the world as we go, so in order to keep some kind of reference, I'll be keeping an appendix of important lore concerns. For anything not explicitly covered, use your own imagination.

First off, we have a few maps of the world itself, which we will be adding to as we discover new lands. Here is the link to them; all will be going into that album, so I'd keep it handy if I were you.

The political map is labeled with various numbers, representing the countries of the Golden Kingdoms. Some have been named already, but most are still open for creative license. Here is a full list of the various states, along with a brief description and history of each. Also, if a player has already claimed that country as the homeland of their character, they reserve full control, so their name will be there as well. If two share the same country, they will have to agree on the facts.


The Golden Kingdoms


Besides that basic information, we have a growing encyclopedia of worldbuilding, including the races, religions, and other threads in the tapestry that is All World. Much of it originated with the ideas of you, the players, so if you have anything else you'd like to add to the appendix, please, post it in the adjacent thread (cleverly titled, "Lost God Appendix"). Thank you.

The Appendix, continued



And with that, it's on to the roleplay! We shall begin in the grand hall of the castle at Sunkeep, where the king will shortly be meeting with our heroes in his throne room. For now, get to know the other characters within the great hall, where refreshments have been provided. The door to the throne room shall be opened shortly, and from there we will move quickly on to Wellay, where my primary character will be meeting you. And after that, we head east, to find the Lost God! :D

Let the roleplaying begin!
Edited by Darkom, Jul 25 2011, 01:47 PM.
Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream. ~Mark Twain
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Darkom
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Character Sheets

Here, in no particular order, are the heroes that will be saving the world. If I've somehow forgotten you, or something is wrong with your sheet, please let me know so I can change it. Also, the original character sheet list was too long for the forum, so it will be split up into two posts. Thank you.

Character Sheets:

Duke Smugleaf


Quirk


Half Tooth


Evil Pigeon




Edited by Darkom, Jul 20 2011, 04:21 PM.
Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream. ~Mark Twain
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Darkom
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Character Sheets, Continued

The remainder of our heroes.

Character Sheets:

Ambrose


Colonel Mustard


James


Darkom


Edited by Darkom, Jul 20 2011, 04:23 PM.
Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream. ~Mark Twain
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Darkom
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The Grand Hall of Castle Sunkeep; March 1st, 1066 AL (Age of Light)

A yellow light dawned on the marble walls of Sunkeep, the city's shadows shrinking as morning slowly conquered the night. Sunkeep, center of the Golden Kingdoms, awoke to the sound of bells ringing in the spires of the castle, which served as both court and cathedral for the city. The wide, stone paved streets slowly began to fill with people, the citizens rising to their daily tasks. As the sun rose over the eastern hills the morning bells fell silent, their echoes ringing their final calls against the city's famous alabaster walls.

As soon as the bells fell quiet, a new cacophony of sound filled the city. The calls of merchants, hawking their wares; the city guard, their boots stomping against the cobblestone; and a constant, low buzz- the sound of thousands of voices, all talking at once as they went about their day. Carriages rolled through the streets, the drivers shouting at pedestrians as their noble employers sat unseen within. Another ordinary morning in All World's largest city.

Rising above it all, towering over the shops and houses, dwarfing even the harbor warehouses, sat Castle Sunkeep. The city's namesake, the castle dominated the sprawling metropolis below. Towers and battlements rose from the central block like the arms of some mythic beast, the crenellated parapets jutting like square fingers. Its daunting white walls were broken only by brilliant stained glass windows, reverent images of the Goddess reflecting colored shards of light onto the marble floors below.

Upon the castle's only balcony, a single man stood, gazing at the sea with somber eyes. The tall figure cast a long shadow on the stone, his auric crown sparkling in the morning light, bright against his tawny hair. His beard, the same burnished hazel as his locks, fell neatly against his chest. He wore a robe of magnifent gold, shimmering with a Tsydrian ripple , trimmed in soft white fur. He placed his long hands upon the stone balcony, looking down with a sigh. A single ring adorning his right, the sunburst crest sparkling. Yet, for all his finery, the king shook his head sadly.

"This day should bring me hope," he began, his voice carrying the deep tones of an orator, "The sun rises in the sky, my people still live free. Yet all I can think is that it brings Him one day closer." The king turned his sea-blue eyes back to the city below, frowning behind his beard.

"My lord," a sharply dressed steward appeared at the door behind him, bowing deeply before continuing, "The first of the- the people you requested have arrived in the grand hall."

The king smiled weakly, nodding slightly to the servant before returning his gaze to the sea. "There may still be hope yet, then, Gerald."

The dark haired steward nodded, apparently used to his king's wistful sentiments. "There always is, my lord."

The robed man turned, clapping the thin servant on the shoulders. "That's why I like you, Gerald. You always know the right thing to say." Gerald only nodded, his face impassive. "And why don't we give these men their proper title, if we are to discuss them. They are heroes, Gerald, perhaps the greatest this world has ever seen."

Gerald sniffed, a look of uncertainty crossing his face, but he nodded nonetheless. "Shall I tell them to wait on you in the throne room, sire?"

"No, no, I'll be ready shortly," the king said, crossing the balcony, striding quickly towards the door. "See that they are attended to in the great hall; food, drinks, anything they desire. I shall inform you when I am ready to recieve them. We must make a good impression, no?"

The steward, baffled, followed the king through the doorway, the room beyond dim compared to the sunlit balcony. The king was already rummaging through several desk drawers, paper scattering his immaculate bedroom floor. "But, my lord, you are the King of Sunkeep, Father of the Church of the Light. Why all the concern for these mercenaries?"

The king paused, one arm elbow deep in a cabinet. "Because, Gerald, these men are not sellswords. I told you, they are heroes; the only hope we have left at beating back the Darkness." He rose, slowly, his robed form towering over the steward. "Tend to their every whim, my fine assistant, until I call for them. That is an order. Or would you rather be the Master of the Golden Kingdoms, and I a lowly servant?"

Gerald squeaked, bowing repeatedly as he backed out of the room, muttering apologies. The king sighed as the door closed, sitting heavily on his large, white bed. "Honestly, that man forgets himself too often. If he weren't such a damned good chamberlain he'd have been replaced years ago. I hope those heroes don't have as much trouble with him."

The king looked back at his desk, his heavy brow furrowing in thought. His azure eyes grew glassy, a grave air settling about him like a dark cloud. "A heavy burden those men bear," he said ominously, "May the Goddess, wherever She has gone, help them carry it. For us all, I pray they hurry."




Gerald smoothed his white coat, his thin face back to its impassive self. He crossed the long expanse of the grand hall with terse steps, walking alongside the brilliant yellow carpet that ran the length of the room. Other servants watched him as he passed, still setting trays and goblets on the many small tables that dotted the room. Behind each was a small collection of finely carven chairs, sitting patiently against the wall. Despite the morning light, braziers lined the walls beside the chairs, small plumes of purple smoke rising from their flames. A light smell of incense hung about the room.

More stained windows lined the white walls, their sparkling pictures capturing the tale of the Creation. The golden eyes of the Goddess stared down at the steward as he approached the double doors at the end of the hall, two massive oaken blocks carved and accented with yet more swirling patterns of gold. Pulling his white gloves tighter against his hands, Gerald grasped the two shining handles, pulling the heavy doors easily on their hinges.

Sunlight streamed into the hall, blinding Gerald for a moment. The steward recovered quickly, bowing to the sillhouttes waiting on the marble entryway outside. "Welcome to Castle Sunkeep," he began, stepping to the side as he straightened, waving the heroes in with one gloved hand. "Please, make yourself comfortable in the grand hall. The king shall see you shortly."




OOC: So, that's that. Most of you probably recieved word through rumors, or perhaps by your local lord, but after some investigating, you learned of the king's call. You've all come to Sunkeep, by some means or another, and have arrived bright and early at the castle, as per the instructions. You were checked by guards at the gate of the castle complex, making sure you weren't just some random peasant, and were asked to give some proof of your abilities. Despite this, you have not had much chance to speak to your fellow heroes, as you have only just been escorted to the castle doors. As you enter, you'll most likely notice the refreshments (and comely servants, both male and female) and wait for the king's call. Until then, feel free to chat a bit; once everyone has posted their introductions I'll have Gerald open the door to the throne room. ;)

Let me thank everyone again for their patience and participation. We've already come far in making this, now the fun part can begin. Cheers to everyone, and happy RPing! :D
Edited by Darkom, Jul 21 2011, 12:47 PM.
Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream. ~Mark Twain
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Evilpigeon
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OOC: Yay finally up :) Also, incase it isn't obvious: "Celaia addressing Skoll in her head", Skoll's commentary anything else in speechmarks is said aloud.

Other things: Inquisitors like using the possessed as guards when they partake in activities that are considered undesireable because the possessed are unable to bring charges against them nor be brought forth as credible witnesses. They're also inconspicous as compared to normal church soldiers as priests and priestesses can be found almost anywhere.

IC:

It was a fine day, the sort of weather in which Sunkeep truly reflected the way it was described in the stories: Vast and prosperous, full of light and life. Celaia kept her hood well down, the milk white stone of the Castle battlements was almost too bright to look upon. She hated the city when it was like this; all heroic, fluttering banners and glistening tile roofs seen from far enough away that the grit and grime of real life was invisible behind the pageantry of the fairytale kingdom. She preferred things greyer. When the city was slick with rain and most people were indoors she could roam the streets with the dregs of society, others for whom the Goddess was a harsh mistress. There were stories told about her; the Ghost Priestess who appeared only in harshest storms, trying for all eternity to reach a patient who’d long ago passed away. The details of the story varied wildly, though Celaia’s favourite was the tale of the Priestess who’d left her home on a dark and stormy night and had simply gotten lost in the twisting streets of Sunkeep, the patient’s identity was unimportant and the priestess put her life at risk only by accident. It just seemed more believable than the woolly fantasies and steamy tales of lost love that people loved to wrap about that thin framework.

I prefer the one we overheard the other night, you know when were standing guard whilst our Lord Inquisitor ‘prayed to the goddess’ it’s times like that when I wished I’d left you looking human.


“Fuck you Skoll.” Celaia flinched visibly, half expecting punishment for her mental lapse.

That’s it? You know you look quite pretty, hidden under that snow white robe of yours, though most people would find it an odd choice for mid-summer…


It didn’t take much for Skoll to get under Celaia’s skin, he knew exactly how she’d been programmed to react by the inquisition.Any though or action that went against the creator’s teachings was liable for retribution, it made her all the more infuriated that such an offhand comment had made her break them herself. Still, Skoll had been with her as long as she could remember and had helped survive. Admittedly it was quite difficult for him to leave and helping Celaia, as his host being, definitely benefitted Skoll as well but his actions were appreciated despite alterior motives. He was also the only other being she ever really got time to talk with, most humans, especially her fellow church members viewed her as an abomination. Even Skoll was preferable to isolation, keeping him talking was probably at least part of the reason she reacted so well to his taunts.

Besides he was right; she was sweltering.

"Welcome to Castle Sunkeep," the voice began,
Celaia started up, dislodging her hood. Through the tangle of others before her, she could just make out a thin servant in immaculate white, grandiosely waving them inside.
"Please, make yourself comfortable in the grand hall. The king shall see you shortly."

The group of people before her began to shuffle slowly forwards and so Celaia followed suite, pressing into those infront, eager to be inside and out of the sunlight.

Look at his face, the pretentious little git is hating it; a bunch of mercenaries and sweaty peasants being treated like honoured guests? We’re probably shattering his tiny mind, turning his narrow sense of hierarchy upside down like this. I doubt even the king is this enamoured with social status.

“The king is the mouth of the Goddess, it’s only right that we should look up to him”

Now that’s your handler talking, I wonder what a member of the Church has to gain by enforcing their own superiority hmm? Though I have to give them credit, they follow a god of peace and still manage to justify training an abomination like you to kill people for them.

“You know if I’m an abomination then you are as well…”

Don’t be ridiculous, I’m a perfectly natural, purebred demon. You on the other hand are a mutated freak of nature as far as humans are concerned.

“You’re a runt, why else would you be inhabiting a human?”

Better a runt than a mongrel.


“Fuck you Skoll…”
Edited by Evilpigeon, Jul 21 2011, 06:08 PM.
Whoever said nothing was impossible never tried to slam a revolving door
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Ambrose51
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The Resident Horror Enthusiast

Matthew stood patiently within the small crowd outside the doors to the castle's interior, an easy smile on his face. Inside, he was not so calm or happy. Being in this city brought back some... Unpleasant memories of his brief stay in Atlesia, before he had fled the capital city. While he knew Atlesia and Sunkeep were completely different in every way possible, it was still enough to unsettle him. The inner Atlesian in him, not to mention the training of his parents, was screaming at him to keep his guard up. Large cities were dangerous places, after all, and Atlesians were not well liked outside of Atlas. Not well liked at all.

He had been able to blow off a little steam when the guards had asked for a demonstration of his abilities, though. A small spell, just a little manipulation of his special substance, was all it had taken. It was a shame there had been no one else around to see it at the time, since he did like showing off his masterpiece.

Regardless, he was here now, and in a relatively safe place (The irony of a powerful Atlesian mage being safe in the presence of royalty was not lost on him. Others had been assassinated in such a manner before, after all.), so he had no reason to be paranoid. His smile simply became even more relaxed when a servant waved them inside. The man was rather formal looking and impassive, but it's not like Matthew would have expected anything else. If he were a servant of a royal palace, he wouldn't look forward to interacting with some of the faces in this crowd either.

He moved inside quickly, ahead of the rest, and took a place directly next to the entrance, on the left. He had no particular desire to interact with anyone just yet, and besides, he wouldn't want to get in anyone's way. He eyed some of the drinks available, but chose not to indulge. He hated alcohol, as would most mages, since a clouded mind would quickly lead to disaster if a spell needed to be cast. He did appreciate some of the many female servants, however, and he unconsciously smoothed out his brown coat, which was spotless and neat as always.

He was eyeing one rather pretty brunette servant in particular when his vision started to blur slightly. Fighting the urge to curse under his breath, he instead whispered a single line, "Let my body rest in your dominion..."

His eyes flashed for just a split-second with a small light, and the blurriness faded. With his vision once again perfect, his lips tilted into a half-smile, half-smirk, which he directed towards the brunette servant. She happened to glance at him just at that moment and blushed noticeably before looking away. Matthew just made a small humming sound in amusement as he truly began to let go of his early annoyances.
But mostly? The assorted plans at play here would be going very, very wrong due to the actions of a no-name, no-count, utterly talentless Magus by the name of Shirou Emiya. He had no magic worth mentioning, no combat experience of note, and no plan for or knowledge of the War he was about to enter. He did, however, have one trait that had derailed a countless number of such grand, far-reaching schemes throughout history.

You see, he really, really wanted to be a hero. -(Best description of the start of a Fate novel ever.)
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Colonel Mustard
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Lord of Facial Hair
There had been something wrong for the last couple of weeks. Something deep in his clay had been nagging at him, pulling and tugging persistently, and the simple fact that he had no idea what it was meant that it was making Duhos Oregember all the more irritated. He disliked a great deal of things, but mysteries held one of the highest positions in such a ranking. A foe he could slay with his glaive or raw strength, a spell he could, at the very least, understand and a riddle he could work out sooner or later. But a mystery like this was not so simple. He liked simplicity. Simplicity was workable, it was manageable, and it was easy. This was none of those things.

And so, Duhos had listened. To the peasants that would not react to his presence with fear, awe or panic, he had paid heed to their rumours. Those nobles that would repay his mercenary work with information had their messages read by the immense man of clay. Those priests whose presence he could bear told him what little they knew. Gradually, over the weeks, the words that soon spread from every lip had reached Duhos, and he knew immediately what was at fault.

‘She is gone.’

The Goddess was gone from the world, abandoned it while the Old Foe marched upon the lands and spread his dread plagues. It was the answer that he had wanted, abolishing the mystery that had pestered at his mind for the past for weeks, and part of him was now wishing that he hadn’t had it solved.

Part of him wandered what he was to do with him. He was tempted, so very tempted, to take up his glaive, march against the hordes of the Dark One and pile their corpses high, but he knew that it would be a fruitless attempt; he was the First, mightiest of the Oregember, but even they had failed. He had failed, and his fruitless death would not be neought o atone. He would have to do better.

And so finally, the word had reached him. The master of the city of Sunkeep was calling a meeting, sending out a cry for heroes and warriors to halt the forces of the Dark One. More information had come; they were not to lead armies, no, they were to do so much more. They were to risk it all, go into the unknown so that they might find the Goddess’ place of exile, so that she might return.

Siren-like, redemption called to the old Golem.

#

The guards had been told to expect the unusual. They had not been told to expect a walking statue, however. Halberds in hand, their breastplates fixed and helmets placed firmly over their heads, they stood before the golem and felt completely and utterly lost.

“The call was sent for heroes, was it not?” Duhos Oregember rumbled with a voice like a mountain falling. “Here stands one. Let me pass.”

There was an uncomfortable look passed between the guards, before one of them said; “We were expecting more, you know, usual heroes.”

“A hero is not usual, he is merely a hero,” Duhos replied. “Now you will let me pass.”

“The king gave orders people had to prove themselves,” one of the other soldiers replied. “We can’t just be letting anyone in.”

Duhos leant towards the man, staring at him eye to eye. The soldier did well for a man looking into two smouldering embers gouged into crude clay pits, before Duhos rumbled; “I am not privy to your demands, mortal. Allow me passage and audience with you king.”

“You’ve got to prove yourself,” the soldier protested, dogmatic adherence to orders overriding survival instincts. “Those’re the rules.”

In reply, a fist swept out and knocked him to the ground. It was not swift, but it was inexorable, hard to dodge and even harder to stop, moving like a falling tree and knocking the wind from him. The second guard found himself unable to move before the thick blade of Duhos’ glaive was pressed against his throat.

“I will pass,” the golem said. “You will not attempt to stop me.”

They did not, and Duhos stepped through the threshold. He passed across the courtyard, drawing stares from servant, squire and knight alike, before stepping into the great hall.

“Welcome to Castle Sunkeep,” he heard someone say, some sort of servant. “Please, make yourself comfortable in the grand hall. The king shall see you shortly.”

Duhos eyed the display of foodstuff and drinks semi-interestedly, before disdaining them; he had no need of food. Instead, he decided it would be as good a time as any to wait and see who else here would be amongst these heroes.
"Pillage, then burn."-Rule 1 of Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
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Duke Smugleaf
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The city of Sunkeep...It has been some time since my last visit here, almost fifty-four years, I think, and it has not changed a bit. It is still just as bright, shiny, and annoyingly pristine. I suppose it is not all bad. At least you can be sure that you are probably not going to die here. At least not right away. I suppose that is always a good thing.

Victoria hovered through the streets of the alabaster city having left her room at the inn rather later than she'd hoped due to some complications with not quite understanding what time it was. After cursing under her breath about how there should be more sundials around, she hurried off towards the castle getting peculiar looks from the townspeople on the way due to her levitation, though she was used to it by now and barely even noticed anymore. Luckily, the castle wasn't too far away, so she wouldn't be too late.

Arriving at the castle gates, she was stopped by two guards.

"Halt! If you be a hero here for the quest, you must...prove...your...uh...are...Are you floating?"

I don't have time for this, Victoria spoke telepathically before stepping through the folds of dimensional space and instantaneously appearing behind the guards.

Proceeding onward, Victoria seemed to arrive just in time as the doors were opening right as she hovered up to the crowd, though she missed whatever the servant had said, not that she particularly cared. As the people at the front of the group started pouring in, Victoria merely teleported past them all, landing in the center of the hall. Disappointed to see that the king was not already present to greet them, Victoria simply floated where she was, waiting for something to happen.

Looking around, she did notice the grand architecture of the interior of the castle, being thoroughly unimpressed. It seemed, in her opinion, to be nothing more than a slight improvement on the various other stone structures in the city, and the yellow carpet was quite unsightly. They could have at least gone with gold, but yellow was a very poor choice. The purple flames were a nice touch, though.
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quirk
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James was rather stunned by the situation he found himself in, as he stood outside the doors of the castle, waiting to enter. He had never expected to see the walls of Castle Sunkeep again, let alone one day step inside its walls. To be able to see inside this structure of civilization, famous for its power throughout the Golden Kingdoms, was inspiring. Even the city itself was an entirely different world from Sartheria, a place of military camps and tucked away farms. Perhaps we could build a city, He thought to himself, as the servant spoke and the doors of the castle opened.

He supposed his life had changed to match, though. For most his life, he'd been simply a pupil, or a son. But now, it seemed, the guards who had tested him in his arrival inside seemed to have a different word: hero. He had never particularly thought of such an idea, but he came to like the idea of it as he thought more about it. It wasn't arrogance if it was true, right?

He wandered away from such thoughts, however, when he was inside. Seeing the refreshments on the table, he decided to grab a drink, never being one to opt out of free hospitality. He stepped over to the table, but found himself looking between the different drinks with some confusion. After a moment, he opted for a glass of the reddish wine. Wine was still proper to drink in noble company, right? He shrugged to himself, pouring a small glass.

"Sir, I can handle that for you," one of the servants said, quickly walking over towards him.

"Um...sorry, I prefer to handle my own drinks," he said, slightly shaking the glass to emphasize he'd already poured it. "If you can show me where any biscuits might be, though, that would be great." The servant paused for only a second, before she showed him further down the same table. He smiled a bit. This might not be so bad, he thought.
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Half Tooth
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OOC: I've decided to do a test with Scylliria's speech. To get the full effect of it you should read it alloud to yourself because it sounds ridiculous. If it's too difficult to read I'll change it, or maybe start adding what she says in proper speech in brackets underneith.
Also, when a hard consonant is missing from the middle of a word I've put an apostrophe.

IC: At least you can still see the sea. Scylliria thought, before quickly turning her attention to the city around her. She wanted to note everything down right then, the crowds, the hussle and bussle, the way merchants were trying to sell their wares, the jingle of coins. It was all so exciting, she began to head up towards the castle but she just couldn't help herself. Leaning back against a wall she pulled out her journal and made a quick sketch of the castle, she really wanted to add some colour but decided keeping the king waiting any longer would not be a good idea.

At Sunkeep castle gates she was stopped.

"Are you trying to get to the meeting of Heroes?"

Scylliria nodded.

"We need proof of skill."

She turned her head towards the sea momentarily before pulling her glaive from her back and performing a series of cartwheels and swirls whilst swinging her glaive about her in fast spinning circles.

"Wonderful... Go on through." The guard said with all the enthusiasm of a flat puffer fish. Scylliria smiled to herself, making a mental note to scribble down the attitudes of human guards in her book.

As she entered the grand hall she got the feeling she was late but she was still greeted warmly by a soft looking female servant.

"The King will be with us shortly, would you like some food or drink while you wait?"

Hesitating, Scylliria replied "I woul lie someing swee. We on't have mush swee foo in our ci'ies."

The servant stared at her blankly for a moment, looking like she was really trying not to laugh.

"This way madam." She gestured to a grand table laden with all kinds of colourful foods. Scylliria wasn't used to so many colours in food. The Tsydra ate little more than fish and vegetation from the sea. That was not the only thing that stood out to her at the table. Not only was there a floating woman, but there was also what appeared to be a living statue about 7 feet tall. Instantly she was overcome with the desire to start making notes about him, was he one of the people she’d be travelling with? She certainly hoped so, she wanted to sketch him. She wanted to study all of them actually. They looked like a pretty interesting collection of humans.

Scylliria sat down and picked at a piece of honey cake, the sugary flavour dancing delightfully on her tongue.
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James
Caffeinated
Wayne examined the intimidating structure that was the Castle of Sunkeep, he could see why the Kings of the golden kingdoms had rallied there. Defendable, Strategic, and Grand it was undeniably a masterpiece of what humankind could accomplish. He let his travel robe flutter loose around him as he climbed steps. He noticed that more people were coming down the steps than walking up and he saw why when he reached the crest of the steps. Armed guards were turning away civilians letting only those who seemed most capable through. He slipped between the people wandering around and approached the guards,

“Hold, only champions are permitted entrance, and by the looks of y’a, you are no hero.”

“How certain of that are you?” when enquired sarcastically, using his arm to prush his robe aside revealing the rapier on his waist.

“We don’t care how shiny of a sword you –“ the guard began before looking down where his belt had been sliced and his pants were beginning to slide down.

He cursed as his partner began to snicker and Wayne walked past him humming a tune.

The was a man at a door,
Quite a beast, what a boar.
Waste of time, lost a belt,
What a small hand he was dealt.

Wayne glanced around the hall, he had been many magnificent places, from the city of Atlesia to ruins forgotten by all but a select few, but Sunkeep hall rivalled many of those marvels. Even Atlesian architects would be challenged to replicate the awe inspiring work and he took a moment to appreciate its grandeur. Exhaling, he looked about the room looking for who else was probably there for the meeting of heros.

Number of Poems Written in the name of roleplaying, count: 1
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Darkom
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The Grand Hall of Castle Sunkeep; Mid-Morning, March 1st, 1066 AL

Gerald studied the "heroes" as they made their way into the grand hall with an air of growing amazement. A few seemed ordinary enough- two of the men seemed more like scholars than champions of humanity- but the rest made his usually impassive face go wide with awe. 'A Tsydra, here on dry land? And a fiery haired woman that's- that's floating?' Gerald had seen magic before- the city had an academy for mages, afterall- but never had he seen someone suddenly appear, hovering a few feet above the stone floor. Perhaps the most jaw-dropping sight of all, however, was the tower of living stone that had walked only a few feet in front of him. 'By the Goddess...'

In his years as the king's steward, Gerald had met royalty from across the Golden Kingdoms. He had entertained guests from as far north as Themis, he had kept a meeting of nobles from the Divided Isles from killing each other during a treaty banquet. But he had never seen the likes of these so called heroes. It was all he could do not to gape openly at the crowd that was now milling about within the grand hall.

'Come now,' he thought, composing himself as best he could, 'The king needs you.' Gerald shook his head, his face becoming a polite mask once more. The thin steward dusted off his spotless white coat, licking his lips nervously before walking towards the center of the grand hall, careful to give the animated pile of clay plenty of berth. 'What in All World is that thing, anyway?'

Gerald turned sharply, studying each of the assembled heroes in turn. None had said more than a few words, and even those were for the servants. It was obvious that they had no interest in talking amongst themselves. Truthfully, the steward did not blame them; he did not want to speak to any of the heroes either. Even the seemingly ordinary ones left him feeling uneasy; if they had been gathered in the same group as a walking boulder, what kind of powers must they have?

The steward shook his head again, making sure not to meet any of the champions' eyes. Instead, he focused his gaze on the magnificent windows, taking comfort in their familiar array of colors. His eyes eventually came to rest on the largest one, directly above the great double doors of the hall, depicting the Goddess in all her resplendent glory. A sorrowful frown tugged at his lips. 'Why did You leave us?' he wondered, not for the first time.

Gerald sighed, banishing the thought from his mind. He could do nothing to change it; those chosen few stood in an array around him. 'What a weight to have on their shoulders,' he thought, looking overtly at each. 'The fate of the world. I wonder if they know how serious this really is?'

The steward was brought out of his musings by a sudden voice behind him. "Sir," the voice began, little more than a whisper. Gerald turned to face it, smiling when he recognized one of the king's many messengers, a young boy just into his teens. "Sir, the king sent me. His majesty asks that the guests be brought in. He is ready to recieve them in the throne room." The boy waited anxiously, his eyes darting towards the assemblage further down the hall.

Gerald nodded, dismissing the boy with a wave of his gloved hand, a relieved smile on his face. His part was nearly over; soon this strange group would be the king's to worry about. He turned back to face the heroes, his back straight, all emotion drained from his face. The steward cleared his throat loudly, waiting until all eyes were on him before continuing. "The king shall now recieve you in his throne room. Please, follow me."

With that, the thin steward turned sharply around, beginning a deliberate walk towards the doors at the other end of the hall. Though not as large as the exterior doors, the oaken gateway to the throne room was far more elaborate. Swirling carvings, gilded in a dark gold, dominated the wood, creating a decorated outline of the sun bursting over a hilltop. Gerald marched down the long yellow carpet, the strands shining in the light, his steps clicking out a staccato that echoed throughout the hall. The other servants grew silent as he passed, retreating to the edges of the room as the procession made its way towards the double doors. Then, with an exaggerated air, the steward grasped the golden doorhandles, pressing forwards into the throne room.




The throne room of Castle Sunkeep was designed by the founder of the Church of the Light, the Holy King Michael the Pious, at the beginning of the Age of Light, over a thousand years ago. Always a man worthy of his title, the first ruler of Sunkeep built the room as a tribute to the Goddess Herself. While other kings draw attention to themselves with raised platforms and majestic thrones, the Lord of Sunkeep sits upon plain wood. The focus, instead, is upon the magnificent window built behind the throne, the sunburst sigil of the Goddess lit from behind by the light of dawn. Rays of light, golden in the dusty air, shine down upon the king seated below, reflecting off his crown and creating a faint halo behind his head.

The remainder of the room makes a complete circle, seven columns equally spaced along the exterior, each holding a statue of one of the founding figures of the Church. The first, King Michael, stares down resolutely from his marble perch, his hands folded in prayer before his stone robes. The rest, all of them kings, each famous in their own right, gaze down upon the throne, a constant reminder of the kingdom's glorious past. The seventh dias sits empty, an equally powerful reminder of the future, a challenge to each monarch to earn his place among his ancestors.

The current king, descended directly from the great men that lined the room, sat atop his intricately carven throne, straightening as the doors opened. His steward was the first one to enter, stepping to the side as soon as the door was open, revealing the king's first glimpse of the heroes he had prayed for. The tall man's first thought was of how few there were; barely over half a dozen, by his count, and they were meant to be the world's salvation? His confidence returned, however, as they stepped further into the room. Each one seemed more impressive than the last, each of them dangerous looking in their own right. And yet, was it enough?

'It will have to be,' the king thought, his face hardening. He gripped the wooden arms of his throne, worn smooth by generations of hands, taking comfort in the familiar feel of the grain. 'This is my part,' he closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself, 'I have done all that I can do to prepare them for the journey ahead; the rest is up to them.'

Finally, the king stood, his golden robed arms spread wide in welcome. "Greetings, my friends," he began warmly, stepping towards the gathering of heroes. "This is an auspicious day, one that will surely go down in the legends of mankind as the beginning of a noble journey. Today you set off on your quest to save the world." The king laughed- a rich, deep sound that echoed from the stone walls. "And yet the sun rises on it just like every other, and the world goes on. Make no mistake, though, every citizen of Sunkeep prays for your success, myself included."

"But I forget myself," the king smiled, finally reaching the group, "Sometimes this crown makes me forget my manners. I, as you well know, am King Richard, Lord of Sunkeep, Father of the Church of the Light. Yet today I am, for all my titles and servants, at your service, my brave champions. For, as I said, you are our saviors. You have gathered here today to answer my call, my message to heroes the world over, and for that alone I am forever in your debt."

The king's affable smile grew stern, his friendly air made stoic by a long, depressing sigh. He turned his tired eyes, before so cheery and light, to the faces of the heroes. "You have come because the Goddess has left us," he said solemnly. "You have come because the Lord of the Dark marches down from the north, and for all our armies we are powerless to stop him. And yet, I still hold hope for this world, because you have come." A faint smile lifted the king's beard, his eyes twinkling beneath thick brows. "I do not tell you this to dishearten you, my friends; no, quite the opposite. I state the gravity of our situation to motivate you. Yours' is the noblest, most important quest in the history of the Golden Kingdoms: a quest to save the world."

"There are many things I wish I could tell you," the king went on, pacing back towards his large wooden throne, "But even I do not know what you will face. Your journey shall take you east, past the jungles of the Medra, on a hunt for a god we have only rumors of. You shall stop first in Wellay, where Duke Chaucer will tell you more of the details, and from there you shall travel by Tsydrian boat along the southern coast." The king nodded at the one Sea Elf in their midst; he had expected the Tsydra would send a representative, though for her to be in Sunkeep was a surprise. "You shall be well supplied, and well recieved by every port along the way. Once you reach the Medra, however, not even I can say what you shall find."

The king stopped, an embarrassed smile wrinkling his features. "I apologize, I have a habit of long winded speeches. It comes with the job, I suppose." The tall man chuckled, clasping his hands behind his back, fingering the golden ring on his finger absently. "As I said, the Duke of Wellay will tell you more. For now, do you have any questions for me?"




OOC: Phew, my apologies once more for the long post. I wanted to fit enough of the king's speech in there, but it was growing quite lengthy. There are a few more things he needs to tell you, but you all know the gist of it already. This is just so your characters have a reason to know. Feel free to talk amonst yourselves or to the king, the important thing is just moving past these formalities so we can start the free form portion of the RP. :)

Thanks everyone. ;)
Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream. ~Mark Twain
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Ambrose51
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The Resident Horror Enthusiast

"The king shall now recieve you in his throne room. Please, follow me."

Matthew maintained his easy smile at the words of the servant. He had been ignoring the others in the room so far, content to observe, and while his expression hadn't changed on the outside, he had to admit that he was very impressed by the golem. The elf was a curiosity as well, since he had never seen one before, although the floating woman that had teleported in was equally as interesting, even if Matthew had to suppress the desire to roll his eyes at the nonchalant display of power. The others were nothing notable, or at least not outwardly. He'd be willing to bet, however, that all of them were unique in some way and worthy of observation. The golem was the most interesting so far, however, and he would have to make sure and ask it some questions at some point in the future. History had always been an interest of his, after all.

As the others began to follow after the servant that had spoken, Matthew followed them all, near the back of the group, this time. He made sure to wink at the servant girl he had been looking at before, but otherwise tried to remain as neutral as possible in his expression. A small smile, just enough to seem pleasant but not enough to attract attention. Though in this crowd, smiling at all might seem strange, he thought in annoyance.

He took his place in the throne room next to the others and listened patiently to what the King had to say. He had no particular like for the King of Sunkeep, or of royalty in general, for that matter, but kept to his polite expression nonetheless. There was a nagging in the back of his mind of just how easy it would be to kill the man on the spot, though, and he couldn't believe that the King could be so naive as to let this many obviously powerful people into his presence without a hoard of guards. Such a thing would never happen in Atlas. A very simple spell would be all that was necessary, and not even that for some of the people in the room.

He cut that train of thought immediately. He wasn't here to kill anyone, and after all, this wasn't Atlas. Things were different here, obviously. The only thing that might have even hinted at such less than pure ideas was a small, almost unnoticeable twitch to his eye.

After the King had finished speaking, Matthew waited a few moments to see if anyone else would speak up, and then decided to voice his own question, "There have been many... Rumors floating around about the war in the northern kingdoms. The people of my country do not normally pay much attention to the world outside of our borders, and so I must ask, since you would likely have a much better idea than any common citizen or mercenary. In full honesty, how long do we have, do you think, until the hordes of the Dark Lord overwhelm us?"

It was a simple enough question, but one that Matthew truly wished to know the answer to, as the officials in Atlas had preferred to pretend that nothing was happening at all.

But mostly? The assorted plans at play here would be going very, very wrong due to the actions of a no-name, no-count, utterly talentless Magus by the name of Shirou Emiya. He had no magic worth mentioning, no combat experience of note, and no plan for or knowledge of the War he was about to enter. He did, however, have one trait that had derailed a countless number of such grand, far-reaching schemes throughout history.

You see, he really, really wanted to be a hero. -(Best description of the start of a Fate novel ever.)
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Half Tooth
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"The king shall now recieve you in his throne room. Please, follow me."

Scylliria slammed her notebook shut, she'd been making observations fn the food served, the table decoration, the architecture, everything around her was fascinating. But she turned her mind away from her fascinations and towards the King.

As she headed into the thrown room she was reminded of her reason for undertaking this leviathan of a task. As soon as she had felt her ancestor's leave the ocean she had headed for their capital underwater city of Urio and it seemed she was not the only one. All Tsydra that had been in the water had done exactly the same thing, headed to Urio to voice their confusion and anxieties. Where had they gone and why? Why would they leave, they had been there for thousands of years what had suddenly changed? The sea had become a darker place, where it had once felt like home it now felt like a void.

Then word from the mainland had come that the Goddess of Light had left their world, which meant the Dark Lord could do what he willed. Which left her wondering, did her ancestor's leave with the Goddess? Or did the Dark Lord take them for his own? Whatever the reason she had to return them to the sea.

The King seemed a nice enough person, tired but wise to the ways of the world, much like her many of her own race. She had a question though:

"Are there any humans that remember the point where the Goddess left us? And what was it like?"
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Colonel Mustard
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He was quietly impressed by what he saw.

Most of the people before him were not particularly prepossessing physically, but there were a few who caught his eyes; the floating girl covered in swirling tattoos, and the Tsydra that had stolen a few furtive glimpses at him. There were others, though; he could feel power in the blonde haired, frail looking young man, while the girl who stood at the edge of the room with a slightly uncomfortable look on her face was…there was something strange about her, something he could feel in it his clay. He had no idea what it was, even with his innately magical nature, and instead he resolved to keep his eye on her.

“The king shall now receive you in his throne room. Please, follow me.”

The words came from the same steward who had greeted them, who proceeded to lead Duhos and the others into the throne room. He looked over the room briefly, before deciding that it did not compare with the grand finery of old Disolthrem. No matter.

He listened to what the king had to say with some interest; much of it he already knew, and while he was glad that there was confirmation, real, solid confirmation that he might find the Goddess. When the king asked for questions, he had none; he felt keen to get going, to track Her down as soon as possible.

The Sea Elf spoke, however, in her strange tongue; “Are there any humans that remember the point where the Goddess left us? And what was it like?”

“I may answer that question,” he rumbled. “Though I suspect that I do not qualify as human. Not too long ago, I felt a strange feeling in my clay, one of emptiness and loss. I knew not what it was, and for some time I sought answers to the question. Eventually, I found it was the loss of the Goddess; she was invoked in my creation, thus I have a strong link to her, and she has never been gone in such a way, in all my thousands of years. There was something amiss for some time, though I did not know what it was.”

He chuckled deeply.

“But I ramble,” he said. “I would say two months, perhaps two and a half.




OOC: This a reasonable timeframe? Or shall I edit it to make it more workable with the story?
"Pillage, then burn."-Rule 1 of Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
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Darkom
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The Throne Room of Castle Sunkeep; Mid-Morning, March 1st, 1066 AL

The assemblage of heroes was a long time in responding to the king. He looked to each of them twice before one finally spoke; an unassuming blonde man, near the back of the group. 'An Atlesian, by the looks of him,' the king thought, noting the man's posture and accent more than his features. He seemed honest enough, for an Atlesian, but his question was one of complete gravity.

"There have been many... Rumors floating around about the war in the northern kingdoms. The people of my country do not normally pay much attention to the world outside of our borders, and so I must ask, since you would likely have a much better idea than any common citizen or mercenary. In full honesty, how long do we have, do you think, until the hordes of the Dark Lord overwhelm us?"

The king sighed, his face slacking into an expression of complete exhaustion. The young man had asked the very question that had weighed on the king's mind every day since the Goddess left. How long, indeed?

"No, your rulers would not have told you, would they? Well, it is a question in the heart of every man in the Golden Kingdoms, and is of special concern to you, considering your mission. I am afraid to say, however, that despite our best efforts, we cannot say for certain." The king's face was stern, solemn, but his eyes were grim. "The armies of our Enemy grow stronger by the day, while we are weakened by disease and hunger. Nearly every soldier in the Golden Kingdoms has begun the journey to Themis, and yet we still think it will not be enough to stop Him."

The king stepped closer to the Atlesian. He wanted to berate the man- Atlas was one of the few kingdoms that sent no help- but he could not. One man could not be held responsible for the crimes of a country, afterall. His tone remained even, but the king's mouth formed a hard line as he continued. "All we can do is buy more time. It is you- all of you- that hold our true hope. The priests and scholars say we may have less than a year before the Darkness breaks through, and drowns the world in blood. That is why you must hurry." The king finished ominously, knowing full well how grim he sounded. These were grim times, afterall.

Richard returned to the fore of the group, watching the heroes, praying that his words would give resolve, not fright. For a moment all was silent, each considering the weight behind the king's words. Then, much to the king's surprise, the lone Tsydra of the group spoke out, her words garbled but understandable. "Are there any humans that remember the point where the Goddess left us? And what was it like?"

The king winced; he remembered the day all too well. He had been in the castle's church at the time, praying by himself. The everpresent light at the front of the room, a golden globe hovering above the altar, had flickered, like a candle sputtering in the breeze. Richard had watched, horrified, as the magical globe dropped, its light extinguished forever, and broke on the altar. The priests had run out, shouting; many had begun to weep before the king could discover the cause of their distress. The power, the light that all of them held had vanished. The comforting voice that always whispered in their ear was gone, silenced. The Goddess, they claimed, was gone.

Richard was shaken from his memories as another member of the party spoke. A deep, rumbling voice; distant, as if heard from the bowels of a cave. The creature made of stone could indeed talk. “I may answer that question,” he began, capturing the room's attention immediately. “Though I suspect that I do not qualify as human. Not too long ago, I felt a strange feeling in my clay, one of emptiness and loss. I knew not what it was, and for some time I sought answers to the question. Eventually, I found it was the loss of the Goddess; she was invoked in my creation, thus I have a strong link to her, and she has never been gone in such a way, in all my thousands of years. There was something amiss for some time, though I did not know what it was.” A strange sound, like two boulders rubbing against one another, filled the chamber. The king was a moment in realizing it was the stone-man, laughing. “But I ramble,” he said. “I would say two months, perhaps two and a half.

The king could only nod, his eyes trained on the fiery pits gouged into the creature's face. "That..." he paused, fumbling for a moment, "Is correct. The priests say She left suddenly, like the tether between Her and this world had been cut. We do not yet know the full effects of this loss, though the most important one is obvious: the Lord of the Dark is loose. Beyond that, we have only rumors." Richard looked back to the Tsydra; he had heard of their loss as well. Though he did not understand their strange ways, he could appreciate what it must have felt like to lose touch with their strongest link to the past. "Your people say they have been affected as well, though I have not heard the details."



OOC: Alright, so, if you haven't replied to the king at all yet, I'd appreciate at least one post before we move on. Richard did give you his name, afterall. It is only polite to at least extend the same courtesy in return. ;) Feel free to ask any other questions you have for the king.

Also, if you would like to hold a side conversation with another character, I'm sure they'd appreciate the incentive to make a post. The king won't mind, I'm certain.

Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream. ~Mark Twain
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James
Caffeinated
“By us do you mean the world, or Atlas,” Wayne asked sarcastically of the well kept scholarly man; his voice lingering on Atlas with the emphasis you would give to a plague. “Atlas won’t mobilize so it will be the last country with defences,” Wayne added, his voice revealing his contempt towards his birth place, “if that helps the rest of us non-Atlesians feel better about imminent death.” His statement wasn’t a lie, Atlesian citizenship was offered to any the generals thought were useful, the runaway son of a noble was by no means useful and his citizenship had probably been stricken from the records. Having gotten the frustration out of his system he turned to the King,

“First let me thank your hospitality,” he said gesturing his arm wide towards the servants and decor, “and I’d agree with your clerics and advisors, I’ve heard many dark stories about evil gods and it never bodes well for us mere mortals”
Number of Poems Written in the name of roleplaying, count: 1
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quirk
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James, having stayed quiet, looking around at those he found with him before the king. He was, quite honestly, awestruck. Elves, rock creatures, and a woman who could...float? He found his place here almost awkward, compared to those around him. However, he let that slip into the back of his mind, as he listened to the exchanges happening before him. Clearly, the king was a man troubled by the events which seized the world at this time. It showed in his face. The others were somewhat harder to read, though to be fair, a few were completely alien to him altogether.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. "Sir, I do have one question I would like to ask, if you'd be so kind as to answer," he said, looking up towards the king. "What prompts us to search towards the east for the goddess in the first place? I know you said that the Duke shall have more to tell us, but be honest, if you can. Do we have a location in mind? Or is this a blind search?"
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Half Tooth
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Scylliria listened solemly to the King and the Golem's answer. "That is sad." She replied simply. Although her tone hadn't really changed a chill emantaed from her. "We are keen to bring back our ancestors."
The questions being asked here very very big, much like the discussions that had taken place back in Urio, although everyone had been worried there had been little panicing. The Tsydra had voiced their opinions and questions as everyone was doing now.... with a resigned acceptance but also with some determination.

At the question of their mission being a blind search, she watched the king expectantly. This was why she had been sent, although she really didn't want to admit it to anyone here, she needed the help of humans. Her people knew little about the gods, they cared only about their ancestors and the sea.
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Ambrose51
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The Resident Horror Enthusiast

Matthew's thin smile wavered a bit at the King's words. Less than a year? Things were terrible indeed if the combined might of most of All-World couldn't hold back the tides of darkness. He was suddenly very glad that he had not gone in that direction to aid instead. No savior would come forth there, no miracle. Only death. At the very least their current journey had a ghost of a chance of succeeding, even if they had no idea of where they were truly going. And even if they didn't succeed, a death out in the unknown would probably be kinder than whatever would happen to the people of All-World once the armies of the Golden Kingdoms failed. The fate of the world really does rest in us, then... Truly, I'm filled with confidence already, the Atlesian thought, looking around at the figures that surrounded him.

“By us do you mean the world, or Atlas? Atlas won’t mobilize so it will be the last country with defenses, if that helps the rest of us non-Atlesians feel better about imminent death.”

Matthew winced at the man's tone, and waiting for him to finish speaking to the King before he even began formulating a response.

"Atlas is merely looking out for its own best interests, as it always does. Surely you didn't think they would have any other response?" the scholarly man asked of his fellow Atlesian. He could tell the man was from there, given the accent. It was rather unique among the kingdoms of All-World, after all.

"Well, one would think that Atlas would be willing to help when the world is ending. There's nothing left to conquer if everyone is dead, after all," the bard responded, his tone scathing in its criticism of his home country.

Matthew truly had nothing left to say to that. At the very least, however, the people around him would be convinced that he didn't hold the same opinion as those that ruled Atlas. He wouldn't have come here in the first place, if that had been the case.
But mostly? The assorted plans at play here would be going very, very wrong due to the actions of a no-name, no-count, utterly talentless Magus by the name of Shirou Emiya. He had no magic worth mentioning, no combat experience of note, and no plan for or knowledge of the War he was about to enter. He did, however, have one trait that had derailed a countless number of such grand, far-reaching schemes throughout history.

You see, he really, really wanted to be a hero. -(Best description of the start of a Fate novel ever.)
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