Roleplay > The Other World

Region on the Coast

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Holy King:
Duke Faustino Ozan Yorgos Carrara sat up in his bed, finally awake after a night's sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he got up and began to head into his restroom, which itself was a sprawling white room, decorated with rugs decorated with the finest patterns, furs of exotic beasts like the Great Bear of K'svat and the deadly wolf of the Ghost Forest, and the greatest thing for him at the least, the fine tree of the Bloodmarsh, emitting a pleasant smell like that off the sweetest fruit known to man, although eating the fruit from the fine tree would result in death of whoever was unfortunate enough to consume one. Entering the bath, he threw a log onto a firepit, heating up the bath to a nice warm temperature. Faustino began to think of the great city he ruled, Sybos, a great city of nearly a million souls. The city itself comprised of two parts, the old and new city was built on the ruins of a vast kingdom, long forgotten. With two walls, both nearing 100 men tall, have carvings of stories and battles. With the first wall being called "Lovers Wall" protecting the commonfolk from any threats, and the inner wall, being callled "Rich man's Wall", protecting the higher born citizens. Faustino sighed and got out of the bath, blowing out the firepit on his way out.

Combing his dark, curly hair along with his mustache, he threw on a black robe, covered in patterns of diamonds and other shapes. Along with this and a cap with the same features of the shirt, he threw on a red sash, holding a curved sword in a golden sheathe embedded with diamonds  and rubies and other gems. He put on his sandals, and began to walk down the staircase towards the open garden of his palace, where his children would play with one another. He watched them as they ran, chasing each other with wooden swords, atleast until they saw him, in which they dropped their fake weapons and towards him exclaimed "Dad!", which as much love a child could give their father. Embracing his three boys, he stopped to look around before asking "Do you know where your sister is?" The oldest, Antonios, a boy of 13 years responded before his brothers, "Last I saw of Sabrina she was mom." "And do you know where your mother is?", he asked him once more. "The throne room, I think." Faustino sighed and rubbed his eldest sons head before sending them back to play. Walking to the main hall of the palace, began to think more of city, of how in the center of the western sect, near the Tower of Blue Cross, there was a small statue of an old hero clutching a spear. The statue itself was unimportant, but the story it told captivated Faustino as it was a story about how an old hero of the empire managed to defeat the oncoming hoards of barbarians by himself only to be turned on by one of his friends. Faustino wasn't quite sure why that certain story stuck with him, but it had oddly enough, maybe because he felt like that was his father? By the time he reached the throne room, these thoughts clouded his mind until he heard his musicians playing, playing a song that was pleasant to his ears the same way the fine tree was to his nose. Seeing his wife, along with his missing daughter of seven years, he kissed them both before taking his seat on his throne, if it could be called that as it was a series of cushions that helped his back as well as his neck once he sat on it, he looked to the musicians who had stopped playing once he entered, and nodded to let them know to keep playing, which they did to his satisfaction. As he was lying on the cushions, a soft breeze blew in from the outside, moving the white transparent drapes like ghosts dancing to the music. The duke closed his eyes, and drifted into sleep.

Awake now, Faustino heard his name being called, not by his wife, but rather his Imperial Mage. The white robes and the face mask with the blue cross did not show any sign of humanity, and Faustino would've certainly believed they were not human had he not lay with a Imperial Mage girl in his youth. "What is that you ask of me, Sir Nedim?" Sir Nedim, removed his mask, showing an old face clinging to his skull with a small beard, spotted white with age, and answered to his lord, "There is a messenger from the east, wishing to speak with you, and you only as he did not seemingly answer to the guards." Suspicious, Duke Faustino replied back to wise mage, "Bring him in, but not alone sir." Nedim put back his mask and nodded, walking towards the outside of the main entrance. In his place, two guards entered, clad in mail and chain, holding spears and a ragged man, covered in chain and mail, although severely burnt and ruined. "Speak good sir, why have you traveled this long way only for my presence?" The ragged man went on his, and began to grovel to the duke. "O My Lord! Please forgive us! I am Sir Rivan of the Western Watch of the city of Iskar! Earlier this day, a great beast attacked us, burning the city nigh to ash in a single noon! Our Lord Commander, sent me here to ask of you, in your greatness to assist us as our liege lord did nothing! I ask of thee O Great One, please take pity!"The room fell silent as the man spoke his tale. "A beast? By the beast to you mean dragon or another beast Sir Rivan?" The weary knight looked at him, with some hope in his eyes. "Yes! Yes, a dragon fell on us, that is why we have come here, O Great One!" "I offer my condolences, Sir Rivan" the duke said coldly, "But I am afraid I cannot do a thing as Iskar falls within another dukes' control. I can offer you this however." The duke stood up in one quick motion, heading down the steps of his throne," I shall call in mercenaries, monster hunters, whatever you may call them, but I shall assist you, Sir Rivan. You may stay here if you wish, or you may wish to go back to your Lord Commander and tell him of the news, either way I shall assist you in this threat." Sir Rivan could do nothing as tears began to stream down his face, before jumping up and exclaiming, "I-I shall tell Lord Commander then! O Great One, we will sing stories of you until the sun never rises again!" He bowed, before the guards who had taken him in escorted him out of the palace. "Call the guild, Lord Fulivo, tell them I wish for the best of the monster hunters." Lord Fulivo nodded before walking off. "Lets see what the best actually is however.", Duke Faustino Ozan Yorgos Carrara, Lord of Sybos and the Wide Plains of U'lkin, Slayer of the Red Demon, Layer of the Goddess, said to himself climbing up to his throne said to himself.


OOC- Just create a character if you wanna hop in, just have them show up at the guild.

 

yasha:
What some called Sybos seemed to be little more than a madman's tale, a delusion cast by the punishing heat of the ocean of sand upon the greedy and desperate. If it weren't for the promise of furthering research of these forsaken western lands, the young monk by the name of Veasna Makara would never have left Holy Ridyamat. Her discipline and white baggy clothes kept her from collapsing in the desert after weeks of travel on foot, though she was merely enduring the challenge of the sands, not overcoming it, and it was taking its toll on her.

When she left the great forests of the Ridyamat, Veasna had packed two weeks worth of solid food rations and a flat tank of water designed to comfortably rest against her back. When the solid food ran dry, she had to rely on horrible tasting, chalky blocks of tea to sustain her, and now even those were in short supply. She feared that if she didn't cross this desert soon, or even less likely, find Sybos, she would meet the Qimayadd soon enough.

That night when she had found a suitable rock to rest under, through the flying dust out in the distance, Veasna spotted a line of lights swaying in the wind, accompanied by the rattling and chiming of small metal bells. She thought it to be her mind finally turning on her at first, the impossible luck of finding help when she most needed it. But as the light and sound slowly drew closer, it felt all too real to be a hallucination; swigging down the rest of her tea while suppressing the need to gag, she ventured closer.

Through the dust, she could now see clearly the outlines of long-legged beasts of burden with tall, pale men atop of them, pulling along crates covered in unknown writing; she knew it to be desert speak. It was a tongue she could speak, as taught by the elders in her monastery, though little information about the writing was translated for the Ridyati.

Watching her closely, one of the men atop the beasts held his hand out before speaking. "Halt, stranger. It is a trading caravan of Sybos you appear before, if you wish to take from us, I hope you understand there is a great deal of risk." he warned, six heavily armored men advancing into her field of vision, large swords and axes at the ready. "Sybos? You come from a place called Sybos?" Veasna said, slowly backing away, hastily recalling her studies of the desert tongue. "Yes, if you are in this desert without the intention to attack caravans, you're on your way to Sybos, there's nothing else a human could want here."

So it was real. The texts of the desert tongue preceded those with any mention of a Sybos. "Tell me where, I'm in no hurry to scatter my bones across the sand." Veasna said with renewed hope. "Follow the sun's path exactly. Tomorrow, if you continue all day, you should find yourself at a lake. Do not hesitate to rest there, it has all the food and water one could hope for. Three more days and you will find yourself at Sybos. Best of luck to you, traveller." the man spoke genuinely, his wrinkled and scarred features told tales of many adventures across the ocean of sand. Veasna gave a slight bow and returned to her rock, and the caravan disappeared back into the darkness.

Achkaerin:
To the south on the Sea of Auhq, on a plate of ice stood the citadel that was the Vamria Academy of the Arcane, it looked mystical and as the name suggested was a school for all things to do with magic. Magic itself was something that was not easily mastered with only the most dedicated and strong of will succeeding, this was a place of knowledge and of learning, people of all walks stopped by to look through the impressive library or to consult with one of the five Sages, the imposing walls shone brightly as did the battlements and the towers.

In the gardens of the Academy one of the students a young girl named Fleur was in the middle of one of her lessons, she had face length red hair, she was a bit of a wanderer, delving into the deepest and darkest places of the world to find artefacts and the like. It was now that her teacher, an older man named Byddel slammed a book shut in her face, snapping her attention to him.
"You may a talented young thing." Byddel said "But you won't get what you seek if you keep running off at the first sign of danger, you're far too wilful."
"I can't help it." Fleur said
"You must learn discipline." Byddel said "Talented with magic you may be but without the propoer discipline and knowledge that you presently don't exhibit you won't master it or do you wonder why you spend so long lying in bed with magic related injuries? You must develop your chakra network."
"I'm trying." Fleur said
"If you put as much time into your studies as you do into your adventuring you would rival the Five Sages in skill." Byddel said
"What I don't already?" Fleur asked

"All right." Byddel said knowing he was never going to win this round "What is it this time?"
"The Lord of Sybos has issued a decree calling for the best Monster Hunters." Fleur said, Byddel smiled "You knew?"
"You know the relationship we have with the Guild." Byddel said "We advise them and occasionally we help them out. It's a two day journey by sea to Sybos, get your things together and good luck."
"Thank you." Fleur said
"We will finish your training when you return." Byddel said, he turned and walked away, Fleur headed for her chambers she had to pack and get on the water, she wasn't advanced enough with her magical learning to attempt self transformation yet so she'd have to do this the hard way.

Holy King:
After receiving the news of the dragon attack, and giving the orders to the guild, Duke Ozan walked up a flight of stairs in the left wing of the palace, up towards a room where the faint sounds of swords clashing with one another could be faintly heard. Once reaching a set of doors, the palace guards, with their metal spears and black chain and plate opened the door for him, where two men, crowded by a group of seemingly young boys, were dueling with two curved swords. Walking towards the center of the group, he watched as the two men, dressed in chainmail, could easily jump and dodge the others blows whenever they swung. One of them, the one the duke was looking wore a mask of a face, with hallow eyes that gave away towards an abyss, and gaunt cheeks that hung to the steel, and a mouth that never showed any expression, aside from seemingly endless dissatisfaction. The masked warrior looked at the crowd to make sure they were still watching the fight, and when he noticed that they were looking at another man, he caught the other duelist's sword before dismissing everyone in the room.

 Sheathing the sword with a bow, Ozan spoke to him with a serious tone stating, "Remove your mask, Demir." And so, Demir remove his helmet and and his mask, revealing a large burn mark that covered his face from the bottom of his eyes to the upper lip. They both then opened their arms to each other and embraced before Demir brought out a pipe. "What are you doing on the eastern wing? Thought you didn't like it here." Ozan took a deep hit before exhaling smoke and coughed a little, "Well, at the least not when I'm with the children." After Demir set the pipe down and blew smoke out of his nose he asked what had been on his mind since he saw him in the crowd. "Why are you here? No wars or banditry or monsters that I've heard." Ozan took a deep look around him, at the mosaic of two fighters that were behind Demir. "Nothing wrong seeing a good friend is there? And besides...there is something that happened." Demir said nothing and only gulped before Ozan continued his sentence. "A dragon. Unholy and massive if the Iskari knight be true." Demir was clearly shocked by this statement, his eyes widening with anger and fear as Ozan told him more about what happened. "What are we going to do about it?" The duke looked at his old friend in his eyes. "I want you to lead the guild forces I've called in. You know how to lead and how to hunt monsters better than anyone I've ever known in my life."

Demir picked up the pipe and took a deep long hit from it, blowing smoke from his mouth before standing up and bowing to his friend, although in this case it was more towards the man who assigned him his task. "As you command, my lord." Ozan stood up, and dusted himself off. "Well, if you would excuse me, I have to gather rations and supplies for your trip." Demir nodded as Ozan left the room, closing the door behind him. Quickly, he threw off the black tunic and trousers, and put on a white tunic with matching trousers, then a red silk robe with golden silk designs on the collar and running towards the hands. Then he threw on lamellar armor, and put on another mask, this one the same design as before, although it had three markings running from the forehead to the jaw. He threw on a sash which held up his sword sheathed in a golden scabbard with dozens of rubies on it. Stretching he opened the door and went out of the palace and downs towards the guild hall where the forces would mmet up.

Walking down from the walled old city and across the bridge that ran over the river of Sybos, of which the city was named after, he found himself towards the guild area, where newer buildings clearly different from those in the older section of the city met, and in the center of it all, a grandiose tower, with spiraling pillars and windows stained to show pictures that could change and vary from the season or the day or the weather, Demir knew this was the guild hall, and several large crowds began to meet outside of it, all of them seemingly adventurers calling the duke's orders. Demir's mask showed no sign of emotion, no sign of life as it entered the tower.

yasha:
For the first time since setting foot outside of the Galtai monastery, Veasna had found comfort. The dense foliage surrounding the lake and narrow river that fed into it had shielded her from the vicious sun that clawed and bit at her from dawn to dusk in a way that her tall, ornate headdress she had never taken off in public could not. After shamelessly gorging herself on the fruits and clean water offered by the oasis, she had spent the rest of the evening excitedly documenting the journey and all she encountered, to the point where she had used half the pages in her leatherbound notepad.

That morning, with a pack once again heavy with supplies, Veasna marched on towards Sybos, with a renewed dignity that she had been bled dry of during the long and perilous walk in the desert.


When she finally arrived before the towering walls of Sybos, Veasna had been forced into a most undesirable position: standing and waiting. The queue of men awaiting entrance to the city via one of the many guarded entrances had wrapped around the wall a considerable length; most of them from parts of the world unknown to the Ridyati. Their bright pink complexion no doubt brought on by the scorching heat in what she assumed were otherwise pale skinned adventurers. Her own skin in comparison, had gone from a slightly pale tan to a reddish light brown.

As the line shrunk to less than a dozen people in front of her, Veasna considered how to answer the questions the soldiers at the gate had asked each and every person. The Ridyati had a common practice of lying to strangers, especially those outside their monasteries. To seek so much as a name would quickly turn into a duel of wits as a pair of Ridyati attempted to outsmart one another. It wasn't as though they had anything to gain through lying, it was a simple matter of keeping sharp wits to the Ridyati, whom believed there was a time and place for honesty.

"Next." the soldier finally called, prompting Veasna to step forward slightly. "Show your weapons." he casually said. Veasna unsheathed a small, broad dagger with a jewel-encrusted hilt. "Where is your homeland?" he continued in a uniform manner. "Beyond the Meklos Ravine to the east." Veasna answered without a moment's hesitation, it was the truth, though there was little between Sybos and the Meklos Ravine worth mentioning.

The soldier raised an eyebrow. "You look like a Tyrridian." he probed, taking note of Veasna's dark skin and broad cheekbones. "Smart man." she replied with a smirk. He looked back down at his book and resumed taking notes. "Right. On your way, dark one. Don't think about starting trouble, you've a face I can remember."

Immediately after entering Sybos, Veasna was shocked by the sheer volume of people beyond the walls. It was an endless stream of people entering and exiting the stone buildings and crawling up and down the roads, some old, some young, some armed to the teeth. Feeling out of place, she quickly stripped out of the baggy white cloth that protected her from the heat and tied them around her waist, over the sleeveless, fitted blue and purple robe she had quietly slipped on before entering the queue to the city.

As she ventured into the depths of Sybos, Veasna had pushed and shoved her way past leisurely shoppers and persistent hagglers, attempting to stop her again and again, shoving strange currency in her face in hopes of taking her dagger, headdress or even the silk robe back to their stalls. She quickened her pace when she spotted a couple particular stalls with steam and smoke rising from them. It seems she had missed eating a substantial meal more than she realized.

Quickly taking a table occupied by another single adventurer in the middle of the road, she enthusiastically ordered a massive platter of barbecued meat and exceptionally pungent curry. Only after the lady behind the stall repeatedly acknowledged her request did Veasna turn back to make eye contact with the young man sat at the table with her.

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