The alchemist's mind was not particularly concerned with the overall metaphysics of this place. He'd leave the hows and whys to those with minds better suited for those tasks. Instead, what Remi was really interested in was how this place? world? universe? might be importantly different from the one from which he'd just come. The first thing he wanted to test, was whether he could still shift into his hawk form. It wasn't an integral part of his identity, but certainly it would be a good indicator just how far removed this place was from what he was used to. remi
How do you steal what you really want
When what you really want is free? |
Lost in the shuffle [OPEN]
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the Bastion
Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline Level: 15 - Strg: 70 - Dext: 65 - Endr: 101 - Luck: 100 - Int: 3 ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd
Change author: Posts: 10,919 | Total: 16,821 MP: 2609
11-05-2018, 09:00 PM
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Soldier
Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Level: 4 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 12 - Int:
Played by: Crooked
Change author: Posts: 215 | Total: 9,913 MP: 0
Yeah, Elyna didn't care about how this world worked either. What she did care about though was people wandering off on their own. Indeed, as she watched the figure take to the skies, she sighed, and got to her feet from where she'd been sitting. Although the bird had the advantage of flight, she had the advantage of super speed and had absolutely no trouble keeping up. When the man landed again, she wasn't even feeling all that tired from the trip. Ignoring the state of the other man (clothed unclothed, tired or fresh as a daisy didn't really matter to her) she walked up to him, a displeased expression on her face. "Going somewhere? Think maybe you should've told someone before you wandered off?" Unless and until they figured out what the fuck was going on around these parts Elyna wasn't comfortable with anyone being alone. For all they knew, there were dangers lurking around every corner.
Speaking of, she scanned their surroundings, keen eyes looking for any sign of danger. Nothing immediately sprang to mind, but she stood in a ready stance; she kept the man in her peripheral vision but most of her attention was turned outward. Once she figured out what had brought bird-brained man to these parts she could get him to turn back.
Leatherworker
Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8 - Int:
Played by: Neowulf
Change author: Posts: 397 | Total: 642 MP: 970
11-05-2018, 10:09 PM
Rory
This: for centuries—or so the story went—the status quo had been kept. The unfortunate few trapped by the barrier lived and bred and died, every idea thought, every theory tested, every last drop of creativity exhausted. There was no coming out. There was no getting in. There was only the constant, slow change of seasons, the hazy world beyond their invisible wall a constant siren song that had driven some to death over the long, long years. There was only the tenacity of their spirits, the never-ending slog of keeping alive, today, tomorrow, day after tomorrow, today, tomorrow... They lived on dreams and memories and stories and vague, half-buried hopes, but no one tried anything anymore. Rory frequently wondered about it: how they accepted their existence, merely put their heads down and went on, and on, and on. Lived and bred and died. Waiting for the gods of nearly-silent shrines to save them. But how long was it going to take? The scruffy bay pony he was astride was an older gelding, sturdy and steady; not Rory's favorite, for she had an abscess in her left hind hoof, but he was good enough. Forward, but lacking initiative. Pleasant, uncomplicated, but not exactly someone to converse with. He seemed to accept and agree to absolutely everything Rory asked, and it frustrated him. Still, he was a good choice for this type of thing—he'd been out here before, and while his ears were moving perhaps a tad more than usual, he didn't spook. There was just.. something about the borderlands. And that was why Rory was armed with a crude but serviceable pike. And while weird things sometimes happened out here, there weren't exactly supposed to be people out here. Bakshi—the pony—had suddenly pricked his ears and raised his head, and out of habit Rory's eyes went in the pony's direction. And. Like. What. He raised a hand to shade his eyes, staring out across the expanse of flat and deserted land, and what remained the only thing he could properly think. Because that thing over there, taking his pony's attention, looked like people. Two of them. They weren't supposed to be there; least of all were they supposed to be standing still. Not that it really was Rory's business—he figured they were just two more lost idiots going to try their luck with the barrier—but.. Eh. If they went and got themselves killed, it'd be good if he could tell someone who they were, at least. While you sort of knew someone who knew someone who knew someone until you knew someone who knew everyone, Rory didn't know the name and face of everyone. So he clicked to Bakshi, who obediently fell into a trot, and without the slightest idea of what he was getting himself into, Rory approached the strangers. He'd be in for a hell of a surprise once he was close enough to see that they definitely weren't from around these parts. the Bastion
Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline Level: 15 - Strg: 70 - Dext: 65 - Endr: 101 - Luck: 100 - Int: 3 ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd
Change author: Posts: 10,919 | Total: 16,821 MP: 2609
11-06-2018, 03:32 PM
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Soldier
Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Level: 4 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 12 - Int:
Played by: Crooked
Change author: Posts: 215 | Total: 9,913 MP: 0
Clearly Remi hadn’t been thinking. There hadn’t ever been a doubt of that: striking off on one’s own in a potentially hostile environment was not the mark of an intellectual. Her estimation of the man’s intelligence was swiftly ticking downwards. “Not thinking gets people killed. You wanna get people killed?” Her words were curt, but that wasn’t anything new; in fact, she was being friendly, for her, by not trying to drag this idiot back to the rest. While she could understand the confusion and the urge to explore, they should be smart about it. Perhaps a bit of fear would do the trick. “I normally wouldn't mind so much if you get yourself killed, except there aren’t enough of us to risk anyone at this point.” Her tone didn’t soften, nor did her expression, but at least she hadn’t physically accosted him yet. She could probably do it—even if he could turn into a bird—despite the fact that she felt downright sluggish in this new world.
At the familiar (but entirely unexpected sound) sight of a mounted figure in the distance, Elyna felt her protective instincts spike; she instinctively stepped into a defensive posture and moved in front of Remi, glaive springing into her hands from where it had been strapped to her back. Luckily she’d been training when she got transported here, so she had at least some of her gear. A horse was something she recognized, but certainly wasn’t expecting to find here: horses had been scarce in Northaven. Seeing as none of the Northaveners had brought over a horse as far as she was aware, and seeing as this horse had a rider, this was unusual and not necessarily welcome. As the mounted figure approached, Elyna’s eyes widened as she finally put two and two together. There were natives, and while Remi might be willing to greet them peacefully, she wasn’t so naive as to think they’d be treated well as intruders. Keeping a firm grip on her weapon, she hissed as the alchemist stepped forward. “Stay back. Remember what I said about not thinking?” Moving forward, she examined the mysterious figure for any signs of a weapon or an attack. She didn't see anything, but she wasn't comfortable with the height advantage he had. “We mean you no harm, but I warn you, we will protect ourselves if we need to. Please identify yourself.” Her voice rang out, more challenge than anything else; even if this new person couldn't understand her words, hopefully he'd understand her tone and her posture. And more importantly, hopefully Remi would trust Elyna to handle this.
Leatherworker
Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8 - Int:
Played by: Neowulf
Change author: Posts: 397 | Total: 642 MP: 970 Rory
Bakshi was, in many ways, the embodiment of life within the barrier: sort of slow and steady. He was made to work diligently, to be patient, and to endure. No wonder those two were going to take a crack at the barrier. Rory had done it a few times too. It was unpleasant and utterly pointless, but at certain points in your life you were just so fed up with everything that you thought you could get through on sheer willpower and desperation. He wondered if they'd tried before—if they knew the snap of the magic, and if they did, he wondered what sort of plan they had devised. The steady two-beat rhythm of the pony's jog was the only sound in the barren, flat landscape. He resisted its peaceful lulling, doing his best to stay sharp. It was monotonous. Until— "Hello–" one of the two figures called, his voice decidedly masculine, and lilting in a foreign fashion. The dim daylight glinted off something bright in the hands of the other; Rory tensed, and Bakshi, being the dumb horse that he was, merely looked concerned, but jogged on. Likely that was the only reason they ever made it closer. It was like—like—he didn't even know what. The weapon—he saw it was a weapon now, held by a woman who looked like she knew what she was on about—was finely made, putting his old pike to shame. Too fine to be of his world. Their clothes, while he could not make out the details, were different: the cut and the colors and the quality. The way they held themselves was different. The question; the threat; their existence. They were not from here and his mind tried to understand the implications of this, but he was too shocked to think at all. It was just a ringing in his ears as he sat there on his unassuming, dusty pony: a man with a tousled blonde braid and a worn-and-patched greatcoat and a pike that looked like someone forgot how to care for it ten years ago. Like the caged animal that dreams of freedom his first taste of it tasted like fear. That was the first thing he registered after having stared at them for a good twenty seconds from the safe distance of ten-fifteen yards (Bakshi, being sensible if not very exciting, had stopped of his own accord): his heart was hammering, and it was a fine line between fear and elation. His mouth was dry. The left hand, gripping the worn leather reins, had white knuckles. The other hand he found covering his mouth. Slowly, and self-consciously, Rory let it fall to rest against his thigh. "Sweet Safrin," he whispered, the closest he had come to praying in a long, long time. He took a deep breath. "I am Rory," he managed to say, feeling sick, sounding nervous; it was so unlike him, but he was rattled to the core. This—meeting people not from here—was something he'd daydreamed of as a child, among many other things. How they'd come and offer salvation and triumphantly he'd follow them out into the world beyond—a world he often thought they would've been better off having forgotten. It was hard to long for something you didn't know existed. And now it was happening, only—he wasn't prepared—how could he have been?—and she was pointing a glaive at him in a very businesslike manner. "How did you end up here?" he meant to demand, but it came out sounding weak and sickened, as if there was something very, very wrong. Which, y'know, there was. the Bastion
Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline Level: 15 - Strg: 70 - Dext: 65 - Endr: 101 - Luck: 100 - Int: 3 ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd
Change author: Posts: 10,919 | Total: 16,821 MP: 2609
11-07-2018, 12:52 AM
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Soldier
Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Level: 4 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 12 - Int:
Played by: Crooked
Change author: Posts: 215 | Total: 9,913 MP: 0
Leatherworker
Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8 - Int:
Played by: Neowulf
Change author: Posts: 397 | Total: 642 MP: 970
11-07-2018, 06:17 PM
Rory
She reminded Rory of a cougar, contemplating the pounce. He reminded Rory of a fox kit, all eagerness and innocence. They were opposing forces, and Rory was caught between them—an unwitting sparrow suddenly snatched from the sky by two struggling hawks. His eyes went from the brilliant smile of the man to the threatening posture of the woman, back and forth, as he awaited an answer that did not quite come. Just a question, one that could mean anything except this: that they were from Caido. Rory had a feeling that if anyone lived outside the barrier, they knew about this place, about the Spire, about the wastelands they couldn't cross into. But before he had much of a chance to answer, the man pulled something—something green—from his pocket and advanced, even as the woman shushed him. If it hadn't been for her he might've stayed put. But between her hostility and the glaive Rory wasn't taking any chances. He shifted his weight and backed the pony up, trying to maintain the ten yards between them; Bakshi looked a little offended, but true to his nature, didn't question. Just raised his small, hard hooves and stepped back across the lifeless earth. "Stay where you are," he told Remi in a voice that shook a little, his nervous gaze flitting back to Elyna when she leveled the glaive towards them. It wasn't the first time Rory had been threatened. This side of the barrier, you ran out of first times for things pretty fast. But boy did he hate it. He was there on poor Bakshi, heart cold, mind cold, numb and worried and anxious and angry all at the same time, as the loathsome woman even called him out on his name, and ended by feinting a blow—sort of toothless at the distance, but her prowess with the weapon was not lost on him—towards them. Towards Bakshi, maybe. He didn't know. It'd been aimed low. Rory took a deep, steadying breath. He knew—from experience—that the best thing to do was comply. Worm. He didn't want to risk Bakshi's health, but he was a, well, a power card: Bakshi was an advantage to whoever had him, and Rory was too muddled to figure out which path would be the safest for the pony. Had it been his favorite mare, well, she was smart enough to realize that the woman was bad news and he could've counted on her to run off at least a little ways if he chased her off, but Bakshi? Bakshi would, at most, trot ten yards away and look offended and then get horribly killed. "I will get off," he called out, knowing that he was gambling with wolves, "and for the entire time my feet are on the ground, so will your glaive be. And you will not come closer." He felt sick, but he mustered what force he could and stared at her, waiting for some sort of agreement—or attack, in which case he was going to make the most of his carefully curated ten yard safety gap and try to get at least the horse out. the Bastion
Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline Level: 15 - Strg: 70 - Dext: 65 - Endr: 101 - Luck: 100 - Int: 3 ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd
Change author: Posts: 10,919 | Total: 16,821 MP: 2609
11-07-2018, 07:33 PM
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission. Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds Level: - Strg: - Dext: - Endr: - Luck: - Int:
Played by: Admin/Moderator
Change author: Posts: 1,399 | Total: 1,399 MP: 0
11-07-2018, 09:33 PM
Soldier
Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9'' | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Level: 4 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 15 - Luck: 12 - Int:
Played by: Crooked
Change author: Posts: 215 | Total: 9,913 MP: 0
11-08-2018, 05:36 AM
Leatherworker
Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8 - Int:
Played by: Neowulf
Change author: Posts: 397 | Total: 642 MP: 970
11-08-2018, 03:28 PM
Rory
Open, likable faces were dangerous. Rory knew better than to cave in and try to assuage Remi's disappointment—he'd learned most of this while growing up. An unforgiving and harsh land bred unforgiving and harsh people. Still, it pricked his heart to see him change, to watch him drift back to the woman. But what had Rory expected? For the handsome stranger to ally with him, against someone he obviously knew? No—while he had held on to some sort of hope that he would try to pacify the situation, he remained silent, but the woman spoke. ”Deal.” Rory sat still a heartbeat longer, surprised at how easy it had been, and.. concerned about her sudden shift of demeanor. In the blink of an eye she went from strong and ferocious to, well, weak and tired. He didn't trust it. And while he would've liked for her to drop her glaive entirely, he still had his ten yards, and he'd mounted enough ponies on the go to know that he could get back up on Bakshi in a heartbeat again if need be. So with a little sigh to steady his nerves, Rory swung a leg over Bakshi's withers and slid off. Barely had his feet touched the ground when it rumbled and shook. Perhaps the biggest sign that this was out of the ordinary was Bakshi's reaction: the normally placid pony tossed his head and took a couple of prancing steps until the reins stretched. "Easy," Rory murmured to him. The woman—now sitting on her butt—demanded an explanation, and while he very much preferred this slightly less threatening version of her, he didn't trust it one bit. But why go to such extreme lengths if she only wanted to lull him into a false sense of security? He discarded the thought. They had other, bigger things to worry about. "No," he responded distractedly, not quite sure what an earthquake was but pretty sure it wasn't this. Licking his lips, Rory turned around on the spot, trying to figure out which direction was the best to head in, because if something was going to happen, he didn't want to be caught out in the open. Again, he was torn: what he should do was take advantage of the woman's physical lapse, get up on Bakshi, and leave them to their own fate, but.. Likely they had no idea where they were. Likely they had no idea what could happen. And it wasn't as if Rory knew all that much better: he'd heard stories, he'd seen some things, he'd had some inexplicable encounters, but this had been a first for him. He wanted to curse, but Vi's name died on his lips. "You are in Caido," he said as he turned his attention back to them, an urgency in his eyes, his voice. "A barrier exists around this place—nothing comes in, nothing goes out. It's been in place for some three centuries, or so we reckon. It's—" He paused. Licked his lips. He'd never known any other life than this, had only heard tell of stories of the Caido outside, memories of great-great-great-and-so-on-grandparents who spoke of a time and society so different that surely they'd been warped in the retelling. Such a place couldn't exist. But life here was hard, on everyone. It was an isolated place full of lean creatures. Only evil could thrive here. "You're probably stuck here with us. This—the outskirts—is the worst place to be. That tremor—might've been nothing, might've been a precursor to something worse. What? I don't know. You, lady, can you walk? Because I advise we do our best to get out of here before we find out which it was." Which was Rory for I'm getting out of here in about ten seconds and if you're not coming with, I'm not stopping for you. the Bastion
Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline Level: 15 - Strg: 70 - Dext: 65 - Endr: 101 - Luck: 100 - Int: 3 ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd
Change author: Posts: 10,919 | Total: 16,821 MP: 2609
11-08-2018, 03:51 PM
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission. | |||||||
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