Drop Teine ​​is fortan

Age: 1 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
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Posts: 607
Haunting melodies.

A call across space and time, into dreams and nightmares, interrupting conversations and blurring the words of books as you try to read.

A call to witness. To perform and participate. To grow and know and learn.

A call to fire and the forest.

A call to the Stonesong.

A call of the Stonesong.

In the midnight hours, for those who heed the call, they will find the way through the woods lit by floating balls of firelight that dance and sway in a breeze unfelt by mortal skin. For this evening the wood complies and those who follow the light find their way easily through the imposing trees, like skeletons in the moonlight.

There, standing upon the Stonesong even as it rushes beneath her feet, is a spirit clothed in the flesh of a woman. She is curvaceous and deadly, wielding fire, drinking it down and spraying it out again. It lingers in her palms and dances in her eyes.

This drop can be for anything! A new magic, magic update, item, companion, animal shift, or bio upgrade!

You have 48 hours to reply your character arriving!

Drops are not always safe. Join at your own risk!

Coding by Sky!
Phoebe Steadman
Midwife / Dean / Health Advisor
Portal Guardian
Age: 19 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 30
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity)
Played by: Grant Offline
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Posts: 2,031
Phoebe awoke with a start, sitting up in her bed in confusion. She wasn’t sure why but she felt a…calling. Not quite the same as when Frey had called her, she couldn’t hear her name specifically. But there was this natural inclination to rise and simply go. Still half-asleep, she rose and pulled on a light dress, slipping on her shoes and tying her hair in a braid as she walked out her door.

She shuffled down the streets, out into the fields and beyond the marker of the barrier, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. The calling only grew stronger though as she went, brown eyes bemused by the pretty lights that marked the path.

Upon arriving at her destination, her eyes widened in awe to behold the fire-wielding woman. For a moment she watched, enraptured by her skill with something so deadly – yet so beautiful. A small smile curved her lips and the young midwife dipped her head and a shallow curtsey even to her. ”Good evening, I do not mean to interrupt, but did you call?” she asked innocently, still watching the flame move around the other woman’s form.
I look up to the little bird
The flies across the sky
And I, I wish that I could be that bird
And fly away from here
Maea Valair

Age: 22 | Height: 156 cm / 5'1 ft | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 5 (Level 1 Attuned) - Strg: 13 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 11
SHII - Regular - Will-o-Wisp
Played by: Chan Offline
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Posts: 2,069
I talked to God to no avail

Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time."

The call wove into her dreams, changed the stalking nightmares so slowly that Maea didn't even notice when sleep changed into wakefullness. Had she been asleep still when leaving the house? Or was she spirited away in her nightgown, with the hair falling in a tousled mess down the shoulders and only a ragged scarf to keep her warm?

The call sang to her and she found no reason in herself to resist it. On bare feet the slender girl let the pull lead her into the forest, across a border she once had thought impossible to cross and through enchanted woodlands that refused so many others to pass. She didn't know this occasion was special, didn't understand that it could be dangerous... she only followed, and gazed in quiet fascination at the fire-wielder when they came into view.

Saying nothing, Maea dipped into a deep curtsy before the woman, filled with a respect the couldn't explain. She glanced briefly at Phoebe, acknowledging her presence with the hint of a smile... Part of her still wondered if this was a dream after all.

Permission granted for magic/violence, short of killing.
Unless otherwise stated, Maea is always wearing Ludo's Rags around her shoulders.
Adam Pikely

Age: 29 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 14 - Luck: 16
COFFEE - Mythical - Dragon (Firebreathing)
Played by: Ryan Offline
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Posts: 759
It starts with a teaspoon of trouble - It ends in bliss and penury
There is no pension plan for heroes - So you'll want to get the hell out of my way

Adam had grown used to sleeping in forests from a lot of practice in his life. When you worked as a thief and highwayman, and a well known one at that, a lot of inns didn't want to let you in. And he was far too free-travelling to get his own place (only had the time to show up at Heidi's sometimes, drunk and in need of a warm bed). If you found some moss and a strong branch, it wasn't so bad.

And sometimes there were nice things about it too. From his branch in the Greatwood he could see the stars, watched the sky move slowly above him with a leg dangling over the edge of the branch. It was peaceful, a rare moment where he let himself relax and consider whatever might come into his mind.

At first the song coming through the air seemed to fit so well to the moment he didn't entirely notice it, but soon it was impossible to ignore and he sat up, trying to listen for the source. Something about it felt enticing, drawing..he hopped down from the branch and found his path lit up for him until he reached the fire-holding woman and saw the others drawn by the song around him.

Adam smiled at the figure and confidently leaned back onto his heels, crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows as if to say well. go on then.
Please note Adam has 5 large scars across his neck and chin.
Remi Taliesin
Portal Guardian
Age: 24 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 34 - Luck: 31
ISLA - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Odd Offline
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Posts: 5,133
all we are is skin & bone trained to get along
Like the others, Remi too had been awakened by the strange call. Were it not for the fact that he didn't have Aoife with him, Remi might indeed have purposefully ignored it. Even now as her guardian Remi thought that perhaps ignoring the sound would be the best course of action, but it was endless.

It couldn't be ignored. It demanded to be heard.

And so, wearily, begrudgingly, Remi rose, mounted Isla, and followed the strange lights. Don't worry, I'll tell you if I think it's a trap. Isla whispered into his mind, feeling the unhappy pulse of his thoughts. With a grin, he nodded, fingers tangling happily in her mane as they entered and delved deeper into the woods.

Coming up the river, Remi glanced at those assembled, giving a nod and smile towards Maea. Dismounting easily near Phoebe, he nudged the blonde gently with his shoulder, eyes upon the strange woman standing above the tide. "I take it I was not the only one who heard her then. I suppose that is reassuring."
forever going with the flow, but you're friction

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with an Italian accent.

Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Let me know if you want to kill him and we can chat.

Magical Items for sale in the wagon: Drinkable Sea-Cup | A cup that transmutes saltwater from the ocean into drinking water. Works one-cup at a time. Full-Smokes | A packet of cigarettes, where each cigarette when smoked counts as a full meal. Clawed-Ring | A ring that when used created claws on the wearer's hand.
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 24 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
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Posts: 301

Stumbling was nothing new, heavy feet in heavy shoes trampled through the undergrowth and snapped branches as they pushed Are towards that tantalizing glow. A glow very much alike what had tempted him before, but not awakening the same churning in his gut. So off in the night he'd went. Prepared this time, axe slapping against his leg, shield against back and gambeson.

With a crash and a gasp he finally broke through. Splashing as his feet slipped and almost sent the cobbler plummeting into the waters. A moment to collect himself, a nod up to those known and down to the new faces present. A creak of straps and belt as he adjusted himself, suddenly aware of his ragged state.

"Heil." he almost whispered, awestruck by the display and left staring at the beauty of it all, jaw hanging open and eyes like moons.
Force and magic use OK.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd / Outlander Advisor
Portal Guardian
Age: 29 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 10 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 33 - Endr: 37 - Luck: 35
ISUMA - Mythical - Gryphon (venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
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Posts: 3,414
Some nights were too beautiful to stay shut up in stone, locked away beneath the ground. As comforting a den as the Guildhall could be, there were times when Jigano wanted the stars above and the wind ruffling his fur as he slept, and on those nights he curled up in a hollow beneath his favorite stone in the Glade shrine. Isuma was tucked against his side, covered by his tail and peeping dreamily in her sleep when the call drifted through his dreams, coaxing and cajoling, whispering and promising, inviting and demanding his presence.

On unsteady paws he rose, and shook himself as he looked up at the stars. He was being called, to where he did not know, nor to what purpose. Was it Ludo? Safrin? Or something else? He glanced down to nose at Isuma, soundly asleep in her little gryphonish dreams, and with a lick to her forehead he trotted out across the glade, into the outskirts, and over the scar the barrier had left in the earth. White paws flashed over the loam of the wildwood, silent as the wind, a ghost among the branches; nearly a will-o-wisp himself, foxfire given form.

There were scents in the midnight breeze as he neared a rushing river he’s not yet found before. Familiar scents, of friends and not-friends and strangers gathered. He paused in the shadows before he came too near, shifting smoothly from white-furred fox to white-haired man before he crossed the final stretch of trees to witness the river in all its glory, and upon its waters…


Maea and Phoebe and Remi and Are were there already – the alchemist with his unicorn but without his baby, the bard noted, grimly amused and no little relieved. But his attention for them was limited, drawn almost immediately as he was back to the play of fire and water and a spirit as beautiful and dangerous as the elements she so casually embodied.

Entranced, and wary because of it, he hung back in the shadows, blue eyes gleaming in reflected fire like those of a beast as he watched and waited for her to reveal the reason for her call.

Waiting, too, to step forward should the call be a trap, and his friends nearer to the water find themselves in danger.
Wessex Theskyra
the Wraith

Age: 40 | Height: 5'8'' | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural
Level: 4 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 31 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 31
LOKI - Mythical - Dragon (Energy Blast)
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 1,066
The strangely beautiful, peculiarly eerie melody that wafts across the dark stretches of the night and into Wessex’s ears are irresistible. She wastes no time in grabbing her bow and arrows and leaving her little cabin in order to find its source. Across the barrier-mark she goes, quickly - quietly - keen ears initially honing in until little balls of fire seem to lead the way. Great. Fire. A dangerous element for her to be around, but then she played it safe in the last big thing so she can’t really do it again, now can she?

They lead her to the river and while there are others gathered, Wessex only has eyes for the woman on top of the water and her fire-art, the beautiful deadliness of her form and the skill with which she wields the flames. Muscles tense as she comes to the bank of the river, staying on the edge of the banks, though the water is ever so near.

Ok. What now?
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
Lily Balfour

Age: 27 | Height: 5'9'' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 15 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 12
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 329
cover your crystal eyes
and let your colors bleed and blend with mine
Hark, is that something that sounds as pretty as her own voice? Lily is up until the wee hours of the morning, making quiet plans for her new establishment when a haunting melody finds its way to her ears. After she finishes freaking out and wondering if her house is haunted, the redhead decides to investigate. Armed with a torch and small kitchen knife, Lily wanders around until she notices some hanging balls of light, which she then follows with some odd mix of happiness and reservation. They lead her to the banks of the new river - and this is her first foray past the old barrier - to yet another entirely new sight. The Outlander’s mouth drops open a bit as she steps forward to get a closer look - the idea that this could be dangerous, or a trap, completely gone from her mind.

The fire is beautiful, the woman enchanting. Lily is sucked in completely. She registers the others, but says nothing.


Age: 29 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8
Played by: Neowulf Offline
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Posts: 393
i told the stars about you
Rory did not sleepwalk, and that should've keyed him in on the fact that he was awake.

Rory did not dream so vividly, and that should've keyed him in on the fact that he was awake.

But neither did, not really. He somehow transitioned from the depths of his heavy, exhausted sleep to being vertical again, goosebumps rising on his skin. The air inside the farmhouse was cool despite the banked embers in the hearth. Night pressed in around him. As he shivered, he wondered, in a sort of far-away, cotton-y way, why he was cold. He usually did not freeze in his dreams.

Hands, still warm from beneath the blankets, found an off-white tunic and tugged it over his head. It went about halfway down his thighs, preserving his modesty, but not by a wide margin.

Barefoot and barely breathing he slipped into the dark, lulled and lured by the haunting melodies wrapping around his heart. His breath pooled into the air and his eyes were bright, filled with wonder, yet the slow way in which they drifted told of the dreamlike state he was in.

His feet whispered over cold spring ground. The dream carried him past the barrier's scar; he had not been here when awake, eyed it as a curiosity, stepped over with no hesitation. Fire—the memory of it still living on his skin—fell with orange warmth across his night-pale face. He did not balk from it.

The path he followed led to the murmur of a river, and a crowd. Upon the river stood a woman, breathing fire, and a shiver tingled down Rory's spine. The cold air drifted up his legs in an oddly intimate way.

Somewhere between the forest and the gathering it finally clicked in his brain: he was not asleep.

This was no dream.

This was real.

He was instantly both terrified and unimpressed, and ducked off the path, to the side, drifting along the edge of the trees and hoping that no one would notice him—a ghost in an off-white goat's wool tunic, silent on his bare, cold feet, golden hair washed out to silver in the starlight.
burn scars crawl up the left side of his neck and onto the lower left half of his face
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 29 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 28
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,762
Delivered from the blasts
Deimos had always devised control and precision – an implementation of authority, power, and dominion over his choices, his outlooks, his purposes, and his ambitions. He’d never relished anyone ever dictating his decisions, bristled against a higher authority no matter the occasion, clenched his jaw, ground his teeth, and left sedition and insurrection to settle into his bones. He presided and commanded himself, his actions were his own, and he’d readily admit if they were flawed or successful, victorious or disastrous; owned their scruples and judgments.

But this evening, the chill spiraled through his feet and moved his limbs, made them wayward, brushed against his senses until they seemed dull, cooled into a stupor. He followed plumes of mist and fog at the edge of his vision, out of reach, out of touch, out of order, hands lifting to catch the distorting labyrinth, incapable of doing anything else but following. Had he been in his right state, the Reaper would’ve been vexed, exasperated, completely, utterly contemptuous at being led astray, down paths he’d never seen, down ledges and streams and ruins he’d never crossed.

The fire danced in his eyes though, and a series of sounds and memories split upon his form - Father? he nearly called out into the midnight tendrils, the coiling embers, the dazzling, radiating bliss of wrath and flames, as if the great beacon of his life were standing amidst the columns of timber, basking in ghosts and warrens. Something else shifted beyond his sight though, and he twisted, turned, over stones and rubble, boulders and roots, desperate to cling to the broadening siren song. He couldn’t place the shadows, he couldn’t figure out the silhouettes, the wraiths refraining in the twilight, haunting shells, but he yearned to, reaching, reaching, reaching –

Then it spun apart and away, and he was standing in a copse, hardly alone. Others were calling, asking why they’d been called, some bizarre summoning, and he glanced around and around, silent, grave, perplexed. How? Why? The confusion spiraled, clawed against his mind, until all the machinations seethed, simmered, a torment in his consternation; piercing stare taking in Lily, in Wessex, in Remi, and if they’d suddenly all been snared, trapped in a devious web of firelight and unsung stanzas.
the last of a line of lasts
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Hand of the Queen / Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 12 - Strg: 34 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 34
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
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Posts: 1,924
I took the stars from our eyes and I made a map
I knew that somehow I could find my way back
Far from the first to arrive, Amalia materializes at Rory's side, having shifted in the shadows from silent leopard to dark-eyed girl. Fire dances on the figure's lips, a lover's embrace, a song- and Amalia watches in open wonder, though she does not wander close. She stands beside her friend, nearly near enough for their shoulders to touch. Wordlessly she removes her deep blue wool cloak and wraps it around his nearly-naked form.

She had not meant to come here, but so too could not be denied. The pull off magis is a familiar one, these gatherings not uncommon. That the woods let her through is a concern for another day, a puzzlement to wrap up and place into her dreams. Though, again, it is not sure surprising- these events are known for bending Caido's rules.

She is not afraid, she thinks, staring at the woman in the stream, though the paleness of her figure says another story. Breathlessly she watches, waits, as the gods reveal another of their mysteries, and a story begins to unfold.
Then I heard your heart beating,
you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you
Eliza Kross

Age: 53 | Height: 4’6” | Race: Fae | Nationality: Natural
Level: 0 - Strg: 6 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 5
Played by: Sage Offline
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Posts: 43
Day is over
Night has come
Today is gone
What’s done is done

   Eliza heard the song thrum through her bones, and she wondered if the feeling was the same for the rest of the Fae. Whenever there was something new and mysterious within the Greatwood, it was as though the Fae were one, warned and aware of the upset in the mystical forest they called home.

   The girl flitted through the trees, her knife worn on her hip and her hair pulled back in a high ponytail - her long hair swishing and bouncing every time she moved her head.

   As she approached the Stonesong, the girl was surprised to see that there were quite a few people who she assumed were from within the now fallen barrier. Though filled with caution,Eliza was slightly relieved to see a few familiar faces. One of which was the self described Attuned-Abandoned she had met.

   She sidled up to the other side of Remi and looked up at the unicorn with wide eyes, turning to the fire dancing figure curiously. “What’s going on?” She asked quietly.
Arthur Pendragon

Age: 23 | Height: 6’4” | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 0 - Strg: 9 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 4
Played by: Sage Offline
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Posts: 26
{Image: OxiMF3c.jpg}

   The last time someone had spoken to his mind with a magical call such as this, it was Merlin and Nimue, the Lady of the Lake. While he doubted either of them had come through with whatever force brought him to Caido, Arthur couldn’t help but wonder what had that kind of psychic power here.

   He was far from the first to join at the large river, and his eyes roved over the gathered crowd, grinning gently at the few faces that he recognized. It was good to be among friends, especially when approaching the unknown, so he was more comfortable around those he knew. Of course his approach would have happened if there were others or not.

   His hand rested casually on the pommel of his sword, watching the woman dance with the flames. There had been many performances such as this one back in Camelot, but something about this one felt...different. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it caught his attention thoroughly, so he waited patiently to see what was to come for himself and those around him.

{Image: T56OXPu.jpg}
Arthur speaks with an English accent

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