City: Dara'theon

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City: Dara'theon

Post by Zenyatta on 21st June 2013, 4:12 pm


City Name:  Dara'theon (Duh - wrath - ee - un)
Country/Territory:  Moultania
Government Style:  Elected Dictatorship
Population:  2,709 Registered Residents
Tech Level:  Above Average --  Moderate reliance on Ether Technology
Trade:  Agriculture & Farming

Dara'theon, the second largest city of Moultania, is a small city compared to most.  However, it sits in prime irrigated land and is close to a major seaway, allowing it to be a good stepping-stone for the smaller surrounding farming communities in this region of Moultania.  The city, although trying to keep up with the times, attempts to keep a peaceful and rustic appearance by including many natural features and parks and many statues of the regional deities and ancestral shrines.  

Dara'theon acts as a stepping stone for much of its country, sending many of its citizens to Trayvahl and Coldrion for military services and leaving behind the best of the farmers and agriculturally inclined.  They pride themselves in the beauty of nature, both in plants, animals, and other such natural landmarks, so they try to keep these as alive in their region as possible.  Many scenic and rare species of plant, tree, and flower life can be found here, whereas in most other places they cannot.





Last edited by Stryker on 18th October 2013, 4:15 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Re: City: Dara'theon

Post by Zenyatta on 8th August 2013, 5:13 pm

[ATTN:  CLOSED]

"AAARRRRRGGGHHHH!!!"  Dayvon roars with irritation, knocking almost all of the things from his desk onto the ground with shatters and clatters with the sweep of his arm.  He looks hard down at the folder freshly opened, now standing over it as his rolling desk chair moves slowly away from him from the force of his energy.  A few papers are scattered within the report, pushed aside to view the photos that now litter the other, seemingly less significant paperwork.  

The photo on the top shows a richly decorated hallway--or at least, what used to be a richly decorated hallway.  The floor is now hidden, however, by many dead bodies.  Blood covers the walls, splatters reaching up high as the photo would go.  All of the faces that could be recognized (which was only two out of the disheveled mass) were familiar to him and his eyes intensify with anger as he stares at the open mouthed countenances.

The bodies are all broken, mangled, soaked in their own fluids and stacked upon each other in a pile.  Of course, that is not all that can be discerned from the dark image.  Additionally, dried blood is placed upon a clean sheet of paper--so large that it had to have been difficult to carry without bending or wrinkling it.   The paper, so large in size, is perfectly smooth--appearing to be thinner than usual paper, making it all the more fragile to the world.  The bloody marking painted upon it must have been done by a delicate, skilled artist, to leave it so pristine and white against the gore at its edges with no flaws in its presentation, this mark looking just the same as all the others in the previous reports.

Dayvon is a broad-shouldered blonde with lanky proportions, wearing velvety purple as he leans forward over the folder, his hands resting on the now emptied desk, tears dripping down onto the photo from hateful eyes.  His breathing is heavy, his teeth gritting with rage.  He doesn't think, he just stares and breathes as he tries to push the fury from his body.


"Sir."  Some time passes, and his head jerks up at the sound of a voice in the room.   It seems his butler is still here.  He had entirely forgotten about his surroundings again.  Drayvon glares at him, but he says nothing.

"Sir,"  The butler repeats.  "We were only there a week ago.  They are getting closer.  If we do not leave now, they will catch us."

"I know!"  Drayvon hisses, standing with clenching fists.  "I know they are getting closer--do you think I wouldn't have noticed?!  Do you think I would just forget that 'little' fact?!"

"No, Sir.  I didn't mean--"  His butler replies calmly with understanding.

"Good.  Then bring me the card."  Drayvon replies as he seats himself in his chair once more.  He closes the folder, hiding the death-filled photos within.  "Now."

"Are you sure, Master?"  The butler inquires, "It has only a single use.  The specifically said that--"

"Are you saying,"  Drayvon cuts in yet again, "Tillman, that using the card for this purpose would be a waste?  Is that what you wish to imply?"

"No, Sir. I merely wanted to be sure that you are sure."  The butler replies as he turns from the room.  "I shall have it for you shortly."

Drayvon pulls out another page of paperwork from a lower desk drawer, looking down at it with focus as he reads through a somewhat archaic writing on the older paper.  It is only about ten minutes before Tillman returns, placing what looks like to be a playing card down upon the desk as Drayvon reads through the paper before looking down at it.

The card itself is black with a red sheen in the light as you move it with the picture of a small, white, howling wolf that had flame at its feet.  It appeared almost to be leaping through the air with its lean posture, and he clears his throat as he looks back at the paper before placing it down and focusing on the card one final time.

"The instructions were clear.  I must be alone."  Drayvon replies.  "Leave me."

The butler swiftly exits, a look of concern and tension on his face as he exits, closing and locking the door behind him with a quiet click.  Drayvon moves his fingers to the corners of the black card, his eyes closing as he whispers words in a language that he does not even understand himself.  The card shines, burning against his fingers.  

Drayvon's eyes open in surprise, grunting in pain as the card burns into ashes upon his desk.  He kisses his fingers, and then jumps in surprise with a yelp as the voice of a young boy is heard.  He looks up to see a child before him--quite unexpected to summon someone so young.  The boy is loose, relaxed, and sitting in the air, with caramel skin, shining silver eyes, and long red hair. He is probably around six feet tall, as Drayvon would estimate, well-muscled, but slim, and quite...terrifying, somehow.


"Why, hello!"  The boy had said cheerily.  He remained silent as Drayvon looked him over, but seemed to grow bored and decided to introduce himself.  "Conlaodh O'Faolain, at your service.  What can I do for you?"

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Re: City: Dara'theon

Post by Zenyatta on 4th December 2013, 7:31 pm

This role-play is now closed due to the following reasons:

1. MethosArchaic no longer has time to assist as RPM.
2. Several members have voiced an opinion of keeping it private within a smaller group, defeating the purpose of this RP.
3. Inactivity; inability to get a response from inactive members.
4. Christmas Holidays require the use of the RPG stylesheet, which is currently being used by this role-play.
5. Several inactive members have implied or stated that they will not return in the near future.

This role-play may come back as a smaller role-play. No further massive role-plays will be run by Leah7 on this forum ever again. There is not enough people that are willing to work together outside of their normal, small cliques to make this kind of role-play work--especially for one of this scale. As such, never expect to see this style of role-play again, but you may see this setting again, if you are invited.

==> Moved to Role-Play Archives

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