Soul Wrought Role-Play

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Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by JerriLeah7 on 28th July 2018, 6:10 pm

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by JerriLeah7 on 26th August 2018, 4:57 am


Ascharya follows Rathis up quite a ways, separating from the hut and those that occupy it.  Unfortunately, their pace has slowed due to the fact that the old Shamari must be guided with great care--she's much slower and more blind this time, it almost seems.  Still, Rathis demonstrates patience, somehow.  She has no idea, to the fullest extent, just what he can see but she can tell that whatever it is, it has him on edge.  After some time, they finally reach an opened ledge, barren.  Yet, Rathis whispers out words in his deep voice that alerts the Shaman to his awe.

Rathis whispers, "By the ancestors!"

She can't help but wonder what is wrong--but whatever it is, he found it.  He found the great spirit that is bound to the girl.  Even she can sense it and she has no strong bond with the dead as a Spiritualist does.  She removes her blindfold, unable to withhold her curiosity.  All that she finds is his intense expression of fear and awe.  His eyes are wide, his lips parted with shock as his eyes gaze about at whatever it is that he can see and she cannot.  She wonders what creature could possibly let off such an aura.  What comes next is a conversation--a one sided conversation, unfortunately, as she can only hear Rathis' words.  Her curiosity builds as his words continue.

"What are you?"  Rathis asks.  A pause.  "I don't believe you.  You shouldn't exist.  What?, no I suppose I'm not.  Yet, still.  You're kind has existed only in fairy tales..."

Ascharya clears her throat.

"Oh!"  Rathis exclaims, "Forgive me, Shamari.  I shall Corporealize the dragon so that you may speak to it and see it."

Did he just say dragon?  Ashcarya wonders incredulously.  Rathis' shirt is already removed, as needed.   He begins to paint his face with the cans pulled from his satchel before turning to the Shamari to place four white dots under her eyes upon the top of her cheekbones identical to his.  The marks shine more brilliantly upon his skin than hers, but it flatters him.  Ascharya watches as Rathis draws a circle in the air before him and then pushes outward against the invisible circle with his palms, as if pushing it away from his body with an invisible force.  His knees bend, his body leaning forward into the push as sweat begins to bead up on his skin, the work of his magic giving him slight pause.

His process is repeated a few times until the great creature comes into view--this 'dragon,' as it so claims.    The translucent, white, and green creature seems to shine into the atmosphere, glowing incandescently as any soul should.  Yet, there's something more, here.  Magic.  This particular spirit is far more powerful than any individual soul that Ascharya has had the pleasure to witness.  She stares in awe, unmoving.  She does not speak.  The eyes, like green and white fire, burn like Archeron lanterns and the runs that are shining from the inner wings of the massively sized, reptilian creature seem to burn with a deep amber and red, fading in and out with intensity.

"Were you going to speak anytime today?"  It asks.  The voice of the supposed dragon comes out with a great breath, the air movement pressing back as a small wind pressure against Ascharya's body and knocking her hood back once more from her head.  The old woman steps back a bit, surprised from the pure force of its mere breathing.  Its voice is deep, heavy, reverberating within her mind--the speech does not come from its tongue.

"You must be Lorelond,"  Ascharya says, choosing a bow for a greeting, "A pleasure to meet you."

"Clever, human."  Lorelond replies.

Ascharya isn't sure how, but she can tell from gazing upon its large face that it is, in fact, smirking in amusement.  She looks into the large eyes that gaze upon her and is chilled to the bone.  Everything about him sets off all of her alarms--and more.  He's just so...magnificent.  Beautiful.  And massive!  "We understand your need to protect the girl, but you mustn't protect her from us.  I need to hold back the barrier poisoning so that she can have her soul wrought.  We cannot allow her to die."

"Of course she will not die.  I won't allow it."  Lorelond sounds impatient, "She won't die, so long as I keep back the poisoning myself.  Now, as clever as you are, I'm sure you've already gathered this.  What you're saying is that you want my permission to do it...the human way."

The last words are spoken with distaste and Ascharya's eyes look to the side at Rathis.  He returns her side glance before returning his attention to the great beast once more.  He seems at a loss for words and Ascharya cannot blame him.  She's having a hard time fully comprehending how a dragon could be bound to a human.  She's never heard of this happening before.  And this creature does not seem fond of humans at all.  It makes no sense.

"I'm saying that we will do it the human way,"  Ascharya says sternly, deciding not to back down, "With or without your consent.  We're simply hoping that you'll save us some trouble by cooperating."

The dragon laughs.  The dragon laughs!  The great head is reared back, looking up to the sky as the laughter echoes throughout the sky and air about them, as well as within the wells of their minds.  Amusement somehow lives within its non-human features, as easy to read as any human's face should be.  And my, is Lorelond expressive, wasting no expense to hide his clear disdain for the tiny creatures before him.  Intimidated, the Shaman has begun to back away with the Spiritualist, but both are now surrounded by the dragon's greatly sized tail.  However, the dragon doesn't stand--he simply moves his face up close to his visitors, removing the distance that was just added and then removing even more.  The two humans look more afraid than ever as he stops his movement of his tail and face, his left eye now only a few mere feet from them as it looks into them deeply with great detail.  The Shaman's aura is disgusting, but the Spiritualist is...appealing enough.  He is a kind soul.  

Making up his mind, Lorelond finally speaks, "I will grant you access to Nephanee's soul.  Should you or your...guarantor attempt to harm her in any way, I will kill you."

Ascharya pales, the blood draining from her face at the realization of what Lorelond knows.  Rathis looks very confused at the dragon's statement, but she quickly cuts in before the man can inquire, "Very well.  You have my word that my companions and I mean no harm to Nephanee.  We simply wish to save her and train her in her abilities, as a member of our community."

Lorelond grumbles to himself as he vanishes from view, "Humans."

Ascharya's shaking is still there, her entire body trembling from the fear and adrenaline now running throughout her body.  She's cold--much more cold than she was before, now that she's paying attention to herself and she is calming down.  She's still pale as she looks to Rathis with a bit of impatience, pulling the hood back on top of her head, "We've no time to waste.  We must get to her, now."

"Aye," Rathis says with discomfort, also obviously rattled, "Let's get the hell out of here."

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by Goetia on 1st September 2018, 1:00 pm

[Attn: Closed]

Suzette opened her eyes like it was any other morning, but what she found wasn't the walls of her room or the soft earthen floor. The walls shimmered of britemetal and a cold dankness hung in the air. Suzette pulled the bed sheet from her body and rose up, inspecting her surroundings. Odd trinkets lied strewn about as if they had all been used recently. The room's darkness drew Suzette to a dim light not too far away from her. What was bathed in the light, however, was another girl. One Suzette didn't recognize. She looked worn and beated, tortured within an inch of her life. She was bound to a wall with several ropes that had scraped away layers of skin. Suzette cautiously walked to the girl, looking for any signs of movement.

"Hello?" Was all she could bring herself to ask.

The woman's movement was sudden, her head jerking up as her eyes open to gaze upon Suzette with what began as alarm and ended with soft relief. The ropes shake, making very little sound, but casting moving shadows upon the dirty wall upon her back. One eye, a base white, seemed not to see her. The other, however, a brilliant, unnatural yellow. It was clearly magical as it shined against the darkness, the only solid proof the that bound girl was still a force to be reckoned with, even in her current, half-starved state. She speaks to Suzette with a weak, quiet whisper.

"Finally. Come and get me. Find me, I'll reward you." The woman says, "No time to waste."

Suzette jumped back as the woman's gaze met her's. Her arms instinctively raised in a defensive, yet whimsical position. The woman didn't look like anyone from the tribe. She barely looked like an actual person. But the golden yellow eye the woman had hinted to Suzette that the ragged lady had something happen to her, something possibly magical. Realizing the woman was still bound, Suzette finally lowered her arms.

" But who are you? What reward are you talking about?"

"Who am I?" She asks, repeating the question. It's asked softly, her eyes cast into the darkness of the room with uncertainty, as though she cannot remember herself. A pause. "That's right. This isn't me. This isn't me!"

Her voice is a little louder, now, her tone a little angry. Defiant. Suddenly, the ropes fall and she's standing tall, her body shifting. Weight increasing, meat is added to the frail girl's bones until she looks healthy. The dirt disappears slowly her hair begins to become clean, shaven in some parts and bound in others. War paint forms on her arms, her stomach, layers of binding for warmth wrap around her arms and upper torso, as well. The simple, hide pants and shirt seem to fix themselves within seconds as a bone decoration fits itself to her right shoulder and colorful beads find their way into her hair, along with a decorative, vibrant feather. The bone piercings in her ears are still there, and a white, oily paint covers the tips of some of her hair as well as half of her face to go with the rest of her painted skin.

Due to having half of her head shaven, the scars upon her temple are visible, now, resembling a deep claw mark of some kind, indicating history of a battle. The paints upon her face, arms, and stomach are all black and white, alternating in varied patterns and designs, though the design upon her face almost seemed to cover half of her face with a mask. Lastly, a bow and arrows appeared upon her back and then a necklace, strung up by her own hair around her neck, which appeared to be some strangely created children's doll., save that there were needles in it. Now fully shifted into her former self, the woman looked...fierce. Dangerous. Angry.


"This is me." She says, finally remembering, "I am Rezzolyn. I'm a Warrior Priestess, not a victim. And I have a dowry I can give. I come from a reputable family. It is a great gift."

Suzette watched the ropes fall and the person before her transform into a healthy warrior, just a head taller than her. Suzette's eyes widened as the woman somehow grew even more intimidating. She still felt non-threatened, but the her safety diminished to a fraction of its original size. Suzette's body froze in an effort not to piss off the big strong lady. Yet in the back of her mind, she couldn't understand why a heroine of battle would want to endow a gift unto Suzette's shaken body. She was just a musician. Forcing the words out of her mouth, Suzette stammered to ask another question.

"W-why me? I'm not a strong warrior. I just play music."

Shifting her weight onto one foot, she places her opposing hand on her hip as she tilts her head to the side, "I'm a dreamwalker. This is a dream. I didn't choose you--my magic did. You must have a strong connection with Corporea. Regardless, I called. You answered."

Feeling more relaxed, Suzette put her fingers on her chin as if she were in deep thought. "Well I always did have a stronger affinity with Corporea than the other realms. But I never expected to be visited by a dreamwalker with a gift. And I can't say no to gifts. Where am I supposed to find you, miss...Rezzolyn?"

Rezzolyn hesitates, "...I don't know. I was taken in my sleep from my home in the Hawa Tribe."

"Well I guess that's a good place to start. Although I've never heard of the Hawa Tribe.." Suzette paused as she processed Rezzolyn's words. "It seems that you've come to me to help you escape?"

Rezzolyn's expression darkened, "That'd be nice. Hawa is separated from the Hwy by salt water. That's all I can tell you. I'm running low on magic. Now wake up. And remember me."

Suzette's eyes opened once more, but this time she was in her hut, with the familiar smell of baked beans and toasted bread. Breakfast was ready. She sat up in her bed, thinking about the dream she just had. Some of the details were hazy, but she somehow remembered a name clear as fresh water: "Rezzolyn". Whoever that Rezzolyn was, she left a mark on Suzette that she couldn't shake off. Her musings were interrupted by Journa jumping onto Suzette's shoulders.

"Food's ready, sleepyhead!" Journa exclaimed.

"I'll be there in a minute..." Suzette grumbled. She pushed her little sister off her back and proceeded to get dressed for breakfast. She'd have to talk to one of the elders as soon as possible.

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by EphPhoenix on 4th September 2018, 7:38 pm

Ascharya has returned to the hut, Rathis' assistance truly appreciated. The blindfold is off, still, but sight is still difficult. She takes a seat on the ground next to the girl that is struggling to sleep. She seems quite feverish as Rathis takes his place on the Shaman's other side. He sits behind her, facing her back and placing his hands on her shoulders. He must give her strength to do what comes next, as usual. Ascharya's head bows low as she sits cross-legged, deeply into the ground. She has already returned her blindfold and hood over her eyes and head and her pose seems like a deep stretch as she exhales slowly, letting her body relax.

She steadies her breathing, controlling it, focusing on a slow inhale and then a deep exhale. She waits, repeating this process over and over as she waits for Rathis' magic to finally find synergy with her once more. Finally, the magic just....clicks. There's almost an audible pop within the room and it feels good. Now fully relaxed, Ascharya enters into Nephanee's mind and finds herself within a rather stunning glade. The girl was alone...for now. She was facing away, looking at....something in the distance over the horizon. This place was a beautiful view, after all.

Ascharya made her way slowly toward Nephanee with a soft composure. She's still wearing her usual garb, but she can also control how she appears within this realm--the realm of dreams. She's made herself the same, but undamaged, fully able to see with both eyes as she had once been. All her scars were removed, all of the past erased from view. The only thing that she added was the mark of their Tribe--the mark of Cinema. It was never an official symbol, but one that Neph would be sure to recognize. She intended to be the first to speak, but Nephanee must have sensed her. She turns and Ashcarya holds her surprise within as best she can. Neph looks....mostly the same. Yet, her eyes are that of the dragon's that she just spoke to and that frightens her.

Peace. She was at peace in what seemed like an eternity. The pain in her body, her head, the nausea, the vertigo, the creepy landscapes... "That goat eyed fuck," she said aloud in a growl. Anger rose at the thought of that thing.

Her head jerked and she was suddenly aware of another presence. White hot anger rose in her. Who would dare?!

She turned, a spear in her hand that she didn't remember being there, to face the intruder. It was a woman, but she seemed familiar. Recognition crossed her features and her anger dimmed as she bowed her head in reverence. "Shaman Ascharya," she said respectfully. "Forgive me. I thought you were...someone else." Something else, more like.

"Ahan," Ascharya says, smiling, "Nothing to forgive. You are going through a terrible ordeal. It is reasonable to feel alert. Do you know why I am here?"

"I..." She hesitates, her surroundings falter for a moment. Her physical form resumes the damage she's accrued over the last day. "I'm cursed," she said. "'re helping me cause I've 'Awakened.' Spirits alive..." She looked at the Shaman. "This is a dream, ain't it?"

The Shamari nods, "Of sorts. We're in your mind. I need to sustain your soul long enough to hold back the barrier poisoning. I cannot wrought your soul until you make your weapon and you need to be clear headed to do that. So, I'd like to work with you to make this happen. Do you think you can trust an old woman with your soul for a while?"

"Besides bein' a family friend," she began slowly, "I don't suppose I have much choice. I can't go dyin' and leave Granpa alone. I'm all'e gots. Not like he'd admit that..." She added under her breath.

Ascharya shifts all of her weight onto one leg, crossing her arms, "I understand. What comes next is...well, it is something that isn't well known within the community and I'd like it kept that way, if possible. It reveals things about me that shouldn't be wisely known. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Lady, I ain't no blabbermouthin' snitch," she said hotly, then added penitnetly, "Ma'am."

"Good," Ascharya replies, "Now, let's get down to business. I'm going to be taking on the visions for you. A lot of things. It'll make me weak for a while. I can handle that, but we still need to figure out what you can handle. So....I'm going to take you to all of the realms. I'm going to show you some things of my own by pulling you into my mind, instead. It's a dangerous process and it will be strange and maybe a little terrifying, but I'll be here with you the whole time."

"We hafta?" she said, blood draining out of her face. "The colorful's sick. We hafta go thur?"

"We'll be going through my memories, places I've, yes. All of the realms, even the unpleasant one. Nothing can harm us through our memories, though. You'll be just fine."

Nephenee is silent, a struggle going on in her head. Pride welled up in her. She wasn't some wilting daisy. She wouldn't be able to look Granpa in the eye if she was caught hesitating. "You're bein' nice, so it's gonna be bad, but I ain't never backed down from nothin' and I ain't about ta start!" The spear was back in hand and she was wearing armor, pride in her eyes warring with fear.

Ascharya laughs, "Such spirit. Very well, let us begin. You'll feel disoriented, at first, maybe a bit of nausea. Afterwards, it'll be like nothing changed at all."

She holds out her hand for Nephenee to take, smiling at her reassuringly so that the journey into her own mind can begin. As the girl takes it, she begins to slowly tug, tug, tug, dragging her soul into her own mind of peace and inner strength. Her own place of comfort. She imagines it, eyes closed, letting the zone of comfort wash over her until she finds herself opening her eyes and ending up on top of a windy tower--a britemetal tower. Except that it isn't a tower, it's a bridge, massive and metal and wired at the top. There are dozens of rusted over britemetal structures below, people milling about...but the people are dressed as Ascharya. The way of Hwy.

Underneath the narrow, metal and black pathway, the ocean rests and the sun's light shine brightly against its surface. The wind is fierce and Ascharya's hood is knocked away. SHe isn't looking down, but up, at the sky, feeling the breeze and taking it in with an expression of contentment. This is her home, her place of safety. She sighs peacefully, still holding Neph's hand, but says nothing.

She shifted to another place. She smelled salty water and felt the breeze from it hit her. They were atop an ancient structure, one she'd never seen. Below it, water flowed, more water than she'd ever seen. The glare from the sun nearly blinded her and she shielded her eyes.

There were other people milling about below. They wore tribal symbols similar to the one she commonly saw on Acharya. The tribe she came from?

She waits in silence, taking in the scenery as her eyes adjust to the brightness, waiting for the Shamari to explain what happens next.

"This is a memory--the past." Ascharya says sadly, "On the day I managed to make it up here, I was a child. Just an...introduction to a different Corporea than the one you know. Warmer here, I'm sure you've noticed."

Ascharya's heart aches in her chest. This was the memory of my last day at home. Why do I miss anything from here? "I just wanted you to see something different. You'll see many bad things, Neph. You'll see banditry, murder, pillaging...but you'll see things and places like this, too. There's a good and a bad to every single realm. That is what is important to know here."

She listened, making a face for a moment, taking it all in. "Well, if'n ya say so," she said finally, trying to hide the doubt she felt. "Ya done lived a lot longer than I have, so you'd know, I guess..." She shrugged. "Welp. If'n we're gonna do this, let's do it. Ain't none of us gettin' any younger."

Ascharya's grip tightens upon Neph's hand and they are suddenly not where they were before. This is a new place, for certain--Mezzetez. The heat and ash is almost suffocating, when you aren't used to it. This isn't just anywhere within Mezzetez, however. This is the same mountain that they stood upon physically in Corporea, but this mountain was molten. Due to the height of the mountain, a thick fog of black smoke hid the ground view and in the distance, but a familiar cliff face can still be seen where a waterfall should be. Except that this one isn't a waterfall--it is a fall of pure, dark energy: Tenebris.

"Dark energy, the element of Mezzetez," Ashcarya, "Tenebris. You'll notice that the mountain is much larger here than it is within Corporea. That is because everything is larger here--wider, longer. We do not know why this realm is so much more vast in size and distance."

Neph blinked as her eyes were plunged into darkness. She broke into a fit of coughing as the air was suddenly thick with smoke. "Land sakes!" she groaned, her eyes watering as she scrubbed at them.

She found that they weren't in complete darkness as her eyes adjusted from the bright surroundings they'd left. She listened to the wise woman and took it all in. "Yeah. I seen this place--not this spot exactly, though. I think that goat fucker was from here." She looked over at her. "Why do the distances matter? People actually wanna travel this place...?"

"Yes. Not all travelers have great affinity with Leveates and travel with more ease through here. There are also valuable resources here. " Ascharya replies, "Hold steady, now."

They are suddenly upon the mountain once more, the realm shifting into another memory of Ascharya's--Leveates. Squinting her eyes, the Shaman is taken aback at the sudden onslaught of vibrant colors that threw themselves at her eyes, but after a few minutes, they did adjust. The mountain area around them seems significantly smaller, but the smaller shift of the 'water' fall is stunning, a cascade of shimmering light that almost appears like falling, glittering gemstones. The sky is a clear, velvet indigo and the sun is shining down with a golden circle around it, the warmth of its rays beating against their skin with welcome. The vibrations gone, Ascharya feels strange for having the sudden lack of them.

"Gah!" She covered her eyes as she was suddenly plunged into deathless brightness. She was rubbed her eyes as she waited for them to adjust. When she saw the place, she was awed for a second before the grizzly memory returned. "I done seen this place," she said grimly, feeling her stomach roil slightly. "It's a perfect example of 'all that shines ain't necessarily good ore.'"

"What happened here?" She asks.

"These...I don't know, they looked like what the stories describe...sprites? They looked all cute and everythin'...but what they were doin' was anythin' but. I don't know what they was evisceratin', and it was too shredded for anyone to ever be able ta." She shuddered at the memory. "They were just dancin' around it, shreddin' it more. Like it was a game! A fuckin' game!"

As they shift realms again, Archeron takes shape around them, giving the mountain a green mist where the mountain remains around the same size, but the rocks are different, the mountain is tilted. It looks strange, wilted. The 'waterfall' is no waterfall at all, but the echo of the water can be seen. It's as if the water were more clear, more empty. The orbs of souls that floated about in the distance seemed to fit well with the atmosphere that came with such strange sounds and a dark ambience.

Ascharya had said nothing in response, but to be fair, what could she have said to that? Nephenee still couldn't help but feeling a little disappointed; she wished something could make better that grisly image that still danced in her eyes. She sighed as they shifted again and...found themselves in a greenish world that was like some weird reflection of their world. Glowing orbs roamed all over in sporadic patterns. She went a little pale. "A-are those...ghosts...?" she said, trying not to sound as nervous as she suddenly felt.

"Of a sort," The Shamari replies, "The orbs are souls. When they take form and look human, or otherwise, then they are ghosts. Haunting."

Nephenee resisted the urge to shiver. "I-I see. That's...uh...nice. This looks like home. Only greener...and...the water looks...hollow?" She wasn't exactly sure how to call it.

"Ahan," Ascharya confirms shortly, "These are the places you will see. So this is how this will go, Nephenee. I'm going to take on a lot of the barrier poisoning for you, myself. As it seeps into me, you will still see milder visions and realm transference, but it will be drastically decreased and less vivid. During this time, you must travel up the mountain and obtain the Exuma needed for your Soularm. You must also obtain any other materials personally. Obtaining the materials yourself is key. Once this is complete, I will wrought your soul. Do you have any questions?"

"Uh...?" Nephenee began, cocking an eyebrow. "Come again? Barrier poisonin'? Realm transference? And you want me goin' ta get Exuma ta what? Make a weapon?" This was the only thing that made sense to her as she was very well aware of her grandpa's glaive. "What am I s'posed ta make? And wha'cha mean 'wrought yer soul?'"

The Shamari sighs, shaking her head with disapproval, "That old fool taught you nothing, it would seem. Alright, I'll go over this with you..."

Ascharya went over the details of what it means to be a Magician, shifting over all of the relevant topics and answering any questions that the girl may have. She explains the Soularms, the Soul Wrought Ritual, and Exuma. She even goes so far as to give, in detail, the exact explanation of barrier poisoning and what it means to her. She's quite kind in her patience, but the irritation at the old man is still clearly there.

"He...uh...I think'e tried?" she said, oddly sheepish. "But...I was kinda fallin' in an' outta consciousness and seein' all this weird shit at tha time. Made it hard ta focus." She didn't like being caught with her pants down--or making it look like her grandpa had failed at somethin'. Family pride and all that.

She listened intently, asking questions as needed to get a grasp of it. It was all mighty thought provoking stuff that she had never considered or thought she'd have to outside of curiosity. "Alright," she said at the end. "I think I understand what I gotta do. All seems like mighty heavy work. Am I s'posed ta go naked or somethin' or am I allowed to bring materials?

"You take what you wish, just go alone. Though, you can be guided to the cavern's entrance. No need to worry--the people I brought with me will be your guides through the entire process, just as well." She replies.

She took a deep, steadying breath, then cracked her knuckles and gave the wise woman a defiant grin. "When do I begin?"

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by JerriLeah7 on 10th September 2018, 6:59 pm

Suitsue's morning started like any other: Filled with an imaginative breakfast as she scarfed it down before running out the door. She had wall duty and she was always late. Maybe she wouldn't be today! She jogged over to the wall with a beat in her heart, imagining music in her mind as she breathed heavily against her heart's racing. She imagined herself in battle, kicking ass and destroying creatures of all kinds as she made her way past the homes and wide open space between them and the wall. She can see Forte glaring at her in the distance. She smiles and waves at him sheepishly.

Forte's arms were crossed before his chest as she climbed the latter up to the wall's top, still breathing loudly from the morning jog while wishing she could take another bite from the squished bread still held within her left hand. She bent down, resting her free hand on her knee as she tried to catch her breath.

"You are barely fully dressed. That shirt under your bone is crooked." Forte says, shaking his head with displeasure. Points deducted for presentation upon arrival. Several more points deducted for being late. You were meant to be here at dawn, not after it."

"Awww, c'mon!" Suitsue whined, punching him in the arm before she took a bite of her bread. She then spoke with her mouth full, "Don't be such a sass. I'm here, aren't I? Where am I standing today?"

Forte scowled, "Placement fourteen. Don't forget the blind spot to your right on the farms. Fifteen and sixteen can't see it--only you can. Don't let it slip or it's on you."

"Aye," Suitsue said, boredom rising upon her lips teasingly before she winked at him, "I'll be off, then."

She saluted before she left, duty bound toward her destination along the wall's edge past the others that stood at their posts. She passed many, greeting some, ignoring others. Some she knew barely and some she knew very well. Most of them were just normal people, but a select few were magicians. Most magicians were Sentinels, after all. It was one of the best placements a magician could have.

Suitsue spent her morning watching, using her Sight to shift between realms as she watched the outer rim of the Tribe's boundaries with a wary, alert gaze. All she found were a few Renasole, though those weren't hostile and did not cross into Corporea. No threats to Cinema were found all morning.

It wasn't until almost noon that a few guests came to the Tribe gates. They were seen in the distance, walking slowly, non-threateningly. Watched carefully, many waited as they got closer and then they were eventually greeted with water and welcomes. The sigils upon their arms recognized them as Proxies, which are important diplomats within the Us Ro'da. The gates creaked open and they were allowed entrance.

Suitsue didn't pay much attention--diplomats generally bored her. They always talked politics or ritual traditions and all of that really stressed her, as well as sometimes flew way over her head for her tiny little brain. She simply did not have the patience for such things. She'd rather just do her daily job, get her daily trades for her father, and eat. Nothing made life more lucrative than food. The true sign of wealth, in her opinion.

Suitsue's daydreaming of great, badass battles were disrupted by Forte's voice once more. He had approached her suddenly and due to her lack of attention to anything within the wall or upon it, she jumped suddenly and her gaze shifted to him quickly before apologetically saluting him.

"Sorry, Forte. I was just focused in my Sight." Suitsue explained. A half truth.

"It's about time for your lunch break," Forte said, "So why don't you go and head there early? You can guide our visitors to Aero while you're on your way to the lunch tables."

Suitsue blinked, "...alright. I'll be back after lunch."

"On time for once, I hope." Forte sighs, "Unless you desire to be punished with latrine duty under Zahoet when he returns. I'll even be sure he works you hard for your transgressions against me, Suitsue. Don't play around."

"Ugh, I hear you." She left Forte at the wall with a scowl of her own after sticking her tongue out at him.

Suitsue greeted the diplomats with a salute and introduced herself cheerily before looking each of them over. They looked different, to be sure, but similar, too. None of them looked as exotic as her best friend or as the Shamari, but they did look strange, regardless. There were three in total, one of which was obviously a traveler.

After the introductions were complete, Suitsue politely guided them to Aerowyn, introducing them to her with the highest standard of which her abrasive behavior was capable, and then headed away from the group to obtain her own lunch. Nothing but relief and inner glee flooded into her as she separated ways, but she made sure to apologize to each of them for her ramblings and rambunctious behavior before she vanished.

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Re: Soul Wrought Role-Play

Post by MethosArchaic on 12th September 2018, 5:49 pm

[ATTN: Chenoa, Haize, Inle, Shamblo, Stormy, and Zahoet. Location: Outside Stormy's home.]

Zahoet had thanked Stormy when he had brought out the tea and meat. He should have expected that Stormy wouldn't be alright with not offering some degree of hospitality. Though the meat had cooled by the time they had it, it wasn't unpleasant. IT also made sense the Stormy offered meat since he was a hunter, he'd be likely to have much more available on hand then would be found at a typical meal in the village proper.

Stormy seemed to be standing outside his home, clearly worried about what was going on inside even with his wooden expression. He was of course armed, though he wasn't yet in a battle pose but he wasn't lounging either. The man already was ready in case of attack, armed with what clearly was his soularm. The entire glaive, both the blade and shaft was crafted entirely from exuma. Where he had found so much to craft such a large piece was intriging, after all Stormy wasn't from the Us-Ro'da. Even in cinema such a large pi---

Ughhh, Zahoet? Old Man Thimbles voice caused Zahoet to stop and pay attention.

"What Great Father?" Zahoet head was turned so he was looking down at his soularm strapped to his back, his hand moving to rest fingers on the handle to make talking easier as well ready to draw.

My teeth are ringing. Thimble said as way of explaining, not that it did a good job of it.

What the hell does that even mean? Zahoet wondered, "Are you alright?"

The camp is otherwise calm, Chenoa, Haize, and Inle are currently asleep and the camp is for the most part silent in the early morning. There is a light breeze, and it is slightly overcast showing signs that is might rain later. No noise comes from the tent, where Nephenee is being tended by Rathis and Aesharya. However to the the magicians outside, the normally warm content feeling of being near their fellow magicians oddly feels to thrum when they focus on the tent, kind of like a faintly beating drum or heart on the edge of hearing. This faint heartbeat has only recently started, the ritual has begun. Now they must leave them to it and not disturb them. If they do, they might damage Nephenee. There is a chance that because she is supposedly so strongly attuned to the realms, that any disturbance could lead not to just injury but it could possibly kill her.

Shamblo said her thanks as Stormy brought the tea and meat. She could see the stress in the man's face. She couldn't imagine the insurmountable pain Stormy's been through, after how long she's known him. It was hard to look him straight in the eyes, but Shamblo gave a supporting grin. Despite not feeling hungry, she tore into a piece of meat and chased it down with some tea. The silence which had previously been settling turned to sobering.

Chenoa is fast asleep. She thinks she hears some voices at the edges of her dreams, but knows that Zahoet would not let anything happen to her. It was a long night and she is thankful for the rest.

Stormy eyed the young man in obvious communication with his soularm. Normally, he'd have let it be--a man's conversations with his other were his own business--but not tonight. "Something wrong?" he inquired, scanning the landscape.

"I'm not sure." Zahoet answered uncertain when Stormy inquired. "He's complaining about some pain."

I'm not complaining! And it's not my teeth but my bones! Thimble snapped angrily in Zahoet's head at the boy's disbelieving attitude.

"You don't have bones." Zahoet said matter of factly when Thimble started getting snappy.

I KNOW THAT! But it feels like that. No. More like just before you're struck by lightning.
The tingles, were your hair is all on end.

"I wouldn't know." Zahoet answered having never experienced that. Turning to look back at Stormy he tries to explain as his soularm keeps trying to explain in his head, even if he seems to be a bit rambling. "He's saying it feels like when you're fi--

There is the faintest hum on the edge of hearing just before the ground around them starts to be peppered with bullets. Tufts of dirt and debris exploding from the impacts that seem to be coming from above them.

Above them far in the air, outside of crossbow range is some sort of unknown britemetal creature. Looking like some sort of flying crab or bat with aurora like patterns around the metal structures on it's back.

Suddenly under attack, Zahoet's training kicks in and he does the first thing one would do if under attack from crossbows. Draw his soularm, and get ready to throw up a defense after jumping out of the way. Thimble is yelling that they are under attack in his head, and yelling at Zahoet to shield the others. "Yes!" He said acknowledging his orders. Thimble way out classed him in experience. Zahoet dashed over to the startled Chenoa and swinging his soularm in an arc, threw up a thick igloo like structure of mud over them as he kept adding to it's inner thickness as much as he could till it was a couple feet thick. In his panic he didn't made the structure big enough to shield the other Sentinels nor was he close enough to have gotten anyone else unless they had been near Chenoa before he threw himself next to her.

Check the others!

"Chenoa you ok? We're under attack. I've gotta check on the others" The mud-igloo was pretty cramped only a meter and a half of room, but he was able to extend a foot to one edge, and push his soul arm through the mud on the other side as he shifted the mud to make two small windows to shout out of. "Sounding off, Alive."

It had been years since he'd experienced an aerial attack, but the instincts kicked in as though they'd never left, and he leapt behind the tree he's been leaning on for cover. "Find cover!" he called to the others. "Defensive positions! Locate the threat!" He focused his magic and spread his aura out, boosting the others so that they might move faster--and survive the damage in the event they were hit.

Chenoa was startled awake by the sound of something hitting the ground. She sits up and arms her weapon immediately. Zahoet is soon at her side building a barrier made of earth. She breathes sharply. “I am alright, thank you. Did you see what was attacking us? Was it one of the silver creatures?” She does not look out the holes he made in the barrier to call out to the others.

The quiet moment was disturbed by the sound of gunfire and bullets pitting the earth. Shamblo instantly reacted by diving to her students and throwing up a thick wall of tar in a matter of seconds. "Wake up! We've got hostiles inbound!"

Haize and Inle both squirmed out of their slumber, not yet cognizant of the relative danger.

There was a change that was hard to describe, like the world was just a bit slower and he didn't notice his aches and pains quite as much. Zahoet had to shift his attention away from figuring it out as he had to focus on the shelter to shift the mud to keep it from bowing inward on top of them as it had started to.

The moment didn't escape Old Man Thimble, That is Stormy's aura. . Since he was sticking out of the structure, he recconed quickly. The Chief protected the other sentinals. Stormy is hiding behind a tree...-

Zahoe was adding to and shifting the mud upward, causing the structure to ripple and move to Chenoa and he could get up. He had shifted closer to one of the holes and started widening to a door while Thimble kept on relaying information as the Britemetal creature kept spraying bullets at both the mud and tar defenses they had erected.

[i]- It's in the air. You'll never reach it. You can only defend the others.
Thimble revealed. There was a split second lull of one of the firing arms as it audibly clicked. The other however turned to start spraying bullets towards Stormy's position close to the house starting to tear through the higher branches and occasionally edge of the house. The creature moving across the sky to flush Stormy out and get a better firing angle until more targets present themselves. I've got a plan.

He had finished packing much of the mud structure so it could more or less hold itself up. "Crazy Ol' Man. She - I - fine. Chenoa, I'm gonna need you to take the Old Man and do something crazy." Zahoet loosened his hand so his soularm dipped towards the floor, and he could extend the hilt out to his friend while he still maintained contact with it by dangling it by having it hooked at the handguard.

Haize and Inle both slowly rose up from the ground until they felt the warmth from Shamblo's tar wall. Both had a shocked expression when the reality of the situation hit them.

"What's happening!?" Inle shouted.

"We're under fire from an enemy that got the drop on us. Somewhere above us. Possibly a metal bird. Inle, I want eyes on that enemy!!" Shamblo ordered. Inle immediately kneeled down and pulled her bandana over her eyes. She placed her hands on her lap, trying to calmly focus on her ability. Soon afterwards a thin rift opened in the air, as if space itself had been torn open.

The rift widened into the shape of an eye, and within the dark void appeared a blue eyeball with a violet iris. The rift and eyeball together were about the size of an adult's head. The rift-eye floated up above the tar wall with the eyeball inside pivoting around, looking for the target. It eventually spotted the britemetal creature up in the air.

"It's a flying britemetal! Very high up! Too high for ranged weaponry!" Inle reported.

Chenoa’s eyes widen as she hears the attacks on the mud. “What is that thing out there.” She looks at Zahoet knows that he and the soul arm are having a conversation. She bites her lips internally she is scared. She never should have come here. She is not even a magician. She hears him offering her Thimble. She looks down at it and up at Zahoet raising her eyebrow. Then down at Thimble. “I don’t have any experience with active soul arms. Even my dagger is considered a haunted one.” Then slowly she takes the hilt.

The feeling she gets once she holds it is indescribable. Totally unlike her dagger. This weapon feels alive. A warm feeling rushes over her as well, like there is someone or something protecting her. She looks up at Zahoet and smirks. “I never thought you cared." She swallows her fear as best she can and looks at him. "Do you have any idea how to beat that thing?”

White-hot wrath filled him as he saw bullets hit the house, but whereas others lost it, his anger focused him. He needed to get away from his current position. He was going to rip that thing out of the sky, then rip its bones while it was still alive. Taking in his position relative to the others with quick glances in between the others and listening to their intel, he quickly switched his aura to speed himself up and dove for Zahoet's wall, rolling to his feet smoothly as he hit the ground in a tumble. As soon as he was in, he once more switched his aura to keep the others aided.

With the intel Inle was relaying, Stormy growled. "I have three bowcasters in my armory, but it's on the other side of the cabin...!"

Chenoa teasing him at least boded better that the worst case scenario, but the way her voice asked if he could beat it belied the fact that she was still afraid. "No." Zahoet said somewhat irritated, and he probably would have been scolded by Thimble if he had continued to hold onto him when Chenoa took his soularm. Stormy suddenly warrior tumbled into the mud bunker, the movement still perfect despite his age. "Perfect." The remark not holding anything but genuine relief at Stormy suddenly joining them.

"Now that your here, I can get to work protecting your home Stormy." Zahoet said looking at the Veteran, "Once I explain it to Chenoa, we'll need a distraction." He was pretty sure that Stormy would agree since it would protect his Granddaughter.

"OK, quick and simple." He looked at his best friend, who had his soularm in her hand. It still made him uncomfortable to have anyone else holding Thimble but it was the Ol' Man's plan after all. "You are gonna dart to that area by Stormy's home." He pointed to the closest area that he could see, then pointed off to the side. "While I run to the other side. When you get there, put your back against the wall and hold Thimble out as far as you can and don't fight him. I'll conjure a bunker like this around Stormy's house from both points. You have to make it or I'll crush the building, I need both points to make it stable."

Seeing how uncomfortable she was, he calmed his voice away from the more fierce one he had adopted while explaining. "Don't worry, once you're in place I'll be summoning mud to protect us. You can do this." He put his hand on Chenoa's shoulder to reassure her, while shifting to look back at Stormy.

"Leave protecting them to us. Can you distract it so we can make it?" His tone returning to a more determined and focused one as bullets kept making wet pattering sounds as they sunk into the mud above them.

Chenoa’s thoughts are interrupted as they are joined by an older man. He seems to be a warrior. She listens to Zahoet’s plan. “Go to the corner and hold out Thimble so you can do your magic. And no matter what keep him steady.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Her head nods. “I will do my best Zahoet, just let me know when you two are ready.” She looks at the older man. “Thank you for providing the distraction.”

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