Thread Status: Closed
Players involved: Kila, Sparx
Characters involved: Cyrus (Sparx), Kazu (Kila), Oliver (Sparx)
Setting: Eden
Time: Mid-morning, the 25th of Haliea
Weather: Sunny and clear, the day is starting to warm up, and there's a pleasant breeze
Kazu rushed through the halls of his manor, his pace never breaking into a jog. Commoners jogged, and he was not a commoner. He had thrown his study doors open, and a flurry of scrolls and books followed behind him, held aloft by the man's magic. Some fell to the floor with a clatter, but he gave them no thought; Cyrus would pick them up. He'd kept the man at his side since their meeting nearly six weeks ago. This was no time to think of his new, albeit rather unwilling, friend. He had been up since the crack of dawn, pouring over his notes, when the paper arrived.
And the news had him feeling sick.
Aerithe, Oracle of Zarkos, had died that morning in Prerio in front of an entire crowd of witnesses. It was believed she had suffocated, likely killed by her own god. It had only been three weeks since the wolf queen's death. Six since the human oracle's death. What did it all mean?
He had barely processed his decent down the stairs, and he was suddenly at the kitchen doors with barely enough time to throw them open with a wave of magic. Gods, he was tired.
"Oliver!" he said loudly--polite men didn't yell at their butlers, and Oliver could always hear Kazu throughout the house--as he made his way to the small table in the kitchen nook. There was no need for them to use the dining room; it was just the three of them, after all. "I need two cups of coffee, please, brewed strong, with cream and sugar. And a bottle of brandy, please," he paused and snapped his fingers, looking off into space as if he'd been struck by a grand idea, "Scratch that, make it a lot of coffee. I'll also need all the bacon and eggs we have. Oh, or brain food, perhaps? No. All the food. No, make what you think will be best." Kazu waffled between food options as he sat down, piling his scrolls and books on the table in front of him.
The bags under his eyes were dark against his fair skin. It was hardly a surprise; the man hadn't slept much in the past weeks, if at all, and the only decent sleep he seemed to get was when Oliver quite literally shooed him and Cyrus off to bed for a few hours. Kazu's study had begun to look like that of a madman's, with open books and scrolls marked with notes strung up on the walls, each one somehow connected to the oracle deaths. It was maddening. Absolutely maddening! And they kept dying!
They needed to stop! Dying!
And where the hell was Cyrus? What could be taking him so long!
"Cyrus, we have work to be doing! Another one died!"
Players involved: Kila, Sparx
Characters involved: Cyrus (Sparx), Kazu (Kila), Oliver (Sparx)
Setting: Eden
Time: Mid-morning, the 25th of Haliea
Weather: Sunny and clear, the day is starting to warm up, and there's a pleasant breeze
Kazu rushed through the halls of his manor, his pace never breaking into a jog. Commoners jogged, and he was not a commoner. He had thrown his study doors open, and a flurry of scrolls and books followed behind him, held aloft by the man's magic. Some fell to the floor with a clatter, but he gave them no thought; Cyrus would pick them up. He'd kept the man at his side since their meeting nearly six weeks ago. This was no time to think of his new, albeit rather unwilling, friend. He had been up since the crack of dawn, pouring over his notes, when the paper arrived.
And the news had him feeling sick.
Aerithe, Oracle of Zarkos, had died that morning in Prerio in front of an entire crowd of witnesses. It was believed she had suffocated, likely killed by her own god. It had only been three weeks since the wolf queen's death. Six since the human oracle's death. What did it all mean?
He had barely processed his decent down the stairs, and he was suddenly at the kitchen doors with barely enough time to throw them open with a wave of magic. Gods, he was tired.
"Oliver!" he said loudly--polite men didn't yell at their butlers, and Oliver could always hear Kazu throughout the house--as he made his way to the small table in the kitchen nook. There was no need for them to use the dining room; it was just the three of them, after all. "I need two cups of coffee, please, brewed strong, with cream and sugar. And a bottle of brandy, please," he paused and snapped his fingers, looking off into space as if he'd been struck by a grand idea, "Scratch that, make it a lot of coffee. I'll also need all the bacon and eggs we have. Oh, or brain food, perhaps? No. All the food. No, make what you think will be best." Kazu waffled between food options as he sat down, piling his scrolls and books on the table in front of him.
The bags under his eyes were dark against his fair skin. It was hardly a surprise; the man hadn't slept much in the past weeks, if at all, and the only decent sleep he seemed to get was when Oliver quite literally shooed him and Cyrus off to bed for a few hours. Kazu's study had begun to look like that of a madman's, with open books and scrolls marked with notes strung up on the walls, each one somehow connected to the oracle deaths. It was maddening. Absolutely maddening! And they kept dying!
They needed to stop! Dying!
And where the hell was Cyrus? What could be taking him so long!
"Cyrus, we have work to be doing! Another one died!"
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