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<b>Thread Status:</b> Closed
<b>Players involved:</b> Kila, Roma
<b>Characters involved:</b> Brianna (Kila), Zaeren (Roma)
<b>Setting:</b> All of Sleibte
<b>Time:</b> Late at night, Haliea 25
<b>Weather:</b> Clear with storms rolling in on the horizon; heat lightning is present and common as thunder softly rumbles over the plains

Brianna had been out for a while.

Zaeren had carried her back to the cabin in the woods, and she'd been in and out of consciousness for parts of it. She recalled him opening the dark cabin and lighting a fire before he set her down on the furs on the floor. She recalled vaguely gesturing to her bag, though if words came out she couldn't say for sure. She continued to fade in and out as the different sensations overcame her--the wound being cleaned (that hurt quite a bit), her hair being tied back, the oily feeling of ointments being rubbed into the wound (she half recalled crying out and raking her claws through the fur blankets), and then... everything went dark.

And it stayed dark.

She was alone in her mind, surrounded by darkness, with herself being the only point of light around. She was in a pool, just floating on the surface, hair splayed out around her, completely numb to everything going on in the waking world. And it was quiet. Blissfully, peacefully silent. And then the thought occurred to her...

Am I dead?

It was her first thought in this world--her subconscious.

*You're not dead,* said a soft male voice from her right. Brianna turned her head in response, and there, sitting on the water's surface, was Kazae, the white lion. He stared at her with contemplative eyes, golden mane blazing like a fire, further illuminating the dark nothingness that surrounded them. He tilted his head and spoke again, *Would you rather be?*

No...? Brianna responded hesitantly. No. I'm rather glad I'm not dead. She chuckled.

So... if I'm not dead, am I dreaming?

*Ah,* said a feminine voice from her left, *Now there's the million gold question.* Brianna instantly knew this voice to be that of Danae, the kitsune. She turned her head and met the ebony beast's scarlet eyes. Unlike Kazae she was barely distinguishable from the darkness around her. The kitsune gave a swish of her many beautiful tails as she continued, *Not dead. Not dreaming. You just are, my dear.*

Kazae was quick to add on, *Your body is healing itself, and has been. Your light magic has...* he trailed off, as if uncertain of how to continue. Brianna watched him chew at his claws pensively, and she found herself trying to sit up in the water, though she was unable to.

Kazae?

*We can't sugar coat this, dear, it's best we just come clean with her.* It was the first time Brianna had ever heard Danae speak with... was that tenderness?

There were several awkwardly quiet moments as Kazae licked his paw and ran it over his ear and face. It felt as if Brianna had walked in on something she wasn't supposed to see--like she'd discovered a secret that she still wasn't quite privy to. Guys, what is going on? I'm so sick of you both knowing more about me than I do! she cried out, frustration at the edges of her voice.

The two spirit weapons locked eyes for a split moment and nodded in unison.

*Your magic is increasing. Whether you're aware of it or not, you're using your light magic right now to heal yourself.* Kazae's voice was as warm as the sun, and the more Brianna looked at him... the more his words seemed to ring true. Had his mane always blazed like that? Somewhere deep in her heart she knew it hadn't. *And with this new well of power comes greater risks.*

*The brighter the light becomes, the darker the shadow,* Danae added with a soft chuckle, though her words were tinged with concern. *There's so much more to you than you can imagine, Brianna... we just... can't quite tell you...*

*Because even we're uncertain--*

*We don't have all the answers you seem to think we have. Kazae and I just know the parts of you that you know, just... a bit more intimately.*

Ah, so it's still a riddle... Brianna sighed, though as she closed her eyes she felt a strange semblance of peace over not having all the answers. If even they were still in the dark, then maybe everything would be okay.

...

So how do I wake up?

*Oh my sweet, foolish girl,* Danae said.

*The answer is simple. All you need to do is*

*Open your eyes.* Their voices combined into one, and the kelahati found herself compelled to do exactly as they said...

She opened her eyes and found herself staring straight up at the ceiling.

The firelight was flickering gently, casting soft shadows that danced over the cabin's dark rustic walls. Even the dragon's skull mounted on the wall seemed less threatening than it had before. The soft crackling of the dwindling fire was a homey comfort, and outside the chirps of crickets mingled with the distant rumble of thunder. She could smell the humidity on the wind through cracked windows, and the air was bursting with the smell of rain. It would turn into a stormy night...

Aside from the fire in the fireplace the cabin was dark. A glance out the window told her it was well after sunset; she could see flickers of starlight between flashes of distant lightning. It was only then that her stomach began to growl. Ravenously. And it was at that moment that the obvious question came to the forefront of her mind:

How the fuck long had she out for?

As she tried to get up to remedy her painfully empty belly a sharp jolt radiated down her spine, and she gasped a little more sharply than she'd intended. Propped up on one elbow and halfway between being rolled onto her back it came into stark clarity just how far Zaeren had gone in treating her wound. She was shirtless, save for the bandages that wrapped around her exposed breasts, and there were either several layers--as the wound wasn't seeping through--or the wound was already scabbing over. But judging from the need for bandages, that likely wasn't the case.

But gods above did it hurt.

Her eyes fell on the man sleeping next to her. The man who had supported her as she walked out of the dragon halls at her own foolish request, carried her back home, and then so tenderly cared for her... Let him rest, she thought. It's the least he deserves.

She managed to work her body until she was sitting upright, but each movement of her spine elicited a soft mewl of a pained gasp from her lips. Damn, she hadn't felt pain like that in a long time. It was like fire in her back and shoulders, and one wrong move would have her tearing up in pain.

But at least the pain meant she was alive.

Character's Name: Riath
Age: Unknown
Gender: Female
Species: War Demon
Relationships: Charlotte (Master), TBA

Abilities:
Necromancy - Riath can draw power from the deaths of creatures, using the power of the death to fuel spells. With this power she can heal or harm, though the stronger spells require a stronger creature's death. She can also reanimate dead bodies, though this doesn't require her to kill to cast.

Shapeshifting - Riath can turn into a raven and a cobra.

Appearance:
Riath is somewhat pale woman with long red hair that stretches to her hips. She has crimson eyes, matching the color of her hair. She stands at about 5'8, though often appears much larger due to the pair of black wings that sprout from her back. She doesn't always have these wings, but will often have them, only retracting them when they would be inconvenient. While they are not strong enough for flight, she can use them to glide.

Riath will typically wear plain, simple outfits designed for comfort and sturdiness, but will occasionally wear a crimson, somewhat revealing dress.

Personality:
Despite what her abilities would suggest, Riath is quite possibly one of the nicest people you could ever meet. She does her best to keep her anger in check, and goes out of her way to try to help others around her. Though she has the strength and stamina typical of War demons, she lacks the mental state required to use them to fight. While not incapable of combat, she is not a warrior, and the idea of taking the life of anything sentient is almost incomprehensible to her.

She is polite, calm, and gentle whenever possible, and is the opposite of what one would expect from a war demon.

<b>Thread Status:</b> Closed
<b>Players involved:</b> Kila, Kokopuffs
<b>Characters involved:</b> Fallow (Kila), Lijuan (Kokopuffs)
<b>Setting:</b> Sodanryn Forest and the surrounding areas
<b>Time:</b> Current, early morning
<b>Weather:</b> Partly cloudy with a mild breeze

The gentle light of the early morning sun streamed through the canopy of the Sodanryn forest, casting shifting, dappled shadows across the dense underbrush. Fallow navigated the deer trails with surprising ease--he was a deer kelahati, after all, but more importantly this forest had been his home for as long as he could remember. He knew these secret trails like the back of his slender, pale hands.

It had been a startling turn of events that had proven to be the catalyst for this change. Meeting Lijuan had gotten the young man curious about life outside his forest, and after many weeks spent with the kirin he had decided to take the very, very brave step of venturing outside his forest home (though first they'd have to leave the deep heart of the ancient forest).

And that brought him to where he currently was, traipsing about deer trails and heading southwest towards civilization. Redstone Keep. It seemed like a good first step on his venture outside Sodanryn, being a mountain haven for humans, dwarves, and kelahati alike. He was quite certain he'd picked a good place to see, at least from the map's point of view. He'd seen the mountains on his occasional trips to the forest outskirts, and this was his chance to see them up close and personal. And most importantly: he wasn't alone.

Lijuan was a comforting presence for the man. Her boldness gave him a sense of safety, like they could face any challenge they came across. He took a moment to pat the bow strapped to his side, a small smile with a whisper of confidence playing on his alabaster features. This was short-lived as his silent contemplation was broken by the clattering sound of his antlers striking a low hanging branch, which sent his head whirling in the opposite direction.

"Gaack!" he cried, staggering back a few steps, working quickly to right himself. "S-sorry, sorry. I didn't notice that branch..." As if the branch would be a problem for Lijuan, who was much shorter than Fallow's tall, lanky frame. Color flushed to his cheeks as he ducked below the branch, taking extra care that his rack was well out of the way. He had long since shed his velvet, revealing the beautiful dark navy of his antlers that had been growing beneath greyish velvet.

As he continued down the trail, he quietly added, "We'll reach Sodanryn's outskirts by nightfall, I should think..."

HEY! So you know how in all languages we have phrases that are based on our culture? WELLL GUESS WHATTTTT! 8D Lets make some for the species and characters in this world.

Note: Any on this thread and posted to the masterlist (which will be added to this post) can be used in RP for characters! Like for instance they could be based on a certain god or a swear by their species lifestyle.

If you suggest one just please add if it's geared towards a certain species, god, or what 8D~!

It had been early day in the market when the Hollow Priestess made her way through in search of some dry fish and a loaf of bread.  Neri was never one for excess, as was obvious by her plan clothing, plain hair, and lack of extravagant makeup.  A few men off to the side, however, were muttering to themselves about how Neri had healed a man they had intended to kill.  Worse was that they seemed personally offended at the plainness of the Tume elf.  This brought the three men to approach her as she headed away from the market, and express their displeasure.  Most of it sounded to be that she meddled in other people's business, and a few comments about her being a woman, and therefor, inferior.  Neri put her head down and gave a small nod before speaking in a calm, quiet tone and all but shutting her sad eyes.

"I only wish to be on my way.  I do not mean to offend."

A hand snatched out to grab her by the neck, though it met only open air as Neri swiveled her midsection and upper body in an almost snake-like motion.  Attention tried to keep a balance between the three of them as she set her basket down with the food she had purchased.  Another man attempted to grab her around the waste, catching little more than air as she slipped to the floor on her back.  Legs twisted wide in a circle to shift her weight and balance about until she returned to her feet slightly outside of the circle of fellows whom had intended to surround her.  The elvish agility on full display to any looker's on as she attempted to keep a fair distance.

"You don't...need to...do this."

She darted this way and that around the crowd as she attempted to avoid the hands that seemed to be sweeping out to snatch her or hit her.  Long, slender, slightly toned arms rose to knock away a few of the hands as she continued to do her best to keep them from hurting her.  Catching a man by the sleeve, she tugged him toward her so that his body ended up between herself and the kick of another attacker, causing an 'Ouughf' of pain to escape one.  Backing up, she rolled her upper body up onto a box, twisting her upper body to stand on it, though catching the side of a stick to her outer thigh as one of the men opted to pick up something of a weapon and make use of it on the Hollow Priestess.  This caused her to slip off the box where she had been intending to stand and falling onto the unforgiving dirt of the market floor.  Grit and road dust kicked up onto the olive flesh of her face and into her eyes.  This made it difficult to deal with the kick that found it's way into her stomach.

"Augh!"

The pain exploded from her middle outward.  When the second one came, she tried to catch it and pin it between her ribs and bicep.  As she did, she rolled and sent the attacker rolling over her.  This saw him face-first into the box that she had failed to climb.  She took a few gulping, coughing breaths as she made her way to her feet and stumbled backward.  Seeing one of her attackers, she jumped off backward into him to knock him off balance.  They were going to hurt her badly if she didn't start to actually apply a degree of offense.  When the next fist came close to her face, she caught their sleeve and pulled them in, sending a foot to the side of his knee to bring him to the ground.  Hand brought a chop down to the man's throat hard enough to disrupt his breathing, but not enough to break the cartilage of his throat.  Impact landed right were the jaw met the neck, inducing a combination of nausea and labored breathing that would keep him busy for at least a few minutes.  Still holding him by the sleeve, she widened her stance and gave a sharp downward tug, sending him into the dust and found the man cradling himself in the fetal position.

By now, the first one whom had initiated charged forward, catching her across the mouth hard enough that blood smeared her mouth as her inner cheek cut against her teeth.  She staggered back a bit from the pain, but tried to keep her wits about her.  A boot came across to her midsection, which she caught out of reflex as muscle memory saw her raising the kicking leg slightly higher as a skip-step brought a hard kick up to the attacker's genitals.  As he fell to the ground, the only one left was the one whom had picked up a piece of wood and was coming back toward her.  An arm came up to block the incoming blow, snapping the board and feeling a shot of pain through her as her forearm nearly gave way from the impact.  Hand reeled back and shoved forward hard and low as she hammered her palm into the attacker's bottom rib.  This was targeting the rib that was attached only with a thin strip of cartilage that broke off on impact and bounced the rib against the lung.

The attacker's eyes bulged out as he started to struggle to breathe.  Each breath pressed lung against bone.  He doubled over and fell to the ground as  Neri stumbled back toward her basket...only to find it having been trampled by onlookers.  Eyes looked a bit more sad as she saw the food she had just purchased get destroyed along with her basket.  Arm cradling her side and blood still leaking from her mouth, she decided it might have been a mistake to press her luck.  She needed to make some distance between herself and her attackers before they caught their breath and decided to make a second attempt.  Healing herself was going to take time and patience, and would certainly be harder when hunger set in.

Character's Name: Neri Hollowhearth

Nicknames: Hollow Priestess

Age: 412 years old

Gender: Female

Species: Tume Elf

Abilities:
Agility: Neri carries with her the natural agility innate to the Tume elves. This aptitude was honed both as a member of Tume childhood, and out of necessity on her own as an exiled elf. This allowed her the ability to outrun and evade with the skill of someone use to making use of the obstacles around them rather than fighting against them. For this reason, she seems to be better at maneuvering through crowded markets and packed alleyways over open fields.
Martial Technique: A lost person with no family learned to defend themselves quickly, lest they end up dead in a ditch in the land of the demons. Although fighting is never what Neri will want to do first, her natural agility and knowledge of the mechanics of the body allowed her to train herself in a sort of close quarters martial arts based on the joints and balance of her enemies. This style can quickly dislocate limbs, but is largely based around ensuring that both combatants are able to walk away.
Stealth: Before her exile, she lived like any other Tume elf would. She learned to monitor her breathing and slow her heart rate. She learned to roll her steps and keep to the shadows to remain virtually silent, and the best ways to remain hidden. Once she was exiled, this became more than simply a talent instilled in all Tume elves, and more a means of survival.
Healing [Light Magic]: The source of her exile, Neri shows aptitude in magic that allows her to mend the body and ease the spirit. Rended flesh can be pieced back together, pain can be lessened, and the sick can be restored to health. Although this is the reason Neri cannot return to her people, and regardless of the truth of the situation, she sees this ability as a gift from Malina...though she may not understand to what end.
Anatomical Knowledge: In both study and practice, Neri has learned a great deal of the anatomy of the various species of Antarsia. Some of this, in her early years as a healer, came in the unfortunate form of trial and error. Currently, however, she had a fairly intimate knowledge of many species, as well as several tomes she has written over the last century on the subject so as to have a better reference guide for the more rare ones.

Appearance:
Neri is fairly tall and lithe, though her frame is surprisingly toned. Her body's long, slender arms end in long fingers with nails kept relatively short. Most of her body is obscured by long robes in tan and white made of inexpensive flax or linen that flows when she moves, but offers neither a particular level of protection nor a sign of any real wealth. Her face is a long oval shape with almond shaped eyes that tilt slightly down at the side by her ears. Her smooth, serene complexion frames her sad, kind eyes that seem to look at the world in general with a mixture of hope and pity. Her hair is long and a deep black resting against the slightly olive color of her skin, and is usually tied back with a central braid that keeps the hair from her face while either side of the braid's hair is left loose to flow about her body as her robes do.
Personality:
Neri is a calm, quiet soul. These days, she simply wants to do more good than harm, and is looking to make the most of the gift given to her by the Gods. She is very slow to anger, and in times of conflict she is more likely to leave her pride by the wayside if it means no one will get hurt. That being said, she is not someone inclined to let the innocent suffer if she is able to do something to prevent it...even at the cost of her own health and safety. Neri tends to think of those around her has having substantially more value that she does, and because of this she seeks out to help others before herself.
History:
Neri Windwhisper, now Neri Hollowhearth, was born in Kidwe, in a small quarter were the Tume elves of Kidwe tended to keep to their own. Traditions were important, and so her parents taught the lessons of agile movement and stealthy hunting that had kept the Tume elves alive since the time before large cities and markets. She was also taught about the Pure Gods, and primarily of Malina the Goddess of elves.
Neri herself never sought out magic, but rather seemed to have a natural aptitude for Light and Healing. It had started with wounded animals, wherein Neri had placed her hands on a wounded bird with a broken wing, and in a slow rise of light saw the bird take back to the air. Wide eyed, she thanked Malina for the gift that allowed her to mend the body. Traditions had dictated what would happen, but at the same time she believed that not telling her family would be like renouncing the Gods. This was the moment that led to her exile.
Her family did not see her ability to heal as a gift, but a curse. It had been said that death and misfortune followed Tume healers. For the good of their family and society, Neri was stripped of her family's name and sent to the demonic city of the Famine Fortress. Their hope was that if she were to hurt people with her mere presence, it should be the demons. The trip was a long one, and one filled with tearful goodbyes. It was not as if her family did not love her. They loved Neri very much, but it was their fear of the curse she would bring to them that forced their hand.
An adolescent Neri grew up hungry in the Famine Fortress streets. She would sneak about, stealing food to survive, and often times using the city center's hustle and bustle to hide and out-maneuver the guards. One day, however, she had a vision. Well, it might have been a vision, but just as easily could have been a fever dream brought on by a poor diet and starvation. She was still hiding her gift, and she was still wasting what the Gods had seen fit to give her. She was a healer, and she was healing no one.
It started as a simple homeless woman on the streets of the Famine Fortress that happened to be able to keep the loser of a knife fight from bleeding out. Then there were stories of a vagabond in the low district that, for a small fee, could correct a crippled limb. Eventually, over the course of nearly a decade, Neri was able to save enough to purchase a small shack that she converted into a temple. When asked her name, Neri called herself Hollowhearth...as she had no family. The kind healer with the sad eyes came to be known as The Hollow Priestess. A good soul in a dark place, willing to help many a wounded and weary soul in the search for peace.
For the next several decades, Neri patched up the sick and wounded, learning and studying as she went so that she might better understand the mysteries of the body. More complex wounds could be healed. In a city of excess, someone like Neri had an easy time remaining unnoticed save by those seeking someone like her specifically. She wasn't rich. She didn't seek fame, wealth, or status. She was content to live her life in a small shack with a shrine to Malina, surrounded by handwritten medical books that detailed the anatomy of the various species of whom she had mended.

Roleplay Sample:
The day was late, and Neri was just finishing the last of her notes. Quill left paper and was cleaned off before it was returned to the table. It had been a good day. No one had died, and the few whom had come in were mostly just ill with some manner of fever. No poisonings. No stabbings. She set the few soiled linens off to a basket to be washed the next morning while the ink on the pages of the book dried. A small, simple smile kept to her lips, in spite of her slightly saddened eyes. Steps carried a natural grace to them as she walked smooth and even, still nearly silent. There was no reason to abandon old lessons. The dim light of a few candles kept her keen eyes able to set to their tasks.
There was a faint knock at the door to the small shack which caused Neri's head to raise slightly. She wondered who might have come at this late hour before she remembered that blood loss and injury knew no schedule. Moving quickly to the door, which was close thanks in part to the small size of the building itself, the door was eased open with a small creaking sound. Eyes widened ever so slightly and a blink came to her face. Was...was that who she thought it was? No. Why here? What would bring someone like that down to her humble shack?
"Yes, Your Majesty?"

<b>Thread Status:</b>(open/closed)<b>Players involved:</b> Sphinx + ???
<b>Characters involved:</b> Imran + ???
<b>Setting:</b> Center of the Cutpurse Plains
<b>Time:</b> Current, Noon
<b>Weather:</b> Clear, sunny, and warm

Imran winged his way towards Seliel, admiring the open grassland and cloudless sky. Cutpurse Plains was one of the Ruhk’s favorite locations, despite its usual reputation amongst merchants. He only had to worry about bandits if they were airborne, and besides, the place had a lovely view. The gentle swaying of grasses and wildflowers looked like the waves of a strange ocean, from above.

Besides, Imran wasn’t afraid of a little thievery. He liked to make use of his trips between Seliel and Malseka by doing a little thievery himself. After all, who better to steal from than a thief? They piled up all the valuable things into one place like a dragon with its hoard. It was terribly convenient.

This high up, Imran could see many potential targets. The Ruhk’s eyes, as sharp as those of the eagle he took after, homed in on one suspicious looking group. He clapped his way to the air above them and circled like a vulture who’d spotted a carcass. In the next moment, Imran swooped down and up once more, snatching a pack straight from the back of one of the members. He really hoped these were thieves. He was pretty sure these were thieves. He clutched his spoils and angled his wings for another dive.

Character's Name: Imran

Age: 62

Gender: Male

Species: Ruhk (Torden)

Abilities:
Strength: As a Torden, Imran is among the strongest of the Ruhk species. Bending steel is not a difficult task, and carrying an elephant in his talons is as easy to him as carrying a mouse might be to an owl. The strength of a Torden Ruhk is enough to rival or even overcome that of a western dragon, and Imran is no different.
Speed: Imran’s size makes him slower than other Ruhk, and less maneuverable in the air than his Hava cousins. Though able to keep pace with a western dragon, wyverns speed past him.
Storm Magic: Imran can summon storms with the beat of his wings, thunder, lightning, and a deluge of rain appearing in the vortices of air flung from the tips of his wings. Of course, Imran only creates storms when he uses his magic, and can fly without sowing thunder in his wake.

Appearance: Imran has the appearance of a huge Bateleur Eagle. Unlike a Bateleur, he has a wingspan of 58 feet. His beak and talons are a deep black, and the skin of his face is golden rather than red. Long spurs grow from the backs of his legs, and when he lifts the plumage of his crest, golden eyespots are revealed. Other than this his feathers remain the same as those of his smaller counterpart, with primarily black plumage marked by grey shoulders and a chestnut mantle. The underside of his wings is a startling white. Imran enjoys wearing masks.

Personality: caring | rash | materialistic | uninhibited | charming
Imran is a creature with a lot of emotions, and he wears all of them on his metaphorical sleeve. He has no inhibitions about saying exactly what he means all of the time, and this often gets him into trouble. Not that he minds trouble, of course. The Ruhk is large enough and strong enough that there are few things he considers worth fearing, and so he flies headfirst into danger more often than not.
A gentle giant who is surprisingly charming for being a giant bird, Imran gets along well with people of all species. Except perhaps dragons, but it isn’t for lack of trying. Unlike his kin, Imran doesn’t seek to eat dragons. But like his kin, he does consider it good sport to catch them, usually taking a scale or two for his troubles. Imran doesn’t mean any harm, but what he considers harm is probably a lot different than that of his victims. His love for shiny things tends to overwhelm his qualms about harming others. Imran would argue that the dragons are lucky he didn’t try and eat them, instead.

History: Imran had a very normal childhood for a Ruhk, learning to fly and hunt, and then flying and hunting. Now he lives as a traveling merchant, offering wares of rare pelts, bones, and other hunted curios.

Roleplay Sample: See my Hajra Myrahel application