End of Light ➷ High Fantasy - o/a

[vulture,]

Korrik Gorestrike
Orc | Berserker | Tags: Open | Location: Vrador - Keep

It wasn't every day that one saw a seven and a half foot tall, green-skinned orc lumbering through town. The stable hand's surprise was almost palpable when Korrik arrived at the Capital's gates. Only used to the care of the finest horses, being handed the reins to a giant black boar that was dressed for war was definitely not something the stable hand had ever expected to experience. The shock carried by the human was shared among the rest of the populace. An orc among the city of humans (and now elves) stuck out like-- well, like an orc in a city of elves and humans.

As Korrik walked the pristine streets of the human capital, his face was alight with joy and amazement. He had heard stories of places like this, beautiful stone buildings that were adorned with flags, sconces, and windows. The streets were busy with merchants and crafters alike, hollering about the quality and price of their wares. Some would pick out the orc and call to him as a warrior, trying to draw him to their selection of weapons, but most would fall silent and stare open mouthed at the unfamiliar race. It wasn't very long ago that an orc wouldn't be allowed to set foot in the city. They were declared savages and dangerous beasts. Now, this dangerous beast was grinning like a child as he approached the gates of the keep.

"Halt. State your business, green-skin." The guards drew their spears together to block the stranger's passage. Korrik stood before these two intricately armored guards in his own form of ceremonial garb. His trousers had been stitched by his wife from beasts that they had slain together. They were made of leather and reinforced by patches of thick wolf fur. An iron belt held it all together and his torso remained bare. Tunics and sleeves were only detriments on the battle field. Two straps did wrap around his chest, however, these served as the holders for two massive battleaxes that rested on his back. The weapons were far too large for any human to try to single-hand, but his size and strength allowed him to dual wield them with ease. Around his neck hung a blessed talisman, gifted to him by the clan's shaman before he left, it carried the skull of a hawk for perception, the claw of a bear for strength, and the fang of a wolf for speed. His thick dark hair was twisted into braids adorned with equally sacred feathers and beads. His skin was covered in markings of white and red, each symbol and color signifying a different blessing for his journey.

"Well I don't really have my own business-- you see I always wanted to open up a tavern as a boy, but we don't have those where I'm from. I think maybe one day I'd like to settle down and open my own little business." He smiled wishfully. The happiness slowly fell from his face as he took in the guard's confused looks. Wrong business. Korrik reached into a small satchel that hung from his belt and fashioned his letter of summons, handing it to one of the guards. "Guess I've gotta go punch a dragon or something." He shrugged with a chuckle. At last, he was given permission to enter the courtyard and was greeted by the most pointlessly grand stairs he had ever seen. That must be where the council is.

Ko'Zasari
Khajiit | Necromancer | Tags: Open | Location: Vrador - Council Chamber

If not for her coating of fur, the dank cell she had called home for-- how long? The voices said she had lived three lifetimes there in the dark; whispering to the shadows and etching runes in the dirt with her claws. In truth, it had been an entire rotation- one entire year locked away like some rat. Change was coming. He promised her. The gods were growing louder-- stronger-- hungry. Bring them to me... "Bring who?" Hide your power... feast upon their fear... it is your time... "What do you mean?" Ko'Zasari hissed at the shadows in her cell. Her ebony tail lashed behind her in annoyance. Why did the Dark One have to be so cryptic all the time?

Suddenly-- footsteps, the clanging of armor, and... the murmuring of a prayer? The faint light of a torch became visible around the corner of the dungeon. The humanoid cat crawled towards the bars of her cell, wrapping her lanky fingers around the cold metal. They come for you... Her eyes reflected the faint light as she strained to see who approached her domain. The guards all looked the same under all of their armor. But this one was haunted by two spirits that she knew well. He had been the one to keep her locked away all this time-- the captain. Perpetually followed by the spirit of the two he had murdered in cold blood and blamed an innocent for. They spoke to her, telling her of his weaknesses, his insecurities. Beside him was a man dressed in an over the top robe, adorned in holy symbols and splashing water about. The priest whispered blessings of protection and prayers with every step. Ko'Za's eyes met his and his words took on an edge of panic. There was no light anymore. He may as well have been singing nursery rhymes. There was no protection from the darkness.

Kazodoch, God of Death, spouted profanities that only the necromancer could hear. He cursed the priest and shunned his futile attempts at protection. Ko'Zasari was laughing almost maniacally by the time the cell door was thrown open. "Ko'Zasari will not hurt you, man with ghosts." She cackled as her hands were bound in shackles. Her attire was stained with dirt and blood from years of prison.

"Get moving." The guard snapped with no hint of warmth in his tone. "The council thinks you have a purpose-- though I do not understand why they would give a demon any freedom." He edged the mage along roughly, guiding her to the dungeon's entrance.

"Ko'Za is no demon. Ko'Za speaks to the demons." She corrected him, snapping her sight to an empty corner of the stockade and letting out another laugh, "Yes, yes, they are all very soft. So delicate." She crooned to the unseen figure. Do as they say. They will bring you to me.

The sunlight was blinding. Just a few hours in darkness would lead to a sensitivity, let alone an entire year without light. The air struck Ko'Zasari's nostrils with a crisp welcoming scent. All she had known was mud and decay for so long. Not that she had much of a problem with decay-- just mud; it stuck to her fur and got under her claws. There was no upside to mud. Decay meant friends.

The council chamber was no place for the likes of herself. It was made of marble with accents of pure gold. The council chairs resigned on a higher platform, giving the ambassadors even more of an air of superiority over the common folk. The ceiling stretched higher than any other building in the city and was lined with stained glass windows depicting many triumphs of man: the defeat of the dark elves, the slaying of the goblins, and the capturing of orcish land, to name a few. Everything about the room was pristine. In the chambers, there was no death, no war, only wealth and prosperity.

[nyctomancy]

kel nightscribe
male / high elf / appears 19 / illusionist / tags: open / mentions: ko'za / location: vrador --
WILL RIGHT FOR LATER.

perry palespark
male / halfling / appears late 40s / spore druid / tags: korrik / mentions: x / location: vrador -- keep

Nimble plods steadily through the stone streets of Vrador, steadily trotting on at a snail's post. Perry whistles as a jaunty tune as he passes by the many buildings. It had been many years since he had last been in Vrador, edging on eighty or so, and many things had changed. One thing was for certain however: the hustle and bustle hadn’t. Currently, he was traveling through the market district to get to the Keep, and as he passed some shops, he couldn’t help but jot down things that had caught his eye.

Like a red dress that Corinne would love, a dark, velvety colour that would bring out the specks of gold in her eyes. Or a hand-stitched doll that Astris would adore. Someday. He smiles to himself. After everything is said and done.

Ahead of him, the Keep rose in the distance, a sturdy stone thing, adorned with the flags of the human king. As he approaches, a couple of guards glance his way, but Perry fishes the summons out of the pocket of his vest and is let through without much fuss. The guards almost didn’t seem to believe him at first, like he was too small — or too old — to be one of the folk summoned, but they let him in regardless.

Perhaps it was his clothing that had given them pause. Perry certainly wasn’t dressed for battle, in his practical tunic, comfortable vest, and worn breeches. He wore no armour of any sort, and instead of a helmet to protect his head, he wore an old sun hat with a vermillion ribbon. Aside from the hand carved wooden staff with a wooden raven skull topper, he appeared otherwise unarmed.

Up ahead, he saw another person waiting in the grand courtyard, an orc with two massive battle axes sitting atop an equally armoured boar. Perry guides Nimble up to the duo, practically dwarfed by the feet the orc had on him. “Hello,” He says politely, looking up at the orc with a smile, “Were you summoned as well?”

[Mae;]

nethdani
tiefling // cleric // location: vrador keep

As Carrion trotted into the kingdom, Nethdani pulled her hood up over her horns. She had heared the rumors of the kingdom of Vrador, and she knew that her red skin would not be a welcome sight. Vrador was notorious for shunning anyone who didn't look like them, or possessed the gift of magic. Both of these applying to Nethdani, tension began to slowly set in. As they began to reach the towns on the edge of territory, she felt herself tighten her grip on the reigns. Just keep your head down, and keep moving forward, she thought, you were called here for a reason.

As Carrion took her through the streets, she could feel their eyes fix upon her. Her legs, arms, and even a fraction of her face were visible to the onlookers. Her skin was a deep, saturated red color, and there was no way of hiding that. You know what? If they're going to look, might as well give them something to look at. In a swift motion she pulled her hood off of her head, exposing her slightly curved horns and snow white hair. Immediately following this, she heard the gasps of the townsfolk, and even heard a few profanities shouted her way. Her eyes glowed yellow as she looked at each of them, causing them to shift quickly away from her, but it wasn't quiet their voices. Of course this wasn't new to her, but it still stung.

Keeping her posture upright, she began to approach the castle. Finally, she thought to herself, I don't think I would have been able to hold myself back from those villagers any longer. While she was a healer, she wasn't above throwing a few damage-dealing blasts. As they trotted closer, Nethdani spotted a large green orc, and a smaller human-looking man beside him. She pulled Carrion's reigns to a halt, and dismounted. Walking up to the guards, they quickly exchanged glances with each other as Nethdani pulled out a small scroll and handed it to them. "You were summoned here? Of all people they pick an Infernal?" Nethdani, who was even a little taller than they were, looked at them with glowing eyes. "Yes, and unless you think your King has poor judgment, I would let me through." The guards rolled their eyes and stepped aside, muttering insults as she and Carrion walked by. Focusing again, she spotted the Orc and the Human, and she figured they must be here for the same reason. dropping Carrion's reigns, she began to approach them. "I see we are all arriving at the same time?" She asked with an even tone, her inflection barely phrasing it as a question.

[bunearie]

[ ❥ ] ❝ a m e l i a - r o s e w o o d ❞

━━ ( class; leaf druid) ( race; faerie ) ( location; vrador ) ━━
━━ ( tags; nethdani, perry, korrik --- ) ━━

Unease rose in the fae's stomach as she approached the streets of Vrador. She had never seen anything quite like it. Enormous structures of stone towered either side of her, whilst various beings, many foreign to Amelia, teemed the crowded stalls. She supposed some may regard her as a hermit of sorts, never straying far from her home in the secluded woods of Cethia, although unintentional. The flora and woodland creatures of the forest never gave her much reason to leave, was all. A twinge of homesickness rippled through her chest.

Swallowing her anxiety, Amelia slipped off the back of the pale-brown horse beneath her, of which was affectionately named after the lilies that decorated her homeland. She murmured words of comfort to her mount, who was also nervous from the stream of strangers around them, gentle stroking their muzzle. The faerie fastened her cloak over her shoulders, a delicate thing fashioned from a particularly large leaf, and gingerly led Lily onward towards the stables.

Walking quaintly on quivering limbs, Amelia approached a great formation of stone. Vivid fabrics adorned it's sides, decorated with intricate symbols she could only recognise from her letter of summoning. Beings clad in dense, extravagant armour stood before her, looking down upon Amelia with questioning stares. 'I've.. I've received a calling from the council,' the faerie murmured, a slight tremble to her voice. Although there were only a few feet in height between her and the guards, the difference felt mountainous. Fumbling through the fabric pouches hung from her waist, she finally revealed the scroll of summons.

Granted entrance without too much hassle, Amelia stepped into the grand keep, her eyes wide with curiosity. The ornate decoration of the elaborate building granted a bright shine to her soft, green eyes. Ahead of her she saw a group of figures gathered within the courtyard, all of which were beings completely unfamiliar to her. Quietly, she joined the back of the group, hoping this was where she was meant to be.

Her attention was immediately drawn to the deep, red hues of the person beside her. 'Such beauty...' Amelia thought to herself. Her gaze drifted to the large, green being that stood so high above everyone else, 'It has been many moons since i've beheld a being of such a size,' her gentle eyes glistened with awe. Then to the halfling, of who's face seemed kind, soothing.

Amelia let out a breath she had been holding for much too long, pulling her cloak across herself.

[InfectedHau]

Ssethyis Shimmerscale||Naga||Conjurer||Vrador-Keep||Tagged: Perry, Gorrik, Nethdani, Amelia

The kingdom of man was certainly... something. Ssethyis had very quickly learned that the people of Vrador viewed Naga with more than a little suspicion, and mages perhaps even more so. Which left her in a bit of a bind, seeing as both her primary and secondary means of travel relied on her being a Naga and using magic. She'd never ridden a horse before, and her attempts to were nothing short of disastrous. Horses didn't like her, and the feeling was mutual. She'd been forced to hire a carriage to get her to the capital, which hadn't been cheap. She'd already started composing a list of reimbursements for the council, in addition to her usual fees. Expenses weren't usually something she included, but she also usually didn't have to spend half the time getting there on two legs.

The Naga strode calmly through the capital, almost enjoying the looks that came her way. Most of the suspicion wasn't even from how she looked, she could pass for human at a reasonable distance. Someone who got too close might realize that her skin was a bit too dark, and her eyes were a dead giveaway if anyone happened to meet them, but people weren't looking at her eyes. Most of the stares were drawn to the book at her side, a leather-bound grimoire, worn with use, but still unmistakably a magical tome. Her lightweight robes weren't perhaps in the traditional mage style, but even these people knew magic when they saw it. People crossed to the other side of the street, mothers drew their children close, and guards tightened the grips on their weapons. They didn't like her being there, which was just fine by her. She didn't need their admiration, she just needed their gold. The guards at the Keep showed a bit more decorum, but not much. Indeed, they were probably even less thrilled to see her, they knew what she was and where she was from. "Mind you keep that spellbook closed if you don't want to lose it, snake," one of them growled.

"Oh, don't worry," Ssethyis responded, "You won't sssee any ssspellss from me. Asssuming everyone behaves themssselves." The guard looked like he wanted to say something back, but thought better of it, which the Naga was greatful for. Wouldn't be a good first impression if she had to fight her way into the council chamber. Once in the courtyard, she had a look around, wrinkling her nose at the architecture. All white stone and gold, so tacky. She preferred the inky black and shining silver of the Obsidian Citadel, far easier on the eyes. She also noticed that she was either fashionably early, or they were drastically underestimating the the job. An orc, a halfling, a tiefling, and a faerie. Truly a motley crew if she'd ever seen one. "Ssso," she said, sidling up to the group, "iss thiss everyone? I'll be honesst, I exssspected them to assk for more people. Five doessn't sssseem like enough."

[kuregalis]

Iris || Half-elf || Thirty-one || "Druid" || Tags; Perry, Gorrik, Nethdani, Amelia, Ssethyis

The capital felt...different than the Vardor she knew. So many humans joyously interacting. Like the looming threat of their demise didn't exist. A vendor caught sight of her and smiled, calling her over to look through his wares. They made eye contact and a tinge of fear and disgust flashed across his eyes but he kept smiling. The half-elf walked a bit faster, already feeling sick. Human hospitality was something she could not understand. It was like a campfire. It could be warm and inviting, yet fire will always be fire. No matter how warm and inviting it looked. She cursed at herself silently, reminding that it was her that made the choice to accept the invitation and come back to the Kingdom that had shooed her away initially. In the capital, no less. Iris clenched her fists, making sure that her hood covered her face. Every step she took closer to the Keep felt like manifested dread, sticking to the soles of her feet like they were slowing her down.

After what seemed like days that she had been walking through the capital, she came across the gates of the Keep. Two guards blocked her entry with their spears, already examining her appearance. The half-elf reached into her cloak and the guards tensed up. This did not stop her and she pulled out a paper, opening it carefully in front of them to validate her entry. They looked over it carefully and let her pass, still eyeing the hood that shielded her hair and ears. It didn't take long for her to see a group of...well a group. She stopped just off to the side, close enough to greet them with a head nod. 'It seems that I am...under equipped in this party' thought the half-elf, her eyes peering over to the stables that she had just passed. A strange assortment of mounts could be found in its stalls. No doubt belonged to those who stood before her. Here she stood, no particular weapon or mount in sight, carrying a small rucksack over a mid-length cloak. The feeling of sickness was soon replaced by embarrassment.

Abioye Chand || Human || Forty|| Confessor || Tags; n/a

n/a

[vulture,]

Korrik Gorestrike
Orc | Berserker | Tags: All the People | Location: Vrador - Keep

The massive warrior's eyes filled with pure delight as a tiny man and equally tiny horse strode up to him. "Greetings tiny man!" He boomed ecstatically. Whatever nerves he should be feeling in the moment were completely invisible. In truth, he didn't even really feel anything negative. All he was was excited to set out on a new adventure with new foes and now, a tiny human! "Were you cursed by a witch? It seems like you've lost half of your body... and half of your horse." He observed wisely. Halflings were definitely not a common sight back in the Tribe Lands. Most species there were rather large. Korrik regarded normal humans as 'puny humans', now this little man was perhaps his favorite creature he had ever seen.

Soon, a woman with equally oddly colored skin as his own strode up upon a beautiful horse. He waved happily to the stranger, unbothered by her exotic looks, ever a friendly soul-- even with his battle hardened exterior. "It seems that we all have impeccable timing! Can't be late to the end of the world, after all." He stated assuredly. "I think if I hung around my hut any longer, my wife would've ended my world faster than any dragon." A hearty laugh boomed forth from the orc just as a few others approached. A dainty little creature approached quietly, wearing a leaf on her back. "Don't be shy, dainty woman. We're all friends now! I won't bite, can't speak for the one with a lisp, though." He pointed his thumb towards what seemed to be a human that had a problem with the letter "S". "It takes a special sort of crazy to accept the summons. That special sort of crazy is also the strongest warriors this world has ever known! This is all we need." He flexed his arms for dramatic effect, clearly far too enthusiastic about this gathering and none the wiser to the stress that tormented the land.

Another chuckle rang forth from the orc as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Well I think if we are going to die together, we should at least introduce ourselves. I am Korrik Gorestrike, Berserker of the Northern Rock Clan. My warsteed is--" He looked over his shoulder to where the royal stables sat. Out in front was the deep grey boar, Rippy, splayed out on her back with her tongue lolling out of her mouth like a sleeping dog. Her tusks were coated in silver, brought to a point that had once been used to gore many enemies. Now, they served as a great place to store things. "Well... that's Gutripper. Though it's been some time since she's ripped any guts. She's enjoying retirement. I like to call her Rippy." He spoke like a proud father, watching his boar sun itself on the paved stone while a stable hand tried to poke her into cooperation. Again, he turned his sights to the group ahead of him. "And how about you all?"

Ko'Zasari
Khajiit | Necromancer | Tags: Open | Location: Vrador - Council Chamber

-mumbling to demons in the council chamber-

[Faemyse]

Larlisha
Elf | Druid of the claw | Form: Dire wolf >> Elven | Tags: Everyone | Location: Forest >> Vrador - Keep

Larlisha charged through the forests that were headed towards the massive kingdom of vrador, tongue lolled out the side of her mouth as she enjoyed the wind rushing through her red wolf fur. Nothing felt better than being out in the woods in her favored form of travel! It wasn't until she broke the treeline and into the clearing that marked the start of the kingdom that she finally slowed to a walk and panted, much like any animal would, approaching the guards slowly as they grew defensive and seemed to be ready to fight.

Larlisha decided to shift out of her wolf form and lift her hand up towards the guards and shows off the papers she had "I'm here on official business! I promise I'm not here to cause trouble" The guards looked over her papers and granted her access into the kingdom and before long, she was dashing through the roads in order to not be late for the hearing of why she was summoned. She finally made it....

Upon making it to the keep of vrador, she peered around to find others that had already gathered and waved a greeting to them before pulling out a small wooden ornate flute from her bag. "Hey there everyone! Who's up for some music?" She seemed to have forgotten it's more common to introduce yourself by name before blurting out questions, the life of a performer may have gotten to her head though.. who knows?

[Mae;]

nethdani
tiefling // cleric // location: vrador keep // tags: larishla, everyone

Nethdani gave a small smile to the Orc, and was surprised at the kind energy radiating off of him. He didn't exactly look like the friendly type, but Nethdani knew better than to judge based on appearances. Now that she was closer, she realized just how small the other man was. Must be a halfling, she thought. Nethdani had never met anyone so small, but she could tell that his height had never held him back.

As she was about to introduce herself, she noticed others beginning to join the group. People of all different kinds settled in and started to make conversation with each other. As she looked around at them all, she realized how rag-tag they looked, and couldn't help but wonder why US...we don't exactly look like heros. Nethdani had never been comfortable in crowds, and didn't consider herself a social person. She turned and began to fiddle with Carrion's tack when she saw a woman pull out a flute and excitedly ask if anyone wanted to hear a song. This enthusiasm made Nethdani let out a laugh, she shook her head and continued to check the bags she packed. Lets hope they're not all as quirky as that one she thought to herself.

[InfectedHau]

Ssethyis Shimmerscale||Naga||Conjurer||Vrador-Keep||Tagged: Everyone

A forked tongue darted from Ssethyis' lips, flickering back and forth as it tasted the air. So many interesting new scents. Apprehension was there aplenty, and doubt, and even outright fear. She couldn't smell anything from the Orc though, he was far too smelly in general for her to get anything specific. Or maybe that was the boar. Probably some combination of the two. "Ssssethyisss Ssshimerssscale," she offered as a greeting, her accent multiplying the already large amount of S's in her name. "Ssspellblade for hire. Charmed, I'm sssure." still more people were showing up, but they weren't exactly bolstering the Naga's confidence. She'd expected soldiers, a few armies even, not this assortment of characters. She might have to jack up her rates, assuming she survived.