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  1. - Top - End - #121
    Troll in the Playground
     
    daelrog's Avatar

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    Dasque's Chamber

    "So it is." It took another few moments before she finished putting her dress on. "You may come in, Shirvan." He was the first to be granted entrance. He saw her put her second shoe on, and proceed to pull a small knife out, pressing it against the palm of her hand.

    "What do I owe the pleasure, or have you come for pleasantries before we depart?" She smiled, and it made her dress shimmer all the more.

  2. - Top - End - #122
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Tectonic Robot's Avatar

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    Quote Originally Posted by THEChanger View Post
    The Weaver laughed as Llassar rushed into the kitchen. "Peace, brother, peace! Jongo found himself far too occupied with the creation of his sammiches to cause too much distruction in your kitchens. Most likely due to the fact the sammiches required very little of your supplies to make." The Weaver calmly placed the one stool out of place back where it belonged. "Come. Let us go see how our siblings fare with Jongo's wager. It should be quite amusing to see who pickes the Jongo Pepper." The Weaver leaned in confidentially to Llassar. "Part of me hopes it will be Lossethir." He whispered. "He might get up out of his chair for once."


    "Are you sure? Because Jongo is a sneaky little fellow! I wouldn't put it past him to have switched the salt and the sugar, the crazy little-" Llassar is cut off from his small rant by the voice of Tezzerin. He turns and leaps, calling out: "Ack, no time! Spirits, just... make sure it all works out!" He leaps out of the room, air whispering past him, practically diving for a chair before the banquet starts in full.

  3. - Top - End - #123
    Ettin in the Playground
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    The Banquet

    Beside almighty Baz'Auran stood his beloved cupbearer, the Maiden of the Dusk, as colorful and bright as he was purely grey and brilliant, the jewel set against silver. Her shining gown was made from the purest silk, and its colors seemed to shift whenever it caught the light, a rolling blue-green hue that seemed reminiscent of the sea below the White City. A deep brown sash crossed it, from shoulder to hip, and it would be easy to mistake it for a deliberate addition - but, no, it was simply the strap for her harp, which she could not help but carry to dinner. It still looked marvelous on her.

    The light of the stars themselves was caught within the grey jewels set into the silver crown she wore, and they flashed and blazed with fiery glory, not quite the equal of Baz'Auran's glorious aura - for what could compare to that? but still, it set her apart as the cupbearer of Baz'Auran. She wore no other jewelry, or marked her face with cosmetics, for her mere beauty was enough by Baz'Auran's side.

    She stepped forward, to the left side of Baz'Auran's throne, and brought the great goblet of Baz'Auran to her lips, taking the slightest sip of Possibility. It was heady, and sweet, and it brought to mind everything that could happen tonight, all the different ways that Baz'Auran would decide her fate that night. She shivered, ever-so-slightly, and then said, "All is well, my father." No one had ever attempted to poison Baz'Auran's cup, but some things had to be done for the sake of tradition. She passed the goblet to him, allowing him to drink from it, and then accepted the goblet when he returned it to her hands. She looked out at her siblings, all her wonderful, lovely siblings, and smiled softly at them.

    Tonight would be the most wonderful night.
    freedom in the flame

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    Quote Originally Posted by PhoeKun View Post
    Raz, you scoundrel! You planned this!
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    Great, and now I'm imagining what Raz's profile on a dating site would look like. "Must be okay with veils."
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    I don't think there is such a time to have veils that it is not the fault of Raz_Fox.
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    It's a freaking Romulan dump truck. The Romulans are no more likely to build an unarmed warp-capable ship than they are to become a hippy commune.

  4. - Top - End - #124
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    AntiMatter101's Avatar

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    The Banquet
    Frellon did not lead the procession into the Banquet, he was not that presumtuous. However, he was as close to the front as he felt he could manage. This was going to be a night to remember, and he wanted to miss nothing. He is quite eager to hear whatever it was Baz'Auran had to say.

    Quickly, he made his way to his seat, and sat down. All thoughts he might have been having over how poorly he had just played in that thrice-cursed card game were banished in anticipation of the night's events.
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  5. - Top - End - #125
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    OldWizardGuy

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    Aerin's Question
    Aerin had thought all along on his time in the White City that the best way for him to prosper was to be on everyone's good side. His sycophantic ways, was something that was a part of his nature, but he wished he could make up for that problem and learn how to overcome his nature. He looked to Jongo waiting for Father to respond, so that he would ask Baz'Auran his own question. After Baz'Auran would answer Jongo, Aerin would immediately ask him,
    "Father, I have been tormented for the past ten years by my own inner nature of flattery. I wish to rectify this mistake through inner contemplation and reflection, but after ten years, still I have no answer. Forgive me for my past attempts at flattering ways to earn my way. How may I overcome my nature?"
    Last edited by ArlEammon; 2012-02-14 at 08:44 PM.

  6. - Top - End - #126
    Firbolg in the Playground
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    The Banquet

    Kalandor walked in the procession equal second, following Jongo to the tables. While most spirits had fancy seats, same with the various gods, whose seats -thrones almost- had some small picture on them based on the orrignal aspect they were created to fill. Kalandor merely had a stool, a simple brown stool with no backing, just four legs each connected to eachother with a thin stick. The only ornamentation where two walking feet, on the underside of the seat.

    And as true as others clothes were ornate, covered in symbols, Kalandors clothes were simple. A Travellers 'uniform' of a leather jacket and leggings, with a thin shirt underneath. His cloak was a drab brown, the underside marked with the various areas on the white disk he had travveled to, and encounters he has faced, but most of these -which resemble an interconnecting web of tribal tattoes- were hidden, giving the brown edges of the cloak an apearence of having random and chaotic green lines.

    Having sat down at his place, with pewter placements, he sat waiting for Baz'Auran to speak. And he did speak, a whisper that boomed across the hall.

    And before Kalandor spoke, Jongo did, and he had to stop, in a surprisingly succesful attempt to not curl over laughing.
    'Of all the questions he asks, he asks this?' Kalandor thinks, laughter rolling around his head.
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    In other words, be nice to the murderhobos so they don't murder you?
    Quote Originally Posted by JanusJones View Post
    The professional, well-funded, well-backed, card-carrying, licensed murderhobos, yes.
    Quote Originally Posted by Chilingsworth View Post
    Congrats, you made me laugh hard enough to draw my family's attention.


    Life is Hectic.

  7. - Top - End - #127
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    Late For A a very Important Date

    The resounding chime of the Summons sent a shiver of purist horror up Rumel's spine. How long had he been at this? It was of no consequence now. With a few quick flourishes, the Prototype was more or less assembled. He could calibrate the thing on the way to The Disk if need be. With a deft precision born of a focused panic, he loaded The Prototype into his high priority package conveyance system MkV, and fired it at the Ship, with a note attached reading,
    Carry this to my cabin,
    ASK NO QUESTIONS!!
    -Your's humbly,
    Rumel
    There was a roaring FUOUT as the cargo was encased in impact softening foam and satisfying WUH-KOOM as it catipulted the objected into the diminishing horizon.
    Feverishly he set the launch timer again and with a whirring and clacking of levers and pulleys input a new destination. With a deep gasp he held his breath and loaded himself in. There was a half second pause before the world was drowned out by impact softening foam. His guts lurched, indicating his sudden gain in forward momentum.
    An orange-grey ball of industrial snot soared across fantastical vistas of The White City at near inconceivable speeds. Within a child of Baz'Auran held tightly to his knees and wondered to himself if this was perhaps not the best idea. His lungs burned this imminent suffocation.
    The sound it made when it squished into the outer wall of The Great Hall was not dissimilar from a brief comical fart. It stuck still for a moment before sliding lugubriously to the pavement.
    A hand, brandishing some manner of elaborate cutting tool, exploded out from one side. It was soon followed by the reddened face of Rumel, coughing and desperate for air.

    The Banquet

    Rumel strode into the room. The lingering smell of a doused chemical fire that currently heralded him was only faintly detectable over the otherworldly aroma of the feast set before those gathered there. His head was held high with the conceit of total certitude, in-spite of being painted with splodges of impact foam residue and machine grease. As he opened his mouth to speak, the wretch casually forgotten between his lips fell free and pinged gently on the shimmering soft tile floor.
    He paused and glanced at it with a look of hurt betrayal, before lifting his eyes to scan his family. He met his father's eye and shrank. He swept himself quietly into his assigned seat, and began gingerly helping himself to one of the more nutritious looking stews, as through his tardiness warranted no explanation.
    ...with a vengeance!

  8. - Top - End - #128
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    The Succubus's Avatar

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    The Banquet

    Before Khalen could begin his search for The Weaver, he heard the tolling of the summoning bell, calling him and his siblings to the Court of Baz'Auran. He sighed and slowly made his way to the banqueting hall. There was a spectacular feat laid out for all, with a thousand fruits, meats and meads for all. Yet Khalen barely touched the meal in front of him.

    Soon it was time for the questions. Jongo, true as ever to his nature, asked a rather ridiculous and purposeless question. Aerin in his never ending struggle to forge some meaningful identity for himself asked how he could change his ways. Eventually, Khalen spoke.

    "Father. If I have heard correctly, you plan to send us to the Great Disk. The Disk is your creation, yet you choose to burden us with ruling it." Khalen could feel his anger rising as he continued.

    "The Disk is your most important work, yet you leave it in the hands of children! There are those of us that would tear it apart through warfare, others that would see their domains cover the world. Some who would take the world apart, bit by bit to see how it was made and others who let their realms slide into anarchy and chaos through their apathy!"

    Tears of rage began to stream down Khalen's face as he glared at the serene figure at the head of the table. "Why would you do this to us, Father?!"
    Last edited by The Succubus; 2012-02-15 at 06:55 AM.

  9. - Top - End - #129
    Ettin in the Playground
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    Quote Originally Posted by The Succubus View Post
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    The Banquet

    Before Khalen could begin his search for The Weaver, he heard the tolling of the summoning bell, calling him and his siblings to the Court of Baz'Auran. He sighed and slowly made his way to the banqueting hall. There was a spectacular feat laid out for all, with a thousand fruits, meats and meads for all. Yet Khalen barely touched the meal in front of him.

    Soon it was time for the questions. Jongo, true as ever to his nature, asked a rather ridiculous and purposeless question. Aerin in his never ending struggle to forge some meaningful identity for himself asked how he could change his ways. Eventually, Khalen spoke.

    "Father. If I have heard correctly, you plan to send us to the Great Disk. The Disk is your creation, yet you choose to burden us with ruling it." Khalen could feel his anger rising as he continued.

    "The Disk is your most important work, yet you leave it in the hands of children! There are those of us that would tear it apart through warfare, others that would see their domains cover the world. Some who would take the world apart, bit by bit to see how it was made and others who let their realms slide into anarchy and chaos through their apathy!"

    Tears of rage began to stream down Khalen's face as he glared at the serene figure at the head of the table. "Why would you do this to us, Father?!"
    Fayruz, standing at Baz'Auran's hand as the loyal cupbearer, was given a unique perspective on the banquet. To her was given the privilege of seeing her siblings from the great dais of Baz'Auran, of seeing them as they began to eat and ask their beloved father their questions. Jongo, as ever, made her smile with his-her concerns about the apples of the Disk. Of all the concerns of the evening, of course Jongo would wonder about whether he-she would get the chance to eat another apple. She met Jongo's eyes for a moment, and nodded ever-so-slightly in approval.

    Aerin's question, right on the heels of Jongo's, made her want to laugh. She merely held a deep breath for a moment and then released it, but the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. Aerin, as always, didn't understand himself. How could her sweet brother not understand that his urge to please his father was part of who he was? He might think himself a flatterer, but in truth, he merely desired to have his father's approval, especially now - wasn't his request for advice proof enough that he still wanted Baz'Auran's blessing?

    But then, oh, Khalen. Fayruz's mouth opened ever-so-slightly in shock, her eyes widening, as she listened to her brother's words shift from stoic calmness to a furious rage. She stepped forward, the goblet of Possibility still held in her hands, and said, "Oh, Khalen - if I may, Father," she added, turning her head to him for a moment before turning her attention to Khalen-Het again. "Khalen, we are a family, and we have been given blessings beyond any other inhabitants of the White City, and certainly beyond the poor children of the Disk. Can't you see why our Father sends us? This is our chance, as a family, to bless the children of the Disk just as Father has blessed us.

    "Why do you think your brothers and sisters will rip apart the world through war, or through curiosity or negligence? We are all still brothers and sisters, and we all have our part to play, just as every part of your body works together to your good, big brother. This is the greatest opportunity that Father has ever given us, the opportunity for all of us to use our gifts in one accord for the benefit of others."


    As Fayruz spoke, her face lit up, and she grew ever more excitable, speaking her words with as much conviction as Khalen-Het accused Baz'Auran, until she finished. Then, it struck her how presumptuous she was, and the fire drained from her face and she stepped back, taking her place besides Baz'Auran's throne again. Still, she could not help but look at her glorious father, and ask softly, "The opportunity for all of us?"
    freedom in the flame

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    Quote Originally Posted by PhoeKun View Post
    Raz, you scoundrel! You planned this!
    Quote Originally Posted by BladeofObliviom View Post
    Great, and now I'm imagining what Raz's profile on a dating site would look like. "Must be okay with veils."
    Quote Originally Posted by Kasanip View Post
    I don't think there is such a time to have veils that it is not the fault of Raz_Fox.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dervag View Post
    It's a freaking Romulan dump truck. The Romulans are no more likely to build an unarmed warp-capable ship than they are to become a hippy commune.

  10. - Top - End - #130
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    Llassar watched his siblings begin to arrive, and relaxed in his chair. He began to grin as Jongo and Khalen posed their questions; Surely Baz'Auran wouldn't notice or care if Llassar took this opportunity to take a little rest? And even if did, well, he'd be busy setting his children straight!

    He pulled his straw hat over his eyes, put his feet on the table, and within moments a gentle snore was sneaking out from in between his lips.

  11. - Top - End - #131
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    Quote Originally Posted by Raz_Fox View Post
    Fayruz, standing at Baz'Auran's hand as the loyal cupbearer, was given a unique perspective on the banquet. To her was given the privilege of seeing her siblings from the great dais of Baz'Auran, of seeing them as they began to eat and ask their beloved father their questions. Jongo, as ever, made her smile with his-her concerns about the apples of the Disk. Of all the concerns of the evening, of course Jongo would wonder about whether he-she would get the chance to eat another apple. She met Jongo's eyes for a moment, and nodded ever-so-slightly in approval.

    Aerin's question, right on the heels of Jongo's, made her want to laugh. She merely held a deep breath for a moment and then released it, but the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. Aerin, as always, didn't understand himself. How could her sweet brother not understand that his urge to please his father was part of who he was? He might think himself a flatterer, but in truth, he merely desired to have his father's approval, especially now - wasn't his request for advice proof enough that he still wanted Baz'Auran's blessing?

    But then, oh, Khalen. Fayruz's mouth opened ever-so-slightly in shock, her eyes widening, as she listened to her brother's words shift from stoic calmness to a furious rage. She stepped forward, the goblet of Possibility still held in her hands, and said, "Oh, Khalen - if I may, Father," she added, turning her head to him for a moment before turning her attention to Khalen-Het again. "Khalen, we are a family, and we have been given blessings beyond any other inhabitants of the White City, and certainly beyond the poor children of the Disk. Can't you see why our Father sends us? This is our chance, as a family, to bless the children of the Disk just as Father has blessed us.

    "Why do you think your brothers and sisters will rip apart the world through war, or through curiosity or negligence? We are all still brothers and sisters, and we all have our part to play, just as every part of your body works together to your good, big brother. This is the greatest opportunity that Father has ever given us, the opportunity for all of us to use our gifts in one accord for the benefit of others."


    As Fayruz spoke, her face lit up, and she grew ever more excitable, speaking her words with as much conviction as Khalen-Het accused Baz'Auran, until she finished. Then, it struck her how presumptuous she was, and the fire drained from her face and she stepped back, taking her place besides Baz'Auran's throne again. Still, she could not help but look at her glorious father, and ask softly, "The opportunity for all of us?"


    Rumel choked momentarily on his stew at what he took to be a direct reference to his own person among Khalen's... misgivings. 'Take the world apart, bit by bit', indeed! As though putting it back together wasn't part a priority. No matter, this was no time to get into yet another shouting match with the narrow minded berk. Not with Father around anyway.

    And then sweet little Fayruz spoke up, all innocence and polite assumptions. Rumel couldn't stop himself laughing aloud.
    "Heeeh! Heh-heh-heeh! You give him to much credit," said Rumel derisively as he reached for a dinner roll, "what Khalen means to say is, 'Why oh Father, why do you send all these unworthies when you could send just me?! Oh and maybe some muscle who'll do as I say...'".
    Last edited by DoomHat; 2012-02-15 at 11:44 PM.
    ...with a vengeance!

  12. - Top - End - #132
    Ogre in the Playground
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    "Now now Rumel, let's not get nasty. This is supposed to be a happy occasion. Khalen may be a mite overzealous at times, but his heart is in the right place." The Weaver sat near the middle of the table, trying to sperate himself from those who might upset his indigestion. Rumel was a bit close for that goal though. "Though my brother does bring up an interesting question. Why us, Father? We are, for the most part, untrained in the ways of ruling. I can't speak for my siblings, but I have little interest in leading the mortals of the Disk. Perhaps guide them subtly, but not as a, well, a God. Which is what you propose, if I understand correctly. Would not some of the other spirits be more suited to the task? Or even you yourself?"
    ATTENTION ANYONE WHO I'M PLAYING WITH:
    No news is good news.

  13. - Top - End - #133
    Firbolg in the Playground
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    Kalandor shakes his head.
    "Baz'Auran already has the white city as his domain. And besides, I think mortals would be more put off with the thought of an all knowing and powerful god, and would begin to curse him whenever something went wrong in their lives...."

    Spoiler
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    Will remove if Baz'Auran has reffuted being All knowing, will change to he has enough upon his plate 'looking after the stars'.


    Turning his face his brother, The Weaver, with a mischivous smile and glint in his eye ."I myself look forwards to the challenge, and I do not intend to stand at the head of the nation I will forge, I plan to lead them from the back myself, with guidence. I'll save the personal aproach for if they start to go off the rails."
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    Quote Originally Posted by Sun Hunter's Recruitment
    Quote Originally Posted by Sliver View Post
    Saying no to a Sun's Hunter is as close as it gets to an invitation to have your place destroyed by them)\
    Quote Originally Posted by Vedhin View Post
    In other words, be nice to the murderhobos so they don't murder you?
    Quote Originally Posted by JanusJones View Post
    The professional, well-funded, well-backed, card-carrying, licensed murderhobos, yes.
    Quote Originally Posted by Chilingsworth View Post
    Congrats, you made me laugh hard enough to draw my family's attention.


    Life is Hectic.

  14. - Top - End - #134
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    The Banquet

    "Oh, it's going to be one of those dinners," murmured Lossethir between picking grapes Opportunity Spheres.

    "Off of rails?" he wondered aloud, eyebrows narrowing, clearly confused by the implication that government would be metaphorically balanced atop a support bar.

    Masking his mouth with his knuckles, he whispered an aside to Avyra, "I'm not worried. I hear mortal girls are easy."

  15. - Top - End - #135
    Barbarian in the Playground
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    The Banquet

    Avyra cannot help the low, quiet laugh that pulls itself from her, at Loss's quiet comment; trust her brother to think of the women to be had on the Disk! Her own plate laden with little things--like the petite meat pastries, and the delicate fruit tarts--she nonetheless reaches over to snatch an orb off of her brother's plate.

    "What do you suppose he means, 'off the rails'? Does he think the mortals so hopeless that they will fall off their own balconies? ...Do they even have balconies...? Or maybe he's talking about the bird..." It was a puzzling expression, to be sure, and the young demi-goddess chews contemplatively as she glances around the table. She shakes her head a little, at the quarreling...

    "Honestly! On a day like today, one would think one's siblings would have better things to do than fight. Can't everyone just be happy about the experiences we'll get to have...?" And, in a lower voice, to her brothers--Faden was sitting on the other side of her--

    "You know...sometimes I feel that Khalen prides himself on causing trouble..."

  16. - Top - End - #136
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    Still in a hushed aside, Lossethir's face twisted with a sudden delighted notion. "Perhaps there are tribes that ride giant rails," he laughed, meaning the water bird, "That would make sense then, you don't want to fall off your bird. Sounds fun though! We're all riding birds on The Disk!"

    Resolute in his plan, he gave a firm nod to Faden and Avyra.

  17. - Top - End - #137
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    The Training Grounds

    Nieve parried the oncoming thrust with a flourish, smooth and precise as the Spirits of War had taught her... and met nothing as Shirvan abruptly shifted to a low attack. Before she could reverse her mistake he was past her guard, bringing the point of his sword to rest gently at his side. Even if he had not already struck what could have been a finishing blow, he was standing too close for her to easily fend him off. Reflex told her to elbow him away before he could press his advantage, but she stilled it, heart beating slightly faster at the proximity.

    "You can't always win, dear brother." She smiled up at him. "The trick is to pick a game that you enjoy losing."

    Oh yes, she promised herself as she moved back to take up the ready position again, she'd let Shirvan catch her. Soon. Perhaps even tonight, after the feast; they would be leaving shortly afterwards, and who could say how long the journey to the Disk would last or what would become of them there? So little time left. But she meant to enjoy every second of the game while it lasted.

    The Banquet

    Nieve entered the great Hall in a twirl of skirts, face lit up with anticipation. Her dress was unadorned silver, almost plain in its simplicity but elegant in its own way (or so she felt). The fabric was thin enough to fall flatteringly on her form, but loose enough to let her move freely, sleeves and hems trailing prettily in the air behind her when she did. She'd clearly been taking advantage of the gown's mobility: her hair was disheveled, hanging all askew over her face and shoulders as if she had run in answer to the summons.

    Which, of course, she had.

    She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and sat at the table almost demurely, determined to respect the occasion. It was a great moment; it deserved dignity! Her attempt was marred only a little by a laugh at Jongo's question and then an embarrassed wince (quickly covered up) as Aerin spoke. Her brother was caught in a paradox: he knew he had the reputation of a sycophant and sought to better it, but so long as his sole motive was to gain the approval of those around him, he could not. The surest way to get what he wanted would be to stop wanting it. Nieve felt for him—she too had always wanted people to like and pay attention to her—but she was heartily glad that she had been graced with enough careless self-confidence to spare her from that dilemma.

    What came next was not so easily shrugged off. Nieve tossed her head as Khalen-Het ranted, annoyed that he was marring their last night in the City. No, more than annoyed. Why did he mistrust them so? What had she ever done to deserve that? Nothing, that was what. She held her tongue while Fayruz spoke conciliatory words, but her temper only simmered.

    "Children, are we?" she said nastily as the others fell to debating among themselves, pitching her voice to carry above the chatter. "I see only one person crying and shouting here."

    Just in case her meaning was not perfectly obvious, she looked straight at Khalen-Het.
    Last edited by The_Snark; 2012-02-16 at 05:50 AM.
    Avatar by GryffonDurime. Thanks!

  18. - Top - End - #138
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    Banquet

    Having remained quiet so far, Faden finally speaks, albeit only loud enough for those nearest him to hear. "Perhaps if Khalen calls Father stupid and lazy again, he'll be banished to the great disk before the rest of us depart. I have the oddest sensation that Baz'Auran has done something like that before..."
    Last edited by Jade_Tarem; 2012-02-16 at 12:11 AM.
    Amazing Zealot avatar by Elder Tsofu.

  19. - Top - End - #139
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    The Banquet

    Jongo couldn't tell if what was going on was amazing or horrible. Usually, watching his siblings quarrel and bicker was funny. Jongo even joined in, and had a lot of fun sparring verbally with the others.

    But to do so... now?

    Jongo looked over at Tezzerin, sitting on her left. As eldest, Jongo was one of the closest to sit near Baz'Auran Himself. Only the First Spirit of Knowledge was between him and Father.

    Considering the amount of questions Jongo had had over the years, this was likely a good thing, and surely thought through by both the First Spirit and Baz'Auran.

    So it was no surprise that Jongo had another question. Asking it with a soft voice, it was directed at no one in particular, but still loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

    "Does anyone here know what the Third Question was?" Jongo mused, and explained. "Sure, it was the question asked Third after Father began creation, but I wonder if any of my siblings know what it was. If they know the words spoken...?"
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    BladeofObliviom said:
    I've only seen a character at anything resembling this level of absurdity thrive exactly once, and he/she/what-the-jongo had the advantage of being written by Gengy, who I look up to as a writer.

    "What-the-Jongo?"
    Before you insult someone, walk a mile in their shoes.
    That way, you'll be a mile away, and have their shoes!

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  20. - Top - End - #140
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    The Banquet

    "If Father was concerned with our quarrels, he would not merely observe it from his throne." Dasque's voice carried across the room. She stood in the doorway, her dress shimmering silver-white. She wore a matching pair of gloaves taht reached past her elbows. It was noticeable that her left palm had been cut, the blood seeping through the fabric, forming a thin, red line across her hand.

    "Either Baz'Auran feels we are prepared, or being unprepared for the Disk below is acceptable. There's naught to do but do as he bids, and if so, I intend to enjoy this meal. Did you help make it Llassar?"

    Her shoes raised her up two inches, and her footsteps echoed as she drew near. When she walked near Jongo, she replied to his question. "It's an interesting question Jongo, but first you have to make sure you know what the first two were, so that you don't mistake the third question for the fourth or fifth."

  21. - Top - End - #141
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    Trust Dasque to have an answer!

    "True, Sister. Very true." Jongo ate another bite of the apple in her hand.

    "Oh Father, this is delicious! Is this made from pure crisp Happiness? Or is it Joy? Or Fun? No, no, Fun is something you have, not something that makes an Apple. So I bet it's Happiness! Is it?"

    Apparently, with one person answering, Jongo's other question was forgotten. Whatever he had been trying to say, whatever point she was trying to make, was lost upon all others who did not know the Third Question.

    After all, there was an Apple in Jongo's hands.

    And it was delicious.
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    BladeofObliviom said:
    I've only seen a character at anything resembling this level of absurdity thrive exactly once, and he/she/what-the-jongo had the advantage of being written by Gengy, who I look up to as a writer.

    "What-the-Jongo?"
    Before you insult someone, walk a mile in their shoes.
    That way, you'll be a mile away, and have their shoes!

    Got me a Real Job™ (yay!). Still busy (boo!).
    ~avatar by myself

  22. - Top - End - #142
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    Default Re: Heroes of the Fall

    Aramar takes a seat near Frellon and Kalandor. Hearing Kalandor's comment, Aramar smiles.

    "I can imagine your nation now -- a nomadic city that takes advice from passing old men in the hopes that their god is leading them and hasn't merely taken off on yet another spur-of-the-moment journey to some unknown land." he says with (almost) a straight face. After a moment, he laughs. Peace! I but jest. In truth, I envy the mortals who follow you -- they will be among the freest and happiest of mortal, I have no doubt."
    My Homebrew:
    WIP
    The Fortunar Base Class: A Fortuneteller wielding a minor Deck of Many Things. Mid T3.

    Completed Classes
    The Grandmaster : A master of animated stattuettes and tactical magic. High tier 3.
    The Hidden Word: An infiltrator with a wide range of abilities that works best in small teams. Tier 2-3
    Web-Spinner: A martial class based around using webs. Mid T3.
    The True Warrior: A swift mundane martial combat class that can dodge and slice their way to victory. Low Tier 3.

  23. - Top - End - #143
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    SamuraiGuy

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    Default Re: Heroes of the Fall

    The Banquet

    The shining mauve vest wrapped itself like a second skin around his high necked golden shirt, itself tucked into plaid green trousers. Brandis had every right to look the fool, and yet in the presence of his father he sat rigidly at attention. As the siblings argued around him, he ate only sparingly of the grand feast, sipped from his cup. The normally voracious appetite subdued. The smile wan or perhaps a bit nervous.

    As the ancient eyes of Baz'Auran surveyed his children, Brandis waited for them to meet his own. He stood and raised his glass to the father almighty.

    "Father, I don't have the wisdom within me to know what to ask about our future. But, if you'll oblige me, I hope to toast you with my thanks. Your gifts of creation and responsibility are sure to be wondrous and terrifying all at once. And somehow I think the myriad of diversity amongst us will thread a tapestry of life grander than even The Weaver might dream of. May our works ever honor you."

    And with that, Brandis emptied his drink and sat back down.

  24. - Top - End - #144
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    Patience

    As the squabble brought about by Khalen-Het's question spread to more and more of the children, Baz'Auran's gaze never left his most ordered son. Yet it seemed he missed not a word, and as Aramar's jibe threatened to rob the banquet of the last trace of decorum he raised his hand.

    "Enough."

    And like that, the children found themselves incapable of speech, at least for the moment. Baz'Auran's gaze swept over them, dissecting the reasons for the chaos at his table, but finally he answered.

    "You presume a great deal, Khalen-Het. Had I intended the Great Disk to be nothing more than a monument to my greatness I would never have peopled it with frail humanity or the Beasts of Chaos. I fear, in your desire to impose order on all things you have missed the essential mutability of the Disk - it is no polished gem, but a rough stone awaiting refinement. It is the great test, for you and all your siblings, and those who prove worthy of my gift of Divine Spark shall rule. Those who do not will return here, to live out their immortal lives as children evermore. But if all that still fails to console you, take comfort in the fact that any damage you or your siblings inflict on the Disk could be undone with a thought, should I deem it necessary. But you should not do your siblings the disservice of assuming I will."

    His children still unable to find their tongues, Baz'Auran turned his head to Aerin.

    "Aerin, though you may have long struggled against your sycophancy, it is but the symptom of your true struggle. Discover the cause of your need to prostrate yourself, and you shall discover the means to arrest such behavior."

    Now, Baz'Auran turned his attention towards Jongo, and it seemed almost as though a smile might escape his face.

    "Jongo, my Eldest, you are not yet capable of comprehending the First Questions. But do not let this trouble you, for only time and struggle can bring wisdom, and at the end of your road I am certain you will have discovered them for yourself. As to apples - they will be but faded things compared to their purest essence that you now hold, but they shall grow nevertheless."

    Baz'Auran finally lowered his palm, taking his cup from Fayruz's waiting hands and sipping lightly at his draught, returning Brandis' toast. As quickly as it had come, the enforced silence vanished, as the children of Baz'Auran felt the use of their tongues return to them.
    Last edited by TheDarkDM; 2012-02-16 at 03:50 AM.

    I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
    The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
    I was old in those epochs uncounted
    When I, and I only, was vile;

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    Quote Originally Posted by apocalypsePast2 View Post
    ...one could possibly refer to you guys' elaborate dance of allies-to-enemies-to-suicide-of-the-universe as some sort of weird art form.

    If one were on drugs.
    Quote Originally Posted by VonDoom View Post
    Behold, the mighty slayer of strangely coloured mutant equines! The thwarter of forum woes! The! Dark! DM!

  25. - Top - End - #145
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    Understanding

    Khalen listened as his Father spoke. He still had deep misgivings about their journey to the The Great Disk and he did not share Fayruz's somewhat optimistic views on his siblings. Yet, once Father had finished speaking, he felt calmer, more collected. He gave a deep nod in Baz'Auran's direction and settled back into his chair.

    "...it is no polished gem, but a rough stone awaiting refinement..." Khalen echoes Father's words in his own head. A gem had many facets and could shine with a thousand colours. Yet only if the cuts were flawless and done with precision. For that you needed a steady hand....

    ...and an ordered mind.

  26. - Top - End - #146
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    "Yay! Apples!" Jongo finished off the apple in his hands and reached for another. By all outward appearances, the young human child form of the Eldest scion seems to have barely heard Baz'Auran.

    Leaning in to take a bite of the fresh Apple, Jongo paused, and looked up at the Ceiling. Then at Baz'Auran.

    "Father, does our ship have a Name yet?"
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    BladeofObliviom said:
    I've only seen a character at anything resembling this level of absurdity thrive exactly once, and he/she/what-the-jongo had the advantage of being written by Gengy, who I look up to as a writer.

    "What-the-Jongo?"
    Before you insult someone, walk a mile in their shoes.
    That way, you'll be a mile away, and have their shoes!

    Got me a Real Job™ (yay!). Still busy (boo!).
    ~avatar by myself

  27. - Top - End - #147
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    SamuraiGuy

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    Dasque's Chamber

    Shirvan allowed a smile to surface as he entered her rooms, glancing over what had been her sister's secret sanctum for most of their life. As he glanced over Dasque's various maps and notes, his smile didn't lessen or waver, but took a curious note. "You like your secrets, Dasque," he noted with mirth. "Be careful they don't start mistaking you for a certain someone."

    As her twin said this, a rose of flame briefly flickered to life in his palm, vanishing all too quickly once again. It served to illuminate of whom he was speaking, however.

    "Can't a brother just come to see his twin sister?", he chuckled. "I came to see if you were alright. For all that happened, this is the first time we truly leave this place. And likely the final."

    He paused, the golden glow in his eyes flickering for a moment as he stepped closer to Dasque. "I look forward to it, myself. It's not in my nature to dwell too much on the past, as some of us do. I am tense, yes, but out of anticipation." He put a warm hand on Dasque's shoulder. "I know you are strong, as strong as I, or any of our siblings. But if you feel alone down there, know that I am there for you if you need it. We are made from the same cloth. "

    After a moment he moved away once more, only to pause for a pointed question. Apparently he had noticed it, after all, but had wanted to speak his piece first: "Sister. What are you planning to do with that knife?"

    The Training Grounds

    "If you work to improve yourself, the only loss is when you don't learn something," Shirvan noted, his expression oddly serious as he spoke. Yet the seriousness vanished as quickly as it came and already he was moving even closer, pulling his sword aside as he twisted around, continuing to speak as his breath burned hot against the nape of Nieve's neck. "The parry was sound, but you need to look beyond the obvious when someone makes their first move. Even Carolinus might think to try a feint if the straight shot does little but fail him."

    His voice was low, almost a whisper as he spoke into her ear. "Someone more cunning, like Roselia, might even lull you into false security first, pretending to certain patterns, only to break them when least expected. But you already knew that, didn't you?" He grinned, his presence behind her suddenly gone as he jumped a few steps backwards. "I half suspect you're trying to lure me in!"

    The Banquet

    Shirvan had been unusually quiet after Baz'Auran had appeared and Khalen-Het had pronounced his concerns. When Avyra spoke, someone quietly added: "It's hubris, not pride. There is a difference." Could it have been the silver-haired god? He usually didn't speak that softly when he had something to say.
    Last edited by VonDoom; 2012-02-16 at 06:29 AM.


  28. - Top - End - #148
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    Dasque's Chamber

    The knife bit into her left palm, slightly, but just enough to draw a little blood. "Just a scartch. It's a reminder that when I bleed, I do so because of my own actions, not because Father willed it. It's a reminder that I control myself, and what I do on the Disk is not for him, but for myself, and for all of us." She put the knife to the side.

    She smiled as an afterthought of Shirvan's comparison. "Thank you Shirvan. Your words mean a lot to me. I believe I'll be all right, but I'll take you on your offer, for good or ill." She stood up, and walked over to him, adjusting his outfit slightly around the neck, where it had become ruffled. "There's a question I wanted to ask you before we stepped onto the ship headed for the Disk, I planned to ask it at the banquet. Shirvan, will you shine bright than even Baz'Auran? Will you surpase our Father in greatness?" He knew her well enough to know that she was not asking rhetorically.

  29. - Top - End - #149
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    Quote Originally Posted by daelrog View Post
    The Banquet

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    "If Father was concerned with our quarrels, he would not merely observe it from his throne." Dasque's voice carried across the room. She stood in the doorway, her dress shimmering silver-white. She wore a matching pair of gloaves taht reached past her elbows. It was noticeable that her left palm had been cut, the blood seeping through the fabric, forming a thin, red line across her hand.

    "Either Baz'Auran feels we are prepared, or being unprepared for the Disk below is acceptable. There's naught to do but do as he bids, and if so, I intend to enjoy this meal. Did you help make it Llassar?"

    Her shoes raised her up two inches, and her footsteps echoed as she drew near. When she walked near Jongo, she replied to his question. "It's an interesting question Jongo, but first you have to make sure you know what the first two were, so that you don't mistake the third question for the fourth or fifth."
    Llassar, half asleep, did not respond well to hearing his name said suddenly. He pushed a little too hard with his feet, and suddenly he was toppling backward onto the ground off his chair, letting out a shrill scream as he did so.

    "Ah! I wasn't sleeping! Is it time to eat?"
    Last edited by Tectonic Robot; 2012-02-16 at 07:50 AM.

  30. - Top - End - #150
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    Banquet

    Faden finally leans forward and joins the ongoing conversation properly. "Father, I did hear one good point raised a moment ago - are we to know which, if any, spirits will be coming with us?" Tezzerin had once implied that she had been to the Disk before, and the spirits of haste could theoretically make it as far as the mortal world, but how long any of them could stay away from the White City was largely unknown. He doubted that any of the First Spirits would be coming - it would defeat the entire purpose of a test - but that wasn't to say that they'd be leaving alone.
    Amazing Zealot avatar by Elder Tsofu.

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