Future Legends

[Theeon]

Well here it is we are finally up and running so now I'm going to defer to my partner in crime tiki to explain where ya'll are

[tikitiki1]

Shikzaal. The monolithic city sprawls haphazardly across the foothills of the Thoknen mountain range, clearly more tossed together than actually built, with hardly a thought to planning or infrastructure. Clay and straw huts jostle for position with gaudy marble and granite mansions. Few buildings rise more than two or three stories high, which only throws into sharper relief the enormous white tower jutting abruptly from the middle of the crazy jumble.

It was an other-worldly structure, looking more like it had simply grown from the land instead of having been crafted by any mortal hands. At the very top of the unearthly smooth tower, thousands of feet above, was a corona of bright blue light that could be seen for miles in any direction. No on knew how the tower came to be originally; it had been there for as long as anyone could remember. It was now being used as the headquarters of the Oracle. It was here that hundreds of travelers found themselves, inexplicably drawn to its heavenly gates, seeking answers about their destinies, hoping to hear of fabulous wealth and fame.

[Vazzaroth]

Balthazaar approached the white tower, squinting, and mumbling to himself, something he did regularly.

"Damnable light. I knew I shoulda' under the cover of nightfall. I gotta lay low for now though, and moving at night is exactly what people expect..."

Balthazaar made his way through the chaotic city with a scowl on his face. He wore dark colored leather, with dull iron studs strewn about it. Underneath the armor, he wore his "wizard's robes" as the were commenly called, solid black, with only 2 thick strips of white on the biceps otherwise. On top of all this, his outer layer was a wool traveler's cloak he wore almost religiously, black as well, and currently with the hood on to hide from the day.

He kept to the shadows as he made his way to the tower, not trying to be sneaky, just to avoid the light. He arrived at the gates, and only stoped for a moment to look upon the grand entrance. Bah.Balthazaar went inside.

Now he was waiting among many other adventurers, standing to the side, trying to avoid touching anyone, as he waited for his chance to see the Oracle.

[TheThan]

Hiroshi Hatori

Hiroshi wandered through the streets, careful to not get lost again. Once in sight of base of the tower and the entrance he fights the urge to look up in awe at the imposing tower. It wouldn’t look right for a noble to be caught starring. So instead he takes a moment to dust off his long flowing green and gold, silken kimono. He adjusts the leather armor hidden beneath his kimono for comfort and double checks the Wakazashi tucked neatly into his sash.
Standing straight and walking with purpose he marches up to the tower and inside. Amused that no guards were visible he finds his place in line and waits impatiently; wondering why this Oracle doesn’t see the rich and important first. Like so many other soothsayers and wise men do.

[tikitiki1]

The Oracle's Antechamber

This large room is festooned with elaborate tapestries and grandiose sculptures and fountains. Small, high windows shoot beams of golden sunlight to the floor, highlighting the swirling dust motes within them. Large potted plants from every corner of the world are placed strategically about the room, their plethora of exotic scents wafting and fusing, filling every corner of the room with its heady odor. Chairs, benches and stools litter the floor, most occupied by travel-weary men in worn boots and tattered clothes, but a few were claimed by haughty looking courtiers with their myriads of simpering, over-dressed servants, brought only as a display of wealth and power. There were no women to be seen. The silence of the hall was unbroken save only by a few large bumblebees who had come through the window to investigate the foreign foliage. Imposing looking guards stood at attention at regular intervals along the wall, or paced the floor of the hall, occasionally pausing the murmur some inaudible comment to one of the waiters.

((Apologies for not having this up sooner; family troubles. Adjust your posts if need be, please))

[Chu]

Bastiel shielded his eyes against the glaring sunlight as he gazed up at the imposing tower. Having spent his entire life in this city, he had heard of this structure, but never gotten to see the insides of it. Left hand resting casually on the hilt of his longsword, he adjusted his garments - nothing very outstanding, typical of a usual adventurer, as if making a point to not stick out like a sore thumb.

Upon entering the tower, he scanned the gathering numbers in the waiting area, reserving himself to standing at ease, hands cupped together at the small of his back as he surveys the gathering crowds.

[Theeon]

In case of any confusion you are all inside the ante-camber

[Fenria]

Patrick's trip through Shikzaal was fast becoming a blurred memory in his mind. He had been surprised, at first, by the many number of people in the same place at the same time. Next, he was surprised by the fact that the buildings were not uniform, or planned at all...it struck him as incredibly inefficient. Finally, he was more awestruck than surprised by the daunting white tower which seemed to call to him in the back of his mind.

Now, though, he had so many other things on his mind. While standing against a wall inside the incredible tower, his mind rolled through a checklist of his possessions, to check for theft. His traveling clothes were snug underneath the scale mail he wore proudly upon his person, his shield was strapped his backpack, which was sitting at his feet, and his hammer was hanging from his belt, where he kept it at all times, in case he should have need of it.

Checklist done, he made a quick scan of the room, looking upon those who would approach the oracle as he himself sought to do. Most fit the description of the goodly adventurer working for a greater good. But his smile at that quickly faded when he noticed an abundance of rogues, assassins, and he even saw what he supposed to be a Necromancer wallowing in the shadows. His parents had told him stories of men like him.

"I shall have to keep my eye on these ones...they do not bode well for the rest of us..." he mumbled to himself.

[deadpony]

Ziad "Scrud" Sneekyfoot

Ziad explored the room around him with his eyes taking careful note of the many different kinds of people around him. His hood pulled up so you could only sence the slightest glimmer of green, he tried to hide his face from everyone. This was an easy thing to accomplish due to his short stature :3'1"

[Chu]

Seeing as how he had now idea how long it would take for this "oracle" to see the next person, and not having a clue how far down the queue he was, Bastiel figured it wouldn't hurt to stir up some casual conversation with his fellow waitees... see if he was in the right place to get his answer.

Scanning the room once again, he looked for anyone who might have had similar interests to his own (apparent) ones - fighting. He approaches a well-armed, well-composed patron (Patrick), nodding at him with a smile. "Good morrow, Sir! ^_^ What brings you here?"

[TheThan]

Hiroshi Hatori
Slightly annoyed at the wait, Hiroshi decides to stay away from the other nobles, it’s been too long since he fit in with such people. After becoming a simple holy man he would probably feel out of place with regular nobles.
So Hiroshi decides to scan the crowd, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He stops briefly on the dark one hiding in the shadows, deciding that he got “bad vibes” off of him, his eyes slide over to two warrior types in conversation, nothing really interesting there. He also notices a rather small person, perhaps a halfing or a gnome, maybe, being draped in heavy cloak, its kind of hard to tell.

Speaking to nothing and everything at once, Hiroshi says,

I wonder how long this will take, I can be patient but I’d rather not have to sleep in line here

[Fenria]

"Good morrow, Sir! ^_^ What brings you here?"

Patrick Flannigan

(In a very heavy Scottish accent) "Eh, I'm here for th' same reason as everybody else...come to see if me destiny amounts to naught. I've always had a thought that there might be somethin' more behin' what I do..."

He trailed off, scanning the room again, and deciding that he could relax and have a conversation with the man (Bastiel).

[Chu]

Bastiel can't help but raise an eyebrow at the thick accent, but finds it more amusing than anything. [OOC: *casts Comprehend Languages!* XD]

"Ah, yes, well, I suppose that was kind of a silly question... Well, what IS it that you do?"

[lvl27FreakShow]

Knoton makes his way into the room, surveying everyone, cursing under his breathe, wishing this place had not to be so crowded. He walks into a dark lonely corner, waiting, wanting to talk to the oracle, wanting to know what he must do next

[Visturon]

Caeradwyn Filiadir
A warrior of surprising height for his apparent elven heritage, Caeradwyn wears leather pants, a leather vest, and an overly shiny chainshirt and stands with an arrogant but friendly stance that gives a hint he knows how to use the large sword, short spears, and shield on his back. His whole left side is hidden by the massive leather trenchcoat draped over his left arm, as he assesses the crowd filling the anti-chamber he smiles to anyone whose eye he meets.
He hears a nobleman in outlandish silk robes(Hatori) make a comment near him and responds as if spoken to.
“Ah doon’t think it be a line boot rather a randoom selection process to see who geets to see the Ooracle. Ah’d expect half these people be leavin’ aroond night fall foor the taverns”

[Kirstin]

Basura
A short, really short, pretty woman stands in the hall looking around almost as if she had lost someone. Pushing a path though the crowd but offering ‘out excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s Basura tries to see past all the people until she finally sees someone of obvious magical training despite being in all black(Balthazaar) and approaches him with a wave and an old wizard greeting from the academy she was trained in.
[draconic]:May your magic bring wisdom.

[Theeon]

((im not sure if you were kidding but comprehend languages is not need to understand him, and i like what kristin and visturon have started so in the future if you speak in a language other than common state it followed by a colon followed by your speech in white text. then only if your character understands it should you highlight it. refer to ooc for other forum rules))

[Vazzaroth]

Balthazaar Elogian

Balthazaar stood in the shadows still, avoiding the light, and passivly watching everyone around him out from under his cloak. His slightly longer than shoulder length dark hair started to fall out, and he pushed it back into the hood. He watched the short woman push her way through the crowd, noticeing she seemed to be coming to him.

[draconic:] "And may yours bring death... He responds quickly. I hate these crowds of sun-lovers... He added, his features still shrowded by shadow.

[deadpony]

Ziad "Scrud" Sneekyfoot

Sensing no apparent threat, the halfling removed the hood of his dark green cloak. Shiny locks of dark brown hair fell around his face letting his captivating green eyes glint through. It was easier for him to see his surroundings now, especially because he was standing on his toes. He begins to feel a rush of exitement about all the people he sees and the opportunity to meet the famed oracle. He lets out a quiet squeek of exitement while looking for anyone that looks friendly enough to engage in conversation.

[Fenria]

"Ah, yes, well, I suppose that was kind of a silly question... Well, what IS it that you do?"

Patrick 14/14 19

Chuckling, Patrick replied, "I fight...an' I fight well. That is why I come to th' o'rcle todeey, I have heard that I am far too skilled t' be a simple faarm boy."
He chuckled again as he reached down to his shield. He came up with the shield in hand and a rag in the other. Slowly, carefully, he began to clean it. Why not do something productive while talking? He thought.

[tikitiki1]

From the small oak door at the far end of the antechamber, a white-robed man suddenly appeared, his features young and smooth, but grey-headed and with deep, ponderous eyes that clearly carried the burden of vast knowledge. The man scanned the room quickly, frowned, and whispered something to a tall guard near him. The guard turned and surveyed the lethargic crowd. He pointed to a lean man sitting in one of the wooden chairs against the wall. The white-robed man quickly shook his head and whispered something else. the guard took another measured look around and pointed again, this time at a well dressed noble, lounging languidly across a bench near Hiroshi, being fussed over by a number of servants clad in green and gold livery. The robed man slowly took in every inch of the haughty noble, and finally nodded. He picked his way carefully over to where the other man sat and spoke, his deep voice ringing clearly throughout the silent hall.

"Are you Darien?" He asked

Startled, the man could only nod. The robed man simply crooked a finger at him, then turned and walked away, leaving a very confused Darien struggling quickly to his feet and hurrying after him. A disgruntled buzz rumbled up from several of the nobles and others who had been waiting for a long time, angry murmurs of "only waited for a day. I've been here two weeks now" and similar dissatisfactions laced the subsequent conversations.

[Vazzaroth]

Balthazaar

Balthazaar watched the white robed man's selection, and slightly cringed when he handpicked the one out of the crowd. Why did he want him? I'm a much better choice...

"It seems that man knew that Darien by name... must be the oracle at work..." He says to the mage-woman who seems to want to start a conversation with him.

[Chu]

Bastiel raises an eyebrow and blinks at the angry mutterings of the crowds before turning back to Patrick. "Weeks...? Surely we won't be waiting THAT long...? o_o"

[lvl27FreakShow]

Knoton looks on with wonderment, asking himself, "what do these two know of each other?" There is a spike of anticipation as the hooded man walks back into the room, as Knoton whatches this he wonders, contemplating, anxious.

[deadpony]

Ziad "Scrud" Sneekyfoot

"WHAT!?!" Ziad yelled abruptly, but quickly pulled his hood over his head in embarrasment and hopes that no one would figure out that the cry came from him. I hate being short, he thought, thats obviously the only reason that I wasnt chosen. If only he could see me....

[Fenria]

Patrick

(To Bastiel) "Well, when ya' think abou' it. It makes sense tha' it would take tha' long. Everyone wants ta' see th' oracle, and I'm sure it' takes him more than jus' a few minutes ta' divine the person's destiny. I'm Na' all too worried abou' it, I have no where else ta' be."

Finishing his shield, Patrick sets it on his bag and pulls out his hammer. He quickly inspects it, finds it just a bit too dirty for his liking, and begins to polish it to.

[Chu]

"Mmnn... well, I suppose that's true... I'm just wondering if there's anything that we can do that might catch his eye next time he comes out... any ideas?"

[Visturon]

Caeradwyn Hp:15/15 Ac:19
Caeradwyn watches the proceedings calmly and with his usual smile and chuckle. Finding the impatience of the crowd to be a great source of entertainment.

[Fenria]

Patrick Hp:14/14 AC: 19

(To Bastiel) "Well, I think tha' if we show tha' we are patient he'll be more likely ta' pick us ou' of the crowd. Being content an' smilin' in a crowd o' aggita'ed people tends ta' set ya' apart."

Hammer clean, Patrick slipped it back into his belt and rested his back against the wall, hands behind his head.

"Like I said a'fore, I got nowhere ta' be, so I'm fine with spendin' as long as it takes here in the city."

[Kirstin]

Basura AC:12 HP:9/9

Basura watches all she can see from her short stature with a studious gaze from her big brown eyes and replies thoughtfully to Balthazaar “Something in his appearance tells me that he might be this Oracle we are all here to find,” then a little quieter and with a look solidly locked on him “And your choice of greeting tells me that you study the arts of the Death Magics that so many of our peers feel are wrong, am I not correct?” Basura then sets her backpack down and proceeds to find a comfortable position seated on it.