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Post by Paddy Quick on Dec 31, 2016 2:59:26 GMT
High in the mountains of Old Khoroth, the ancient Kingdom that had lived and died before even the old Empire, there was a tavern nestled among three of Ardell's highest peaks. It saw few travellers these days, for Old Khoroth's days were long in the past. Orcs, dwarves and men no longer cared for its frigid peaks and had forgotten all of its ancient secrets ... all but a few, and only one in a million souls knew the truth. Only one in a million knew that the legendary mage Ilurian was not a legend at all.
Five adventurers sat around the large table in front of the fireplace, drinking mead and eating legs of roast chicken. There was William the Bastard, an archer from the Kingdom of Ashdell, not too far from here in the scheme of things. There was John Nobody, a fire mage with the personality of a dull stone. There was Valentine, a mysterious half-elf rogue. There was Lyle of Longbarrow, a gruff hedge knight with a sordid past. And then there was Paddy Quick, the thief prince of Nhinemarq and the brain who had pulled these professionals together.
Before them lay a map, and a plan. They were going to find the Seven Aspects of Ilurian and drink from the fountain of knowledge, and woe betide any who stood in their way.
Paddy looked at the sorry little group, knowing that five would likely not be enough. Hopefully more had received his message and would come.
[OOC: The Seven Aspects of Ilurian are talismans (kind of like horcruxes) that each carry an aspect of the personality of Ilurian. Each aspect is an amulet that if worn, grants a minor buff to the wearer. Combine all seven and an ambiguous "fountain of knowledge" reward is promised, though what that is exactly remains to be seen.
Seven threads. Seven Aspects. Can we unite them all?
Opposition is also welcome.]
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Post by Tynan Glendon on Dec 31, 2016 3:44:36 GMT
Immortality was the greatest wish of mortals. They wished to experience the passing of time far after others had faded to the void. But time was meaningless to those who never died. Tynan had been "gifted" immortality yet all he wished for was for a return of his mortality. Morryxa had stolen his right to a restful death, his right to being human...ish. He had seen far more than he cared to and had been to places forgotten by the living. He wanted to release himself of this blessing from his Goddess. Word had reached Tynan's ears about a group seeking out the Aspects of Ilurian. He had heard of this treasure before, but never could discover any hints to where they might rest. This was in no small part due to the constant interventions of the voice that forever haunted his thoughts. Her voice. The last voice he wished to hear yet was fated to for longer than eternity. The place where those seeking had gathered at was a tavern in Old Khoroth. A place that Tynan had not yet visited. The door to the tavern suddenly opened up as a hooded figure walked in. Tynan closed the door behind him then looked at the five gathered around a table. The seekers no doubt. They seemed to be planning, or at least the map in front of them was doing that. All of them were men as well. Where women not allowed to take part in these sort of adventures? Might be a good thing in cas- All males. You have my blessings. Try not to die too quickly my love.
And she did notice. She always noticed. Tynan walked over to the group and said, "Do ye seek the Aspects of Ilurian?" Ye? That word had not been used in decades or even a couple centuries. Why use ye? He would blame it on age, but immortals did not exactly suffer from that affliction. Paddy Quick
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Post by Aldacer on Dec 31, 2016 5:16:32 GMT
Back to questing... There was a good bit of life left in him yet. His powers grew the more he used them, his faith in his Lord was justified. Though more oft than not those watching him close would note his iris were not grey, but metallic silver. And the sclera often had a pearlsecent sheen to them. But still, he sought more understanding of the Ancient Tomes and texts he had begun to decipher. And the Seven AspectS? Well what could they do but help him in that undertaking? So into the tavern he walked, sword at his hip, Shield at his back. Those two were all that were visible outside the tattered and worn grey cloak he wore to cover his burnished armor. Each day he seemed to find a new bind-rune or benediction to carve onto it. But the crown like helm, burnished gold and star-silver with gunmetal steel twisted together, was not such that he could hide. Nor would he. A Venator was a questor, or should be. Thus, the hiding of his helm and Order was tantamount to a lie and that would be counter to his Oath. Outside, someone yelled and a thud was heard against the wall. Followed by a deep bellow and bleating like a giant sheep had just started combat. Shaking his head, the rather tall dwarf walked to the bar and silently handed the keep the fee for stabling and food and then a few extra coins, nodding his head in apology. Then, after grabbing a hefty mug of ale, he walked over to the group and nodded. Each was examined in turn with a passing glance of considerable depth before he replied. "Seems you could use more help. I would lend you my sword if you will have it..."
Paddy Quick | Tynan Glendon
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Post by Thraka Warchanter on Dec 31, 2016 11:03:32 GMT
@paddy quick Tynan Glendon glendon AldacerAnother voice lingered over the room, sounding more like a sonorous, lumbering beast than a person. Of course many would have though the minotaur a beast, but those many would have also been easy to throw out a window. The man looked at the roughly half-dozen men, going on about a map and an Aspect. An aspect of Ilurion? Wasn't that some sort of long-dead mage? Did he leave version of himself? Like a contruct or some sort of weird demi-ghsot or something? Huh. Interesting. He looked at the other two making an offer, and slowly walked towards the table, setting down a mug most folks could easily fit their whole head in. He nodded to the others. "Hunting for odd things? You seem a good bunch, but if you're hiring, I'll happily lend a hand," he said with a nod of his head, nearly knocking his left horn agaisnt a hanging light. "Sorry, the roof's a touch low," he said, arching his back slightly, somewhat shadowing over the others. He eyed them carefully. The Dwarf was oddly taller than most, and in some truly impressive armor. Thraka didn't know the exact order, but most Dwarven knights were either religious or familial, and his runes looked more liek the sacred type. Probably one of the holy orders--he'd never dealt much with them, but frankly, it meant the man was more a wandering do-gooder than a sellsword. The man in black mentioned the artifiact by name before even saying something kindly. This was important to him, for whatever reason. Meant either he was all business, or he was personally invested in the job. The fellow who had pulled out the map seemed almost like he was trying to look innocuous. He was clever, and presumably a looker by human standards, although there was admittedly little accoutning for taste among people with so little hair. Still, he seemed to be the one in charge. "I'm decent in a fight, and have a knack for finding things others wouldn't. Those sound helpful in your current project?"
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