|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri May 12, 2006 7:39 am
GM POST.
As dawn breaks within the Realm, the world of "Reality" continues to race araound and around regradless. The two worlds operating independant of each other. Although, not is as it seems.
Though the "Realm" has been changed over it's centuries by the deeds of "Realities" men and women, for seem reason things have changed by another. As if some unseen hand is undoing everything that is imroved upon. Cities leveled. Races destroyed. Even entire countries are wiped from the map.
And even though all this is going on, life for the most part is still the same. The fighting. The love. The bloodshed. It was all the same.
In "Reality" life just keeps on trucking by, regradless of what century it was.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 12, 2006 8:23 am
Username: ManagerKyoto Reality Name: Nick Jones Age: 25 Location: Sydney Australia, 2615 Appearence: Nick stands about 6'2" tall and is of average build. He has long brown hair that is always tied back. His skin is pale from lack of sun exposure and his eyes are slowly losing there dark brown colour. When he is required to wear clothing, Nick wears suits from various periods of history. Occupation: Restaurant Owner Brief History: Nick Jones has always been wealthy. His parents owned and operated a mulitude of successful restaurants. And when they died in a tragic accident, Nick inheritted the lot. Yet it was never his interest. He hired three Restaurant Managers to look after his parents interplanetitary empire. This was so that he could spend as much time in the "Realm". In the "Realm" he was everything he ever wanted to be. Realm Name: Pedrius Age: 230 Appearence: When you look at Pedrius, you are basically looking straight back at Nick. Save for a few small differences. One being Pedrius' face is battle scarred, having one that runs down from the top of his head to the center of his chest. The other is that Pedrius is slightly taller and has larger muscles.  Alignment: Good Class: Paladin Magic: Advanced Holy Magic. Weapon: b*****d Sword created from holy fire and a tower shield of divine protection. Brief History: Pedrius has been in active serice against the forces of evil for 230 of the "Realm"s years. In that time, he has had to save many a player, stop many a foe from destroying everything and he has also played a part in sending a demon back to it's dimenson. For his unrelenting service, Pedrius has been granted near god like holy abilities.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 14, 2006 8:28 am
Username: Tanaquil_night Reality Name: Dekieartra Aequitous Veritas Age: she hasn't been back to reality in so long it's unknown Location: (in time and space) somewhere on the east coast of america in the twentyfirst century. Appearence: (pictures are ok, description better) Large dark eyes rimmed with thick dark lashes. she's got a few scars on her body that she's normally very consious about. Her hair had been, the last she'd been there, quite dark, midnight like that of her mothers, and shoulder length. Occupation: N/A Brief History: She doesn't remember too much of that life. Just call it traumatic amnisia. She doesn't remember the two years she spent going about with the 'whites' after her father left. Doesn't remember the fights, the screams, or even the pain of a mother who didn't care to listen to the reminder of the man she had once loved. No, she didn't remember much anything of that life. Realm Name: Dekieartra (D'artra) Aequitous Vimuku-Finnatos Age: 27...ish Appearence: (pictures are ok, description better) She stands at the proud height of 5'7. Hair of the finnest spun silver falls in straight sheets down about her shoulders. Her eyes are as dark as night, wide and seemingly almost too large. Her features are petite, almost french. high cheekbones, a button of a nose, and an unobtrusive chin. She wears a dress that churns about her like the darkest of unholy vileness. it had been a gift. but she never did remember he that gave it to her. she also remembers her hair had been a gift too, for undoubedly it used to be as dark as her eyes. She wears heavy combat boots beneath the folds of the skirt of the dark dress and has come to don a pair of fingerless gloves. Alignment: (good, evil or somewhere between) Somewhere in between, she switches from one to the other at the drop of a hat. Class: (like Mage, Warrior, Rouge, etc) She has the potential to be a great Paladin or a great DarkGuard but remains untrained in either. instead she knows how to handle blades, and is quite proficient with them, however, she still has a long way to go before she's anything out of the ordinary. Weapon: Twin Ketenes that both rest on her right hip, slipped beneath a belt that defines her form a little better than the flowing dress. hidden all over her body is an array of throwing knives, though we're not about to give away where they might be. *winks* Brief History:She came to the realm as a child, having learned of its exsistence through her father. When finally she made her descision she chose to remain. She doesn't remember too much about that, nor does she recall too much of her life before Alacade. The Corverian male had found her and took her in, raising her much like a daughter in his own right. He was like a guardian, a magnificent beast of power that shielded her lovingly beneath his wing. When she reached the age of 17 he left, laughingly telling her that they would meet up again in one year in a tavern nearly halfway across the country. Determined to make him proud she began her treck. On her eighteenth birthday she celebrated in a tavern with the man she had come to look up upon as a father figure. They traveled together as companions for another year or so before they split ways, him going to return to the little hobble of a home he had gained throughout his many years of existence and she chose to continue travelling. Since she has seen many things, and learned quite the bit, but remains docile about most everything, the only sign of wear in her appearence is the dark shadows hiden behind her eyes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 14, 2006 9:14 am
Nick burst through the front doors of his mansion. His hands were held deep in his pockets. It was not because he was cold,it was because he was shaking. For three days, Nick had been unable to enter "The Realm" and for three days he craved it. Only within "The Realm" did he feel like himself. Only there, he was free.
As quickly as possible, Nick raced through the mansio and was jsut removing items of clothing as he ran. By the time he was standing in front of his quarters, he was only in his underpants. Slding them off, Nick entered alnd stared upon his bed. When he lay down on that bed, instantly he would fall asleep. Instantly he would enter the "Realm".
And he did. Nick quickly jumped into his bed and dived under he covers. It only took 15 minutes for him to doze off and into the "Realm".~~~ Slowly, Pedrius lifted his head to the world aroud him. From his vantage point, nothing from the Shire of Middle Northbough escaped his gaze. Down in that little village, everyone went about their day to day lives completely obilvious to Pedrius unrelenting vigil. And then it happened. A small, but noticed scream. Like a marksman hitting his mark, Pedrius leaped into action- in more ways then one. From his vantage point- the top of the surrounding hill- Pedrius just jumped and landed about 10 meters away from the crime. With his claok blowing in the wind, some might have thought him an angel. True, Pedrius was a servant to the heavenly beings. Yet he was not an angel. Just a man out to quell evil when it arose. And Pedrius' entrence got the attention it needed, the evil doer attacked him. With arrows and buck shots bouncing of his armour, Pedrius just stared off into the sky. He remembered the days when this sort of thing would have killed him. Made his desire to come back greater. Yet now, likely to be one of the most powerful players, this sort of thing was just childish. From the stray pattern, Pedrius knew it was a new player. "Stop!" Pedrius shouted. As he did so, the arrows and buck shots stopped mid flight. The attacker did not know what to do. "Before you think about even drawing your sword, remembe this- I am far more powerful then you. If you want to survive to play some more, just walk away from his village do devote your life to something else. Raping the innocents is just not worth it. In this world, it is nothing like in the real world. So go, leave this place and become a warrior of some sort."And with that, Pedrius turned at slowly walked out of the village.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 14, 2006 9:34 am
"You are sure?" Her voice was a threaded whisper of a sound. She stood at the crossroads nearly a mile from the tiny outlet of Northbough, to her right stood a silver-furred Lupine, his humanoid body towering at an intimidating seven foot vantage point. A long scar upon his muzzle made him all the easier to remember, and somehow made his threat seem so much greater.
The traveler's honey eyes had drifted past the young woman to rest upon this fear inducing sight. "I-uh-yeah, s-she-uh-she lives down beyond the point, just-er-just west of the village."
D'artra sighed, brushing stray strands of silver from her eyes. She didn't mind the fact that the man hadn't once looked her way, in fact, it seemed to make her all the more comfortable. then again, such was the tendencies when you were backed by 600 ilbs of pure wolven muscle. "Thank you."
She didn't bother to wish the traveling merchant a safe journey as she walked around him, her hand stoically resting upon the hilts of the twin ketenes at her hip.
"You're displeased." The Lupine observed, his deep barotone voice coming out in raspy octaves.
"Shouldn't I be?" She laughed. It was a humorless sound. "The damned wench did that to you KNOWING how you'd take it!"
He didn't reply, his different colored eyes lifting to fall on the road before them. He didn't understand his companion, but he could catch the defensive scent in her words. The underlying emotion in her prowling gait.
"We'll check out Northbough, grab somethin to eat, then see if we can't find where she's burried her nose this time." She said the words off-hand, just as she'd said them the last three towns that they'd visited in search of the devious little vixen.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon May 15, 2006 6:01 am
"Stuff this, no one can be that powerful!" the attacker screamed. "Get your sorry arse back here and fight me!"
Pedrius just stopped in his tracks and shook his head. New players never listened. And to think, Pedrius was going to let him live. Yet now, forced to fight, Pedrius only saw one outcome to the situation. Successful submissive application of force.
The attacker charged and Pedrius just watched. A simple charge with a sword raised above his head, Pedrius had seen it before. Too many times. For all those around, it looked like Pedrius was going to just take the hit. That is until the last moment.
Like a bolt of lightening, Pedrius drew his mighty sword and thrust it right through the attackers chest. For a brief moment there was utter silence. For the attacker, it was obvious to all it was his first death. His eyes screamed with a pain that only one how had been through the same thing would understand. Pedrius leaned in close to his pain and shock ridden face.
"Clean up your act and you will go far in this world. There is much more to it then just having your way. Remember this pain. Remember the feelings. Remember, I can either be your most powerful allie. Or your worst nightmare. the choice is yours."
And with that, Pedrius ripped his sword out of the attacker's chest. Instantly his face changed. From pain ridden to relief filled. The sweet release that death brought would hopefully hammer home Pedrius' message.
The attacker's body fell to the ground and quickly turned to dust. The attacker'smind had been returned to his body in "Reality". Taking a moment to plan his next moves, Pedrius jsut watched the dust blow away in the wind. Toom any times he has had to be the sword in justice's hand.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon May 15, 2006 7:21 am
The towering lupine walked half a step behind the darkly shroud woman, his fur shimmering in the mid-day sun. He let his ears twitch from side to side, listening to the chatter of the people. His keen sense of smell caught wiff of many new scents and many old, both mixing together in the bustle of life that sprung about them.
D'artra shuddered, slipping about the crowd with distaste. She had never gotten accustomed to being around large groups of people. The dark unholy cloth that wrapped about her frame shifted in the breeze, teasing the nearby shadows. She paused to look up at her comapanion. She had always admired his fur, and smirked as she found herself staring at the mother-of-pearl ivory once again.
He blinked at her questioningly and she merely snickered. "I was just wondering what you'd look like if you were shaved."
The face he made forced the pureset laughter to spill from her lips like the waters of innocence fall from the sky. "Oh for pities sake, Coursabal, i was merely kidding! How 'bout you try and sniff us out a good resteraunt?"
He gave her another look which only encouraged another outburst of laughter. Truly that expression was not made for a humanoid wolf! "Would you rather I try to find us a place?"
That notion, however, did get an answer from the normally quiet canine.
"For the love of all things sacred no!" It actually sounded like he was pleading for his life. For there could be no worse a death than eating what the young woman normally scrounged out.
Said woman huffed and crossed her arms over her chest in mock agravation. "HEY! My choices aren't that bad!"
He laughed, a deep rasp of a sound, then brought a paw-like hand down to muss up her silver hair. "Yes, they are."
Pouting and severly let-down D'artra let her dearest friend lead them to the most decent tavern in the town. Sadly they didn't have enough to eat there. And thus were found relaxing in the back of the Tavern of The Sleeping Serpent. The shadows seemed to want to gather about the pale female as she dipped stale bread into the thick stew in an attempt to soften it. "What a fair crop..."
Coursabal didn't say anything, but instead set himself to the task of chewing on a burnt scrap of a steak patty.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 16, 2006 4:09 am
Coursabal reached across the table and moved her mug of Grog away from her, his different colored eyes leveling with her own dark spheres. He shook his head in the subtlest of warnings, his ears twitching silently as if listening to something.
D'artra thought for a moment before returning the softest of nods and took another bite of the thickly peppered stew. They had often worked in such ways. Without words. And through such they had not only become closer as friends, but could readily respond to the body language of others here in the Realm. For those who knew how to listen and watch could easily predict much from just how a person stood.
So it was no surprise when an aged man who, up until that point, had remained quiet, stood up in outrage. He snarled, his battle-scarred appearance stained with the filth of his anger. He had consumed quite the bit of grog himself, and as such stumbled towards a nearby table where the object of his outburst had grown from. A group of young men, over half of which didn't seem to know up from down in this place. They had been talking loudly, obscene and insulting just to hear.
As the older warrior fell managed to right himself before their table his hand reached for the hilt of a falchion that was strapped to his hip. He growled a few profanities at the youngsters, his gray eye a cold blue-steel in the dim light.
D'artra looked to Coursabal and he turned his muzzled face slightly to the side before continuing on in his meal. She hadn't expected much differently from him. It was his way of saying, 'if you do this, you do it alone'. He was the kind who didn't like to get involved unless he was willing to stick with it forever. This aspect would make him a loner amongst a world of groups. Somehow, though, he had found himself a way to enjoy the company of another, and marveled at how easily she could do that which he could not. It was almost...annoying.
She stood silently, giving a nod and hooking stray strands of silver behind an ear. Then without a word she turned and rushed over towards the intoxicated warrior. He was still fighting with freeing his weapon. The table of young men, however, was struggling to retrieve their own weapons.
The old warrior wouldn't have a chance. Regardless of how good he was or not.
D'artra ran straight up to his side, wrapping her arms about his own in a display of worry. Those who were sitting at the table saw it as the childish affection that it was made to seem...but the older man felt the strength in her arms as she forced him to hold his blade within its sheath. She looked to the others with large dark eyes, "Please, don't..." She then turned her overly large eyes up towards the older, and slightly taller, man. "...Please, Father...leave them be."
The dark material of her dress had almost knowing wrapped about her own weapons, hiding them from view with ease. She was amazed every time the dress would do something. it was as if it were communicating with her will. She wished to deceive, it made her look the part of innocent.
The old warrior looked down at her, his right left eye was scarred shut, leaving just the changing gray of the right.
She pleaded with her eyes. Even if this group of brats deserved to be slaughtered from this side of the kingdom to the next...it wasn't worth an older patron's life. If it meant it she'd kill the lot of them. But until they struck the first blow she'd much rather settle things this way.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 16, 2006 4:37 am
Only once they were back to her table did either of them say anything, the sounds of mockery following them with each step.
"Why did you stop me?" His voice was thickly accented and slurred a little bit, but his eye was cold and damning as he took a seat a good distance about the table from the eating lupine.
D'artra shrugged as she sat down, adjusting her own blades so that they weren't digging into her side. "The smell of blood doesn't sit well with me when I've got a full stomach." She took the tiniest bite of potato from her stew before looking up at him from over her spoon. "Feel free to continue your ranting rage once you leave this place, by all means, go ahead and kill the sorry blokes. Just so long as it doesn't disturb my meal...though I should admit, you should make sure you can clear the blade of the sheath before trying to clear it through flesh."
She took another bite, trying to hide the wince at the taste of strong pepper. Coursabal hid his wolfish smirk behind the rim of her mug. He had finished his own and begun to drink hers rather than ask for more. There was a still contemplating silence growing from the table as D'artra ate. She finished off half the loaf of stale bread and nearly over half of the bowl of stew. The old man blinked in wonderment as the bowl was shoved before the table in front of him. He looked up to see the silver-topped woman had stood, and she held out the half-loaf of bread towards him. He looked confused, so she answered the unasked question.
"Eat up, clear up, and if you still wish them dead...kill them. But give your body what it needs first and foremost."
Coursabal stood as if she had commanded it and looked at her, his different colored eyes seeming to glow with warmth. She barely had to nod her head before they were both headed for the door. The food had already been paid for in advanced, it was his choice if he ate it and took her advice, or if he went back on his angered tangent. Either way, she would never know. Coursabal wondered if she even really cared...but then again, did he? They continued down the street once more...
It was as though they were alone, walking side by side, and not in the bustle of a town. Their attentions spanned only as far as the immediate, taking in everything, but seeing nothing that should affect them.
"Can you smell her here anywhere?"
Coursabal shook his head in silent response. He hadn't caught scent of the female since a mile before town.
She understood that it was time for her to ask someone again... she sighed. She hated this part.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 16, 2006 4:54 am
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 16, 2006 7:34 am
Pedrius walked under the shade of a large tree and sat down. A small crowd started to gather around the pile of dust. Those crowding around where not from "Reality" but from this realm. And dispite how many times they saw on "Outsider" die, it always amazed them.
At this point in time, all Pedrius wanted to do was clean his mighty sword. It had been awhile since he last did it. Looking down at it's firey blade, Pedrius jsut thought of the many battles it had seen. The many victories it had been instrumental in creating. He also thought of the many times it had tasted innocent blood. Pedrius did not dwell those, for they were in dark times. Really dark times.
He pulled the cleaning cloth out from a pocket and just started to wipe the blade down. It was Pedrius' only down time. Being a high knight of the light. Most likely the highest, he was always on the look out for trouble. Or somewhere his help might be needed. And trying to force their way through the crowd, came two such beings. One being a tall and muscular Lupine, who by his movements appeared to be a player. Yet Pedrius could see past that and to the fact that he was born and breed here.
The second was a player, yet she tried to come across as been a natural. Pedrius was sure that no one would buy it, mainly due to the fact of her appearence. Silver hair, black cloak and an air of mystery around her.
Pedrius watched them move through the crowd and made a small whisle.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 16, 2006 7:55 am
Both heard, but the only indication of such was the silver lupine allowing his ears to both twitch in that direction.
D'artra felt her companion tense, the hair on the back of her own neck bristling with caution. She thanked the woman who had told her little more than the last guy, and turned to look up at the towering form of her wolfish companion. She admired his coat once more before giving him a silent nod of her head.
She slowly picked her way from the crowd, her right hand resting effortlessly upon the pommels of her twin ketenes as she moved. Let's just call it insurance. Unlike her companion she seemed quite calm as she came to a halt half a score of paces from Pedrius. Coursabal stopped just behind her, almost like a guardian angel...only instead of wings he had a snout and 600ilbs of furry muscle.
D'artra looked up at the sir-knight as stray strands of silver slipped into her face. Her features screamed innocence and purity, her aura almost bright with intensity...however, this close, it was clear that her cloak wasn't a cloak at all, but a gown that twisted with dark vileness...a darkness to shield away the light. She waited patiently, her dark eyes regarding him with a stoic air. She had known too many that claimed good intent who found themselves passing judgment unfairly. So she would wait. Letting him decide whatever it was he came to without sound of praise nor scorn.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 16, 2006 8:03 am
Pedrius watched the two make their way before him. Giving them the quick once over, he determined that their threat was small. That is as long as his intension were pure. That for the most part, they were.
Yet when they stood in front of him, expecting to hear the reason for their summons, Pedrius just continued to sit in the shade and polish his blade. But he would acknowledge them. In time.
With one long slide of the cloth down the blade, Pedrius opened his mouth to speak.
"If you want to know what I think about your little vandetta against who ever it is, I suggest you consider your steps wisely."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 16, 2006 9:31 am
D'artra gave the softest of nods, showing she understood what it was he was speaking, and had already done such. Her voice was gentle, soft, and silken, barely audible as it slipped past her lips.
"And what would you suggest..."
She felt Coursabal relax a little behind her, though to the average person he still seemed all the powerfully intimidating. Even so, this wasn't an average person they were dealing with...and since this was their first time in this land it wasn't surprising that she'd never met this particular knight before.
"...if I was merely curious of your name?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 18, 2006 7:58 am
Pedrius continued to polish his blade. It had taken little effort to renew it's firey gleam. Pleased with the job, he carefully slid it back into the steath. Pedrius then proceded to put the cleaning cloth carefully away, ensuring it would not suddenly come lose in the heat of battle. Not that there was much battle these days.
Pedrius looked up at the two before him and studied what he could of there appearence. After a short while, Pedrius continued with his "lesson".
"My name is Pedrius. And if you are wondering, I am Holy's highest ranking player. I have also seen that the Darkness can do first hand. I prefer Holy's style. Anyway, around these parts Holy's agents are more common. I do not know the real reason for it, but it just so. And your vandetta, now matter how justified you are in it, would more than likely be considered the work of Darkness. Do you get what I am hinting at?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
