Red Sea

[Farrelei]

Forging of the Words | Search for the Skies | The Price of Peace | Red Sea
OOC Discussion


Red Sea

[/u][/size][/center]

Forward. Backward.
The soldiers dug their fingers into their guns, moving only with the rocking of the ships. The morning was frozen and silent, save for the chattering of the teeth of the recruit beside them.
Time edged on, but still:
Forward, backward - awaiting the kill.

She stared out into the fog beyond the ships from her point on the port. She slurped up the last of her coffee and she'd seen quite enough.
"For hours we've waited," the Admiral whispered,
"No threat is empty," the Dutchess replied.
"How long do you plan to wait?" Asked he,
"A petty tactic. Fools, are we?"

---

"Eleanore herself pledged a new era for Vadaa. I promise you, my people, that her pledge was more than words. More than words I pledge to you! For the honour of our beloved Empress.
Immestrial will grow, and glorify this world, just as this nation grows to glorify the Empire! We are rich with a land of abundance, and rich with the knowledge of the moment!
I promise to you: the New Era ahead will be more than words. Long live the Empire!"

"Long live the Empress!"

---

The Empire grew too quickly these past 16 years. A glorious, properous nation gleams forth at it's center.
Then again, Energy has played an important past in shaping the 'New Era'. Gardaine, along with the Ancient Capital, became the testing grounds for the future.
We dwindled by. Once upon a time, a glorious nation. What happened? We stood aside.
We can't anymore. Our people can't afford to waste.
We did what we had to do.

There, in lines, the soldiers march, commanders issue their orders and the tanks groan to life.
This garden might not live to see tomorrow. I heard rain was on the way.
"Your Majesty, the Army's been mobilised."
I turn from the porch and manage a sincere expression, "Oh, I know."
My husband stumbles into view - his eyes ablaze with a madman's merriment:
"Danielle! What did I tell you!? Our own stage as the finale! Fetch the Prince, servant, so we can all watch together!"

Yes, the Empire has grown quickly these past 16 years. A glorious, properous nation gleams forth at it's center.
Smoke trails forth from the walls in the distance, and I know -
The history books of Asfare will end their writing today. The Empire of Immestrial stands grand and crushes those all in their way.
But I asked for none of their demons or bloody wars.

Forward, backward: Let them bleed
Til their blood stains red, and they know
The Red Sea.


The Rules[/u][/size]

• Whilst god-modding is allowed, the fate of characters remain to their Creator. If an action or event goes against the Creator's wishes, the offending must oblige to their will.
  
• Out-of-character discussion will be held in this thread, or else within the confines of (([[<<brackets such as any of these>>]])).
  
• You must have had at least one character either previously or currently accepted before posting in this thread.
  

The Pieces

Those Fated to Die[/u]
The humans.[/center]

Characters must be posted under this scaffold. Posted character profiles in the thread will be added to this section by either Frost or myself:
For a scaffold without parts in brackets, see next post.

((Note: Delete any sections in these brackets before posting. Including this. Any sections within <brackets such as these> are optional, please delete them if they're unused, and delete the annoying brackets if they are.))

[b]Creator:[/b] ((Username, please!))
[b]My name:[/b]
<[b]But please, call me:[/b]>
[b]My age:[/b]
[b]My faith:[/b] ((Religion))
[b]I live:[/b] ((Occupation + Location))
[b]My story:[/b] ((Bio))
[b]You see:[/b] ((Appearance. NOTE: If it is an IMAGE, please post the URL, do not actually post the image. It congests the page.))
[b]I like:[/b] ((Post only 3 - no more, no less)) [ul]
[li]
[/li][li]
[/li][li]  [/li][/ul]
[b]But hate:[/b] [ul]
[li]
[/li][li]
[/li][li]  [/li][/ul]
<[b]Oh, and:[/b]> ((Anything else))
[b]Roleplays:[/b] ((RPs in which they previously appeared))

---

Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Danielle.
My age: Is hardly a matter of your concern; a lady never tells.
My faith: Lies wholly with Ngya (Ha'Vadaa).
I live: Queen of Asfare, in the castle of said royalty.
My story: Reigning Queen of Asfare. With my husband and my son, I form the Royal Family - governing power of this great Kingdom. I'm a gentle soul, but I have my limits, and though I married into this position, I am my husband's cousin. I try and live for my people and my son - for the future of Asfare lies in both their hands. Or so it did.
You see: A woman, middle-aged and fragile, her hair beginning to grey. Her eyes a cloudless sky-blue, and also the weakest point of herself, for they always tend to show you what's inside. A figure worthy of belonging to a Queen - not too round, not too twiggy.
I like:

• The serenity of a quiet garden, adorned with the soft chirping of birds and the light patter of water from the can.
  
• My family: They are the highlights of my life.
  
• Appraisal from the lower-folk, to know I've succeeded in bringing a smile.

But hate:

• The taste of coffee.
  
• Stormy weather.
  
• This world's injustice.

Oh, and: This is not a major character. She's here merely as an example of the character profiles, and to see if they work.
Roleplays: Red Sea.


Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Verith.
But please, call me: Prince.
My age: 15.
My faith: Ha'Vadaa.
I live: As governing Prince of Asfare - the castle.
My story: Since birth, I've been part of the ruling trio of these nations of Asfare. Well, kind of. I really do nothing myself. My experience with those my age is little and rare. When I do see them, it's usually from the castle walls - observing their life and wishing I held it. I don't like attention. I'd rather be part of the crowd. Despite that, I always voice my opinion and back it up to the end.
You see: A sturdy boy, looking older than he actually is. I have short, dark brown hair and, to be honest, should probably take up shaving. I have the olive eyes of my father.
I like:

• Watching sport, for I can't play it myself.
  
• Drawing.
  
• Listening to the music of the castle and streets

But hate:

• The confines of my life.
  
• Standing out as a leader.
  
• Disrespect of any regard.

Roleplays: Red Sea.


Creator: Frost.
My name: Shelrair Hemari.
But please, call me: Empress Shelrair, of course.
My age: Gradually increasing, to my disappointment.
My faith: I am an audist.
I live: In Gardaine, specifically, the Palace.
My story: I never belonged as a child, my dearest sister, whom I absolutely adored, died. My mother broke down soon afterward and my father was never home. I left home at a young age. I lived amongst those in the slums, doing anything I could for food and shelter. Then I found religion. I studied all I could about it, I learnt it's teachings and then found a man to love. Part of an elite organisation, my colleagues and I defeated the assailants that thwarted this nation's security, at the expanse of our leader's life, and, even more devastating, the life of my husband's. I became dedicated to serving the people of Gardaine. We expanded the City, almost tripling it's original sie. Typically, other nations became...rather envious. We defended ourselves against our enemies, and then retaliated with a rapid increase of soldiers and weaponry, and crushed some of the World's greatest Countries, with help from our honoured brethren.
You see: media.photobucket.com/image/anime%20black%20hair/Xx-iiCookieMonster/RP%20Characters/Devyana/xxxHolic-82591.jpg?o=13
I like:

• Truffles and Cream.
  
• Silk.
  
• Of course, my Country.

But hate:

• Not getting enough sleep.
  
• My hair not being perfect.
  
• Stubborness.

Oh, and: I love the sunset, and children.
Roleplays: The Price of Peace, Red Sea.


Creator:Frost.
My name:Grand Duchess Merrilow Ouvii
But please, call me:Merri.
My age:Around 28.
My faith:I'll get around to that later. Right now my faith is to my land.
I live:In Poi'Lin as the ruler of Morgheth.
My story:As a child, I swam from island to island, visited friends and family and learnt about the sacred history of my country. My father was once the ruler of the islands but he stepped down and allowed me to do so.
You see:Tanned dark skin and light brown hair, like most of the people who live here. My eyes are hazel coloured. I am a strong woman, but not abnormally.
I like:

• The sun.
  
• The beach.
  
• Relaxing and Resting.

But hate:

• The rain, obviously. It's something I have to come to terms with.
  
• War.
  
• Pain and suffering.

Roleplays:Red Sea.



Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Eleanore Harvery.
But please, call me: Rosa Torquil.
My age: 35 - though I hardly see how it's of any importance.
My faith: I have none - though I do believe quite seriously in Fate, and if a god controls that fate, then so be it: There's a god. I'd consider myself Agnostic, I suppose.
I live: Sometimes in my bar, sometimes in the apartment I own by the local library. Both are quite a fitting residence for a bitch.
My story: How utterly rude. I despise those who pry where their nose shan't belong, and yours belongs elsewhere. All you need know that I tend to my bar (the Abstinate). I have my acquintances, and you have yours. That is all.
You see: A woman, but don't let that get to your head. I've only one arm - the other was involved in a nasty accident - I've long, brown hair and olive eyes, and look my age or perhaps even older.
I like:

• The tales of customers.
  
• Booze.
  
• As much as I hate to admit it, Politics.

But hate:

• Politics.
  
• Certain people.
  
• The rain.

Oh, and: I'm quick with a gun, so don't get any ideas.
Roleplays: Search for the Skies, The Price of Peace, Red Sea.




Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Rhys Vales.
My age: 33.
My faith: Audist? Ha'Vadaan? Who cares? It's all the same.
I live: With the not-so-lovely Rosa, in the room attached to the Abstinate, and work as bartender and manager there.
My story: I was born in a small town, Arriel, and spent my childhood there. My family fled after the Empire spread, seeking refuge in the mountains there. To be honest, I hated that life. Painting is my number one love, and I couldn't get much of that done on the farm way out there. So as soon as I could, I left, and spent my life travelling.
Around six years ago, I came here, and four of those years ago, I met Rosa, and we became good friends. Together we built the Abstinate, and though she'd never tell, she and I've spent a lot of 'friendly' nights together, if you catch my drift. I take every day as it comes.
You see: A diamond in the rough, fairly fit. Short, blonde hair and brown eyes. Nothing spectacular, but I wouldn't say I'm displeasing to look at, neither.
I like:

• Painting.
  
• Women.
  
• Travel.

But hate:

• Silence.
  
• Naivety.
  
• Cleaning.

Roleplays: Red Sea.



Creator: Macca (Farrelei for RS).
My name: Bowen Kas'kov.
My age: 55.
My faith: I don't really know, nor care what to believe. What I do know is that no god will come and save us from ourselves; we have to win our own fights.
I live: With my wife and daughter on a property near the outskirts of the city of Hangyakunin. I'm an ally of justice and I fight to rectify the mistakes of the past. Immestrial has destroyed too many lives, including the one of the woman I once loved, and will continue to crush the weak unless we stop them before they get the chance.
My story: Is long and tedious. As a child, my town was 'cleaned out' by the Empire as an example to others, and probably rightly so - our town was one of the headquarters of the Rebellion at the time. My older brother Recko cared for me, and he and I escaped with members of the Rebellion, who brought us up and trained us as soldiers for their cause.
My brother and I split ways and formed two different causes. Over time we gathered support enough to form the Kas'kov Alliance. We succeeded in our fight, and for a short time, brought peace back to the Empire. I fell in love with future Empress Eleanore, but it wasn't to last. If you read the history books, they'll tell you most what happened since then...
...I tried to return to Gardaine after the 'incident', to set things straight and hopefully show Eleanore - or should I say Rosa - the way things could be. Unfortunately, she was right. There were numerous attempts at my life, and it was a miracle I ever escaped. I spent some years in a small town before following my heart to Hangyakunin to find Elle once again.
It was here I met my wife, and discovered the Resistance, whom I've been faithful to since the day I joined.
I've not seen my brother since I left Gardaine sixteen years ago. I can only hope for the best for him now, but sometimes my mind wanders... Wherever he is, I wish him well.
You see: A middle-aged man, cheery and positive. I used to be a fan of the razor; now I can go months without shaving. Cheryl prefers a bit of a beard, anyway. I have golden-brown eyes and a lighter shade in my hair. I'm rather fit, and quite the looker if I do say so myself!
I like:

• My wife; she's amazing. My daughter Ellie too ((should this be her real name, or a nickname for Eleanore as her real name?)).
  
• A bit of action now and then.
  
• Justice.

But hate:

• The Empire. Now and forevermore.
  
• Politicians - liars and schemers, the lot.
  
• Bigotry.

Roleplays: Search for the Skies, The Price of Peace, Red Sea.



Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Kyou.
But please, call me: Sire.
My age: 31.
My faith: To Sera and the Congregation.
I live: As Sire-head of the Organisation of the Congregation of Serenfas.
My story: As far back as I can remember, there has been Serenfas. That, and my mother. I never knew my father. Nobody except she did. Some of the kids picked on me, as they decided my father was a simple nobody, that I was a 'half-blood', and that I would never hone my aura properly. I trained hard to disprove them.
Sometimes I wonder, though. My cerilie is not easily controlled, and throughout my life I've had violent fits, particularly in the last year before we fled Gardaine. After we left, this fits have become exceedingly rare. I don't particularly care, though. I and two other boys were chosen by the Elders as future candidates for Sirehood. I was the youngest; the other two were both older than I. Due to this, and the rumours of my murky blood, I didn't expect to be chosen. Fate moves in mysterious ways, however. In the end, it was down to one other - Vivian - and I. Vivian was twice my age. It was a shock to the entire Conregation when I was named as the successor to Sirehood.
I never saw Vivian after that.

After fleeing Gardaine, I helped establish Yensera, where I remain Sire for now.
You see: A young man looking vastly younger than he is. Some say I 'manipulated my aura' to flourish in youth; this is false. I have two grey eyes, my right occasionally turning a dull green. My hair is long, and pulled back into a braided ponytail most of the time.
I like:

• Coffee.
  
• Reading.
  
• Yensera.

But hate:

• The Empire.
  
• Cities.
  
• Wine.

Roleplays: The Price of Peace, Red Sea.


Creator: Farrelei.
My name: April Marriane.
My age: 28.
My faith: -shrug- I'm atheistic, to be blunt, but I like to pretend I follow a god. For appearances, and all that.
I live: ooh, I live many lives. On the surface, I'm the Ranran Ambassador to Immestrial. I move between cities, but mainly stay in the Embassy in Gardaine or my residence in Capital State. Beneath that, though... Well, I suppose you could call me a mercenary. They offer me gold, I offer them a chance at independance. It's not all for the money, though, don't get me wrong. I've seen for myself the error of the Empire. I don't agree with tearing it down, though - no. It's the administration that's fucked up. Get rid of the Empress, and reinstate a proper government. That's what I say.
My story: I was born on an Asfarian Mountain (I forget which), migrating to Hangyakunin as a baby. I spent my childhood years there, and my family moved again to Ranra when I was 12. Since then, I aspired to be the first woman Admiral of the Fleet.
Well, things changed. I met people who knew people who fucked people. Let's just say the young Princess isn't so quiet and refined come night... -cough- Anyhow, I was offered this position through my ties and my background. I hated the idea at first, but I'm coping. As for the Resistance, well... Let's say the pay was high. Really high. Even Ranra couldn't offer me as much. But I'm not just doing this for the money. I'm doing it for Ranra, and for Immestrial, and for the whole of Vadaa. History took a wrong turn, annd when the reigns are handed over, I'd really just like to get back on track.
You see: A woman looking slightly older than she may actually be. I've short, messy blonde-brown hair and a stout build.
I like:

• Cards.
  
• Nighttime.
  
• Money.

But hate:

• Summer.
  
• Fat people.
  
• Men.

Oh, and: Children. Did I mention that? Yeah. I really freaking hate kids.
Roleplays: Red Sea.


Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Kott Grorem.
But please, call me: Commander.
My age: 63.
My faith: Ha'Vadaan. The ideas of the Empire have tainted religion there.
I live: As head of 'the Light', and Principal of the South Imperial Academy. My home is in this academy; honestly, I hardly have to leave it.
My story: I was a talented youth. At first, I had no interest in military affairs, instead flirting with the arts as a preferred lifestyle choice. After the Kas'kov Allied Rebellion in Eron, however, and the shockwave that sent through the youth of Hangyakunin in particular at the time, I felt changed. Originally delving into political and diplomatic means of opposition, after the succession of Shelrair and the massacres of any who opposed the Empress shortly after, I enlisted into the Army of Hangyakunin. I trained hard enough to become a Junior Officer after a brief attack on Filsen. However, the day came when they ordered me to put down a riot.
They were women. They wanted the same rights as the women in Gardaine. The Chief of Military at the time, taking inspiration from the massacres of the Empress, ordered an emergency execution of all those involved. I will never forget the face of the first woman I shot. After she fell, she stared directly at me. I stood still. Whilst others around me continued to fire, I could not.
I was discharged that day, for failure to comply with orders. The Governor of Hangyakunin was handed a letter detailing how upset the Empress was, and ordered the public execution of the Chief of Military. I cannot, for the life, of me understand why I could be discharged for an act which even the Empress found "upsetting" (so she described it).
Shelrair personally attended the memorial for the women in Hangyakunin, announced a statue to be tributed in their honour, and personally signed a decree allowing women in Hangyakunin universal rights (the bitch only wanted to stop further riots. She was afraid of what Hangyakunin could turn into). I took time alone to organise my thoughts. I was a mess. Eventually, I ran out of money. My sins were had. I applied for a position at a military school in order to train the youth of tomorrow with a better understanding so they would never be forced into making mistakes as I was. The rest is history. I met my wife at that school. She shared my ideas and aspirations. We were unbreakbable. Eventually, I was offered a position at the Academy, where I now act as Principal. With the support of others, a small number of students and contacts in Ranra, we established 'Light' - a group dedicated to ending the despotism rapidly expanding across Vadaa, a group dedicated to achieving peace and establishing a government for the benefit of the people. My wife and I were the keenest of all to make change happen. She died four years ago, before the group could begin to flourish. My heart was broken, but I dedicated my future effort all to her. For her, I pledge to change the world.
The Light has expanded. With notable members such as Sir Bowen Kas'kov himself (someone who officially has been dead over 16 years), we have grown an underground movement of quite some proportion. For the time being, the Empire do not know of us. Soon, though, they will.
You see: An ageing man. Diry grey-red hair thinning on my head but thick in the beard, wrinkles sagging my every feature. Yes, my body is frail, but my spirit is still young and burning within.
I like:

• Freedom.
  
• Art.
  
• History.

But hate:

• The despot empress Shelrair and her government.
  
• The Auder.
  
• Inequality.

Roleplays: Red Sea.




Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Jervic Byron.
But please, call me: Lord Byron.
My age: 26.
My faith: Ha'vadaan, more or less.
I live: As son to the Governor-General. A lap of luxury, perhaps, but it comes with its grievances.
My story: Being the son to the Governor-General of Hangyakunin is great when you're a kid. I've had servants, tutors, the whole deal. What sucks is when you're forced to accept the beliefs of the time.
All I hear is the words of the Empire, and that's all I'm taught to hear. After being punished for 'thinking too much,' I've come to realise that the world as it stands is in a very difficult predicament. I've taught myself to open my eyes; I've spent time amongst the people and I've travelled where I've had the chance. My kidnapping by the Light several years ago was actually probably one of the best things that ever happened to me.

Working with the Commander and his followers there, I was able to detail a plan for the political future of Vadaa, including the emancipation of Immestrial's vassals and ill-treated territories, as well as the independance of my beloved Hangyakunin. My father, however, will have me bow to the Empress and kiss her feet. He does not trust me to take over as his heir, and I'm sure that, upon his death, another will be appointed his position. After catching wind of my double life, my father had me tortured. I refused to speak too much of the Light, but what I did was enough for them to forrbid me return. Now, the Light doesn't officially exist in the eyes of the government. For a while, I attempted to please my father, indeed attempting to settle into a life of Imperial servitude as he had. Sadly, his health failing him, I realise our relationship will not be mended in time for me to be named his successor. My thoughts lingering between what I deem as right and what is heathen, my wife Lydia has convinced me to see once again the Light.
You see: A young, thin man, bespectacled, with dark brown hair and blue eyes.
I like:

• Power.
  
• Reading.
  
• Games.

But hate:

• Being used.
  
• The arts.
  
• Demons.

Roleplays: Red Sea.

---

Those Cursed to Not

[/u]
Our brethren.[/center]

Characters must be posted under this scaffold. Posted character profiles in the thread will be added to this section by either Frost or myself:
For a scaffold without parts in brackets, see next post.

((Note: Delete any sections in these brackets before posting. Including this. Any sections within <brackets such as these> are optional, please delete them if they're unused, and delete the annoying brackets if they are.))

[b]Creator:[/b] ((Username, please!))
[b]My name:[/b]
<[b]But [i]they[/i] call me:[/b]> ((Demon title/other name))
[b]I look:[/b] ((Age they appear))
[b]I live:[/b] ((Occupation + Location))
<[b]My host:[/b]> ((Human they were before summoning))
[b]My story:[/b] ((Bio of current life))
[b]You see:[/b] ((Appearance. NOTE: If it is an IMAGE, please post the URL, do not actually post the image. It congests the page.))
<[b]My pride:[/b]> ((Notable demonic abilities/traits))
[b]I like:[/b] ((Post only 3 - no more, no less)) [ul]
[li]
[/li][li]
[/li][li]  [/li][/ul]
[b]But hate:[/b] [ul]
[li]
[/li][li]
[/li][li]  [/li][/ul]
<[b]Oh, and:[/b]> ((Anything else))
[b]Roleplays:[/b] ((RPs in which they previously appeared))

---

Creator: Frost.
My name: The Devoted and The Loyal.
But they call us: Alistar and Blight.
You see: Elegance. We both have brown hair and large, ice-blue eyes, we always look our best. I always wear long, nice dresses. I wear suits and leather gloves and shoes.
We live: As Servants of the Empress, but we also carry out any of her orders in the battlefield as well.
Our hosts: Penelope Udge, a slum girl, and Terrence Linos, a servant boy.
Our story: We have always been together, but never in the real world before. We lived under the depths, sleeping, holding hands for milenniums, until we were summoned for the first time, and have served Empress Shelrair ever since.
Our pride: We remember everything, and are incredibly swift and agile.
We like:

• Silence.
  
• Simplicity.
  
• Reading.

But hate:

• Commotion.
  
• Being disturbed.
  
• Ignorance.

Roleplays:Red Sea.

Creator:Frost.
My name:The Cruel.
But they call me:Emilia.
I look:Quite young, but I have lived since the dawn of time.
I live: As a Queen in Gardaine, only a handful of people are higher than I am. I also participate in the political aspects of the Human War.
My host:Serynn Hinotta
My story:Is too long and far too complex for your little minds to articulate.
You see: i1012.photobucket.com/albums/af247/pokeaddict17xakatsukifan17/anime-.jpg
My pride:My title says it all. I am one of the most powerful of my kind.
I like:

• Being provoked.
  

But hate: I don't really hate anything, I enjoy peace and solace, but I also enjoy strife and chaos.
Roleplays:The Price of Peace, Red Sea, Forging of the Words.

---

The Dead

[/u]
May they rest in peace.[/center]

[Farrelei]

Scaffold - Those Fated to Die

[/u]


[b]Creator:[/b]
[b]My name:[/b]
<[b]But please, call me:[/b]>
[b]My age:[/b]
[b]My faith:[/b]
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[b]I like:[/b] [ul]
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[b]But hate:[/b] [ul]
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<[b]Oh, and:[/b]>
[b]Roleplays:[/b]

Scaffold - Those Cursed to Not[/u]


[b]Creator:[/b]
[b]My name:[/b]
<[b]But [i]they[/i] call me:[/b]>
[b]I look:[/b]
[b]I live:[/b] ((Occupation + Location))
<[b]My host:[/b]>
[b]My story:[/b]
[b]You see:[/b]
<[b]My pride:[/b]>
[b]I like:[/b]  [ul]
[li]
[/li][li]
[/li][li] [/li][/ul]
[b]But hate:[/b] [ul]
[li]
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<[b]Oh, and:[/b]>
[b]Roleplays:[/b]
[/center]

[Frost]

"Look! There!" Shouted a pointing soldier from the front of the ship.
A single dot was painted onto the pitch-black canvas. It was a starless night, with only the moon illuminating the calm seas before the Morghethian Ships.
The ships themselves were medium-sized in stature and were made from thick iron. They were covered in sharp and jagged sheets of steel for added protection and are also used as a form of offense. Atop each ship is a catapult-like structure, and below each ship is a series of large cannons across each side. There are also two maneouverable cannons on the front of each ship that were slightly larger than most and are also able to be moved up and down.

"A messenger perhaps?" The Admiral asked to Grand Duchess Merrilow Ouvii, who stood up from her seat and watched the tiny light slowly approach.
Merrilow's eyes narrowed.
"They've already sent one of them. They know that negotiations are pointless now, they're not the kind that give second chances," She replied.
The light flickered from left to right, and then dropped down, like a tired butterfly.
"Is that some sort of code?" Asked the Admiral once more.
As the airship came closer and closer into view, the more Merrilow's eyes widened.
Soldier's everywhere gasped as they too realised what had occured.
The airship's wings were jagged and wrecked, the propeller was sputtering weakly and it was smudged with flames and smoke, but that was not what made the Morghethian Soldiers gasp in shock and horror, what shocked them was the flag that sat atop the plane.
It wasn't a Gardaine airship.
It swerved this way and that, the engine left a thick trail of smoke that was only now visible to the naval army. It flew over the countless amounts of ships, eyed the entire time, and continued it's unknown path behind them.
Suddenly, another light formed in the skies in front of them. And another. And another.
Merrilow bit her lip and cursed before picking up a cone-shaped shell,
"All soldiers load their weapons! Prepare the cannons! Fill the catapults! Hurry now!"
People everywhere loaded gunpowder, iron balls and stone as more and more lights filled the sky, already there were hundreds, perhaps thousands.
Merrilow rushed up to the Admiral who was preparing the crew.
"Admiral Ail'i, prepare my undersea craft, some of us can survive tonight."

---

"Turn off the lights."

---

Suddenly, the airships disappeared, as each light was turned off.
People everywhere amongst the ships yelled and screamed in confusion as panic filled their thoughts.
Merrilow once again shouted into the shell.
"Quiet! Once they are close enough to the moonlight we'll be able to see them! Focus!" She screamed as loud as she could, but due to her usual calm and relaxed voice, it wasn't very heroic or loud.

---

"Now turn them all on completely. Including the searchlights," Came a voice that was heard from each airship.

---

Suddenly, a blinding light shone from the airships, unfocusing the soldier's eyes and causing them to squint. Their engines roared, deafening them, as bullets rained down onto the awaiting ships below them.
"Fire!" Screamed Merrilow, her eyes shut and her voice ringing in fear as planes flew dangerously close to her.
The catapults launched thousands of rock splinters into the sky, slicing through the propellers and wings of the airships and causing them to crash into the ocean.
Large explosives were dropped from the airships, exploding and flinging soldiers into the sea and leaving gaping holes in the ships.
Cannons fired up into the sky.
Bombs fell into the ocean.
Humans from both sides fired upon one another.
Hundreds of Gardaine pilots plummeted into the ocean, as hundreds of sailors and ships sunk.

---

"Begin the fire plan."

---

The airships opened their cargo hold, letting gallons of fuel into the ocean and onto the ships and their crews.
Merrilow's Admiral screamed as he along with Merrilow's crew were soaked with it.
Merrilow shook her head with fear as she realised what was coming next.
She ran down underground, as the airships dropped their last explosive, transforming the ocean into a sea of flames as people were burned alive and their ships scorched with fire.
Tears streamed down from the Duchess' eyes as the screams of her soldiers and friends echoed from above. She ran and opened a thick iron door, leading her into a small room where a spherical -shaped boat sat floating in a square pool of water.
She opened it's doors and flicked a switch, causing 4 weights to drop from it's roof and into the water, lowering the craft down a large water tunnel.
She flicked another switch next to it, causing 2 of the weights to snap off so that the new invention rose slightly off of the seafloor.
"Let's go!" She told the crew behind her, she hadn't meant to yell, but if she didn't, they would've heard the pain in her voice.
The groaning of sinking steel filled the ocean, as did the bodies of her people.
She watched as several more undersea craft were launched from other ships, joining alongside her, filled with women and children, the elderly and the sick.

Taking one last glance of her country, she turned and fled her nation, as it was engulfed in blood and fire...

[Farrelei]

((Lolol submarine balls ;D))

It was a great big "Fuck you."
He'd finally gotten it just right - the notes were perfect, and his timing was constant: The music came as intended. All it took was a little over-nudging of the knob, and there. Fuck you. The string snaps.
To make matters worse, as Verith examined the century-old string from the historic fiddle (which he knew he wasn't supposed to touch), footsteps approached almost immediately. There wasn't anywhere he could hide it, really. He spun around where he was sitting, and hoped that whoever came in just wanted to convey a message.

"Stay back!"
Shouts filled the air as the enemy soldiers came nearer. It was all in vain - Asfare hit Hangyakunin first - and without any diplomacy to boot. Hangyakunin fought back, and as time crept along, other nations joined their side. Now, it seemed, there were Gardaine tanks amongst the other nations of the Empire - and more than expected.
It was a cowardly war.
Their screams were shortly masked, though, by the first round of mortar fire to the walls of the capital.

"Such spite," she whispered, staring at the rising smoke.
The King wrapped his arms around her waist, "What fools we are, my Queen, to think we'd win in the slightest!"
"No, what fools we were to attack before meeting."
"It doesn't matter," he sneered, "They would never help us; and if we alerted them to our need for resources first, they would have defeated us long before we even showed up at their borders."
Prince Verith was ushered into the room by the messenger (who didn't really noticed the violin, by the way). He knew already that something wasn't right, by the urgency of all the others around him.
Danielle stepped forward, and gripped his hand, "Look, Verith. What do you see?"
"...Smoke?"
She nodded, "I don't know what will happen, but they're here."
"And we've lost!" Screamed the King, running from the room, now completely gone mad.

Two hours into the battle saw the Queen of Gardaine rolling in past the gates.
"Don't forget these," her Maidservant said, dangling some gloves in front of Her Majesty's face.
She brushed them aside and disembarked, smelling the smokey air about her.
It's not as cold as they said it was.
The pillars were black and scorched, and dead bodies lay about the bottom, propped up and obviously searched for anything valuable already.
"Queen Emilia," a soldier saluted, "Is anything wrong?"
She took no notice of him, instead stepping forward to survey the castle that lay in the distance ahead of them. It was pathetic. At least, compared to the Palace. That being said, Emilia probably would prefer to live in neither of them.
"Your Majesty?"
She turned and walked until she stopped by the side of the soldier, "I'm fine."
"Your Majesty!"
His voice irriatated her. "What?"
He pointed. She turned in time to see the flaming boulder descend upon a tank. There was a crack, a boom, and then smoke rushing past them, little pebbels of fire jumping around about their feet.

"They not going to stop, so fight back," Danielle commanded.
Verith stood on the balcony, immersed in the workings of it all. His parents had both witnessed a war before, on foreign ground. This was the first he'd seen, and it were on his own.
There were three mortars aligned along the castle. Normally, these were used as decoration. But this wasn't the first time they'd been used for defence.
The second and third rows of mortar fire were released onto the city it protects.

Another explosion, more smoke. The soldier beside her begged Emilia return to her transport. She looked up. Another approached. She raised an arm and shot a wave of myst at the boulder, smashing it before it reached the ground, and sending little balls of fire falling to the ground around where it flew.
As the building to the right of her lit up with said balls of fire, the building on her left came to life with Asfarian soldiers. They opened fire and shot down as many soldiers as they could before the Empire even realised what was going on. There were cheers from both sides, and soldiers rushed out of the now-burning building, pointing their guns in Emilia's direction.

Their screams came next, and sparks of electricity flowed through all who came too close like a web. Emilia stepped forward and violently pushed her hand into the nearest soldier's face while she killed them. He screamed the most, and the smell of his burning skin overcame that of the smoke around her.
The army on her left still fought on, and a few decided to try and shoot her. The bullets screamed and burst off in other directions before they even came close to hitting her. She was about to attack the idiots herself before her side got the edge and shot them down.
Realising she was still electrocuting that one soldier, she stopped the flow and watched with disgust as his face melted off her hand, and he collapsed in a steaming pile below. What was left of his face now burnt alight.
She stomped back and slammed the door behind her as she settled in her seat, frowning as she peeled and picked little remains of enemy face off her hands.
The maidservant clicked her tongue, "That'll be a bitch to clean off."
Emilia adjusted her hat with her left hand, "Next time remind me to wear my gloves."
She them on the Queen's lap,
"Not now, they'll stink. I haven't had to do that since god knows how long. Trust Vendarn to be organised with his troops."
The vehicle lurched. Emilia looked up.
"We're retreating," the driver announced.
Emilia expressed an abrupt, "Hm." And left it at that.

---

"They're retreating: we've gained the upper-hand, Your Majesties."
The Queen turned in her chair and nodded to the messenger with thanks.
"For now," muttured the King after he messenger left, "But it's inevitable. We should have waited."
"But we couldn't," said Verith, speaking up, "We hadn't the means to wait any longer. That's the reason we fought, and fight now."
His father grunted, "The Energy Cannon we stole from them wasn't even completed. If it were ready, we'd use it now. We may have even conquered their 'Ancient Capital'. Now, we're sitting ducks."
"Please. Have faith. Ngya will aid us in fighting those who slander His name and paint their so-called 'gods' in his place on thrones."

---

The Asfarian Army gained back their lost ground, pushing the Empire further and further. Despite the diminished size of their military after eight months' war with Hangyakunin across the continent, their homestead defences proved commendable.
Emilia could not be more vexed at their situation. "This is the last time I head to a battlefield before it is domineered. My faith in our forces has waned."
Angel, her Maidservant, seemed more impatient then herself. She didn't reply with more than a quick whine of agreement, before she allowed her head to loll lazily back in the rockings of the car. There was an explosion nearby, and the two passengers could only assume that the heavy artillery had been out to use.
Without further warning, the car lit up from the flash of a hit from the outside. It rocked violentlty, and the windows on Angel's side burst open, the glass sprinkling like dust over the occupants, and the car tipping dangerously to one side. It fell with a great thud, back to it's upright position, and concluded it's death with the Queen's door coming loose at the hinges.

She stepped outside, wrestling the glove onto her still somewhat-sticky right hand, and looked in the direction of the blast. As she thought, a line of three or four tanks rolled down their street. Soldiers immediately rushed forth and began unloading petty vengeance upon the machines, to little avail.
Emilia sneered and turned back, Angel rushing to her side. Soldiers surrounded her and led her off, the sound of gunfire gradually filling their ears like that of rain.

A smudge on the horizon marked the nearing of the Harvery - the Empire's newest landship, and also it's biggest.
'Trust me,' Vendarn had said, 'The battle will be over before you even arrive, my Queen.'
"You know, I hate liars." Emilia spurted as she spied the ship on its advance.
Angel sneered, "The worst of sinners."
Asfare was sure they'd been blessed with a miracle, even as the shadow of the ship cast down across the walls as it approached their head city.
A ship capable of exacting the wrath of the entire Empire - and adorned as such with the flag of every dominion - was not to be mocked.
That being said, none inside the Castle could say they expected what came next:

The patterings of exploding shells, the little play of lights on the balcony and the eventual cold and cruel twist of structure as the Queen and her son rose to the window, and spied the tallest of their city's wall towers buckling and crumbling against a burning sea of orange and black.
In the distance, past the walls that protected the very heart of their city, the rest beyond was engulfed in flame. Fires were the only horizon, with a single, collossal black structure in the center - the Harvery herself - being the exception.
The King simply laughed, for he knew their time had come. He left the room without further exclamation, leaving the two to gawk alone. The city would be gone, just like that. Now all the remained was the very heart - and the message was clear: if they continued to resist, so the world was resist their existance.

---

Emilia held onto her hat as the hot wind of the explosions past the wall behind her shuddered into the air. Her hair tickled at her neck as it swam with this breeze, and the air stained blacker than before.
Soon enough, the sky above was hardly visible. The shadows of the ash and smog in the sky covered the land, shrouding it as if night, and now and then breaking into the occasional daytime.
"Sorry about that," Vendarn announced, appearing to the side of the Queen.
She offered no response, which itself was a display of annoyance.
"Shall we move on?"

---

The Castle was now a flurry, with screams and messages thrown to and fro.
The Queen could conceal her tears, as could Verith - but many, many others could not. There was hardly any choice in the matter. Surrender was their only option.
Danielle bid Verith wait by the balcony, she herself running to her chambers to seek her husband's decision.
She pushed past unruly servants and soldiers, and clicked open her door in a maddened frenzy.
She opened her mouth to speak, yet instead recieved a mouthful of a horrid stench - that of blood - which stagnated the room.
She didn't even have to examine the body lying upon the bed - it was her husband, and she couldn't conceal tears this time. She yelped with guilt, and turned from the room.
The Head of the Royal Guard leapt forward and caught eye of the room himself. Blood was splashed upon the walls, the carpet, and in pools on the floor - not to mention the the stuff on the bed, and the body to boot.
"Hush!" The Queen demanded, "Don't announce it yet..! He killed himself, he must have - he was sure he'd die worse if he didn't."
In saying this, she pried herself from his arms and realised her position now as the most Senior of the Family. She rushed to the nearest servant and demanded that the white flag be flown.

And with struggling fingers, the flag was tied, and the single servant stood high upon the balcony, announcing the defeat of the great kingdom.

[Frost]

"More tea, Empress?" Alistar asked as Blight took the plate with the remains of shortbread, truffles and an empty teacup.
Shelrair delicately swept the crumbs off of her lips with a napkin.
"Oh my, no, if anything you should have asked for me to have less, if I keep having morning tea like this every day then I'm afraid I might burst!" Shelrair replied with a chuckle.
The demon children giggled, a chore that they had to become accustomed to upon serving her.
"Any news from Emilia yet? Or Asmoday?" Shelrair asked.
"We recieved transmissions from both, their fronts have been secured," Alistar told her.
"And the countries themselves?" Shelrair asked again, this time slightly more interested.
"Secured," Blight replied.
Shelrair stepped off of her throne and twiddled her fingers playfully, "Excellent! Yet no news on Jezebel's front?"
The children shook their heads simultaneously from left to right.
The Empress walked over to a large glass door that led to a newly-constructed balcony that oversaw all of Gardaine. She opened the doors and stepped out, feeling the rush of a cool morning's wind.
She looked over her city with pride, the dense farmland surrounding the outer wall, the man-made rivers that run through the middle, and the silver-coloured rooftops of the homes below her. She reconised the great steeple atop the Great Temple to her left, and the bustling marketplaces to her right, all of which, she controlled.
Alistar and Blight stood beside her.
"Smoke."
Shelrair smiled at the one word spoken by Blight, "From the train, they're doing some more tests today."
She took the hands of both of her little servants and watched as their country progressed. Further than their eyes could see.

[Farrelei]

They did as asked and remained perfectly still - the woman as the head of their enemy in front of them, and yet the same woman they were now sworn to protect as a guest of the Family.
Her own men followed behind her. Their mere presence was a sign of victory and scorn to the Asfarians there - if not, the burning city behind the windows.

After the fighting stopped and the orders were issued, the horror inside the Castle was masked with a sense of formality, as if housing any other foreign representative.
"The Queen of Gardaine, Your Majesties" announced the messenger, as per normal, adding, "who will also representing the Empress of Immestrial; accompanied by High Officer Vendarn of the Imperial Army."
Danielle and Verith stood, bowing courteously to the visitors as they entered. Vendarn bowed back, as was custom. Emilia simply sat on one of the two identical chairs laid out before them.
"Yes, please be seated," Danielle offered, as she and her son heeded.
"Queen Danielle," Emilia began, "Where, may I ask, is your husband?"
The Asfarian Queen's heart twisted. Word of the King's death was still hushed - not even Verith knew.
Emilia continued, "I'd like to speak directly to the Senior."
"Well, you're speaking to her. For all means and purposes, Queen Emilia, I am the presently acting Senior of the Royal Family."
Verith grew slightly alarmed at this, for he actually hadn't questioned his father's absence until now. Emilia herself caught the gist of what had happened, though, and smirked gently to herself for a moment, before continuing:
"It's such a shame, you know. This war was not needed. Lives have been lost that needn't have been."
Danielle swallowed, "...You're right. We have been foolish."
"So much so; so many people have died. It was illogical to strike first at an Empire without asking their assistance."
Verith coughed. Emilia eyed him quickly,
"Who may this be? The Prince?"
Danielle nodded, "Aye. This is my son, Crown Prince Verith."
Emilia regarded him for a moment, "..Have you something to tell me, Crown Prince?"
"...In my opinion, attacking was our last resort. We'd have less opportunity to be victorious had we alerted you to our status before attacking. But the best flag flies, and it's true: You have won."
"You reek of vanity. Had you asked our assistance, an invitation to affiliate yourselves with Immestrial would have arisen. Had that invitation been accepted, no lives would ever have been lost. The reason you chose not to walk down that path was to keep your snobby little asses on the thrones of this pathetic little kingdom. And now look where you are."
The Asfarian Royalty said nothing in reply.
Eventually, Vendarn handed a slip of paper to the Gardainian Queen, who laid it out on the table before them and offered Danielle a quill.
"This is a Treaty. The conditions of your surrender leave your terriotories Dominion to the Empire. As Royalty of Asfare, I, on behalf of the Empress, shall grant you viceregal eminence over this region. You can retain your title, but work under the Sovereignty of Immestrial."
Danielle lifted the quill with a shaky hand. Silently, she signed the document.
Emilia smiled. Verith, perched on his seat, felt the tension to be suffocating.
"As a symbol of your dedication to Her Majesty," Emilia continued, "you shall be required to pay Tribute in bi-annual installments."
"But we need your help!" Verith burst.
"There's not much city left to demand those kind of resources now, Prince." Vendarn scorned.
"Ah, yes," Emilia added crisply, "And to make sure you honour this Treaty, I'll be taking a deposit when I leave this afternoon."
"A deposit?" Repeated the Queen.
Emilia gently placed a hand upon the Prince's. Once he realised what she meant, he violently jerked back. Her nails tore in, first. As his blood leaked upon the desk, Danielle demanded he stop.
Emilia stood, "He has fight in him. Don't fret, Queen. He'll make a fine soldier back in Gardaine."

[Frost]

Millions had gathered in Jewel Square, bricked with white stones and centered by an enormous water feature. Standing in this water feature was a stone statue of a beautiful woman who's eyes saught the skies. The Empress. The masterpiece of architecture stood proudly in front of the Palace.
The Empress herself sat on a large silver armchair that was situated on a large podium.
Not one mouth spoke, not one eye uncasted themselves from the clear blue sky above them.
Slowly, a whirring sound was gradually getting louder and louder, echoing around them.
Shelrair nodded to a large orchestra that sat behind her, and as the music began to play, so did the return of Asmoday's fleet.
Everyone cheered and roared as thousands of airships flew over them like an everlasting swarm of bees, each one with the Gardaine Flag above them.
Shelrair herself was filled with excitement and was tempted to jump up from her seat and scream and hoot, but she overcame the urge and continued to sit their smiling and clapping delicately.
The airships would eventually land in an underground hangar bay inside the middle sector of the country-sized citadel, but for now, they continued to fly by in a triumphant display of twirls and trumpets.

[Farrelei]

Gradually, gradually the shadows and the choke of smoke whispered away around them, and they entered into the afternoon light.
The roar of vehicles they'd never even seen filled the ears of the children huddled upon them as they rode away from the ghostly city. Verith turned his head and stared back at his home, but the Castle wasn't even visible behind the black smoke that swirled around Ranra, alienating it from the rest of the world and leaving it in a realm of despair.
To his right, a boy stared absently at the floor of the roofless truck that held them - never looking up, never moving. Every now and then, the whine of a crying ward burst forth into the chorus that already was, but somewhere to the front, Verith heard some chatting as if this were normal.
He really didn't have a clue. He had never lived among these kinds of people before, especially not those of his age.
As he looked to the sky, now free from the smokey clutches tainting it in his old home, Verith knew, They aren't my people anymore. I'm the people. I was always one of them, but now I've been freed.

---

Four months earlier[/u]

Fanfare was in the air: crashes of cymbals with the music and crashes of plates in the busiest of cafes; the district was alive, and a rare sight it was! The District was one of the least-populated parts of Hangyakunin, as it was outside the metropolis that was the Ancient Capital, but today it burst with vigour.
People pushed and shoved to make to the front of the mammoth crowds on either side of Imperial Street, a giant expanse that led to the nation's largest Military and Research Base.
Now, she didn't really care where she were to stand, but surged by the throng, she moved forward with it, and, finding herself a large enough gap, she leapt into place quite near the fence that blocked the people from the main Street itself.
"Ow! Mummy!"
Rosa Torquil noted the girl beside her. Apparantly, she hadn't seen her, and barged into her in the madness of the crowd. The balloon she was holding in her hand freed itself as she wept, and joined many others littering the skies. The mother of the child had quite a few words to say about this, to Rosa's great vexation. Thankfully, the blasts of the trumpets bid her shut her gob, and the screaming of the crowd diminished to a buzz.

The host of the occasion began to speak, and many honed in on his tongue, on the verge of this historic moment.
Rosa couldn't listen, however: Her attention was focused on the huge, metal gate far to her left, and behind the speaker himself. It was taller than even the Palace walls, and it's own walls even taller yet. She'd been here before. Well, maybe not her. But it felt familiar. Maybe I've been here in a past life.
Applause interrupted her thinking, and she took note as the host stepped down, and another man took his place: High Commissioner Alphonse Merentte, on behalf of the Empress herself.
"I give to you... The grandest ship - on both land, sea... And perhaps even surpassing the Ashrose, in all it's beauty, in air - on behalf of the Empress of our most-grand Immestrial, and of the proud Dominion of Handyakunin herself, I present, in the name of the Empress that forged this new era - Her Majesty's Landship Harvery."

Her eyes trained yet again on the gate as it opened, ever-so-slowly pulling back to reveal that which the crowd was most anticipating. The orchestra jumped to life once more as the beauty of the biggest ship ever recorded in history commenced her maiden voyage. The landship roared to life, and slowly but surely left the complex and majestically onto the Street. It was adorned with the flag of every nation in the Empire - with a group of children and their fathers parading beside the ship in the dress of their countries' military.
Rosa murmured something inaudible and watched as it moved out of site.
What a waste of time.

---

Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Eleanore Harvery.
But please, call me: Rosa Torquil.
My age: 35 - though I hardly see how it's of any importance.
My faith: I have none - though I do believe quite seriously in Fate, and if a god controls that fate, then so be it: There's a god. I'd consider myself Agnostic, I suppose.
I live: Sometimes in my bar, sometimes in the apartment I own by the local library. Both are quite a fitting residence for a bitch.
My story: How utterly rude. I despise those who pry where their nose shan't belong, and yours belongs elsewhere. All you need know that I tend to my bar (the Abdicate). I have my acquintances, and you have yours. That is all.
You see: A woman, but don't let that get to your head. I've only one arm - the other was involved in a nasty accident - I've long, brown hair and olive eyes, and look my age or perhaps even older.
I like:

• The tales of customers.
  
• Booze.
  
• As much as I hate to admit it, Politics.

But hate:

• Politics.
  
• Certain people.
  
• The rain.

Oh, and: I'm quick with a gun, so don't get any ideas.
Roleplays: Search for the Skies, The Price of Peace, Red Sea.

[Frost]

The enormous waves of Ilridge collided with the cliff walls, thick sprays of sea water fell upon those closeby, but this was not an uncommon occurence.
A large fishing boat braved these seas, driven by just 2 people, a young boy and a middle-aged man who both were returning home with a boat filled with hundreds of fish, the best fish in the World.
Another wave collided with the ship, the small crew held on tightly to the ropes on the floors as the ship lurched too far on its side, sending crates and nets into the sea and causing the ship to collide with the cliff face. They continued to hold on and forgot about their missing cargo as wave after wave pushed the ship into the cliff again and again.
The boy grunted as another wave whipped across his face.
The man swung over to him and held him close, protecting him from the waters.
Slowly, the wave's ferocity subsided as the sun rose, the ocean calmed and reduced itself to almost complete smoothness.
The two of them watched as the seas glistened with the morning's sunshine and smiled to each other, they have seen worse.

A small jetty appeared from one of the cliff's tunnels(the same tunnel that they hoped to enter), an old, withered woman steered it.
"Agnus! She's gone, this one has, we'll need your help getting our catches inside, we'll guide the ship back in, but the fish is whats most important here," The man asked Agnus.
Without waiting for an answer, the two of them tossed net after net into the tiny tugboat and with a gradual nod from Agnus, her boat retreated back into the tunnels that led to the city above.

That night, after they both dried themselves and ran the fishing shop all day, the boy and the man parted ways and walked to their own individual homes.
The Boy was greeted by an old dog that barked and ran around his feet as he entered his two-roomed house.
The Man was greeted with a sudden hug from his daughter.
The two embraced for a moment, until two white tigers, one quite large and ageing, the other small and youthful, came between the two of them.
"What did you bring in for dinner tonight, dear?" Savannah asked, tossing a few chopped parsleys into a large pan.
"Some fish, surprise surprise," Siberius replied, holding up 4 very large silver fish and placing them on the bench beside his wife.
Their house was small, upon entering there would only be four large chairs and a long wooden table in the front of the room, and a kitchen at the back, if it wasn't for Siberius' intervention. After a few years of living in this one-room house, Siberius dug into the floor and made a tunnel that led to two more rooms downstairs, made out of pure stone that, if it weren't for Siberius' abilities, would've taken centuries to create.

Siberius kissed Savannah on the cheek as she removed the heads and tails of the fish and removed the bones as well, placing the remainding body in with the parsley.
"Where is Nero?" Siberius asked as Savannah continued making her infamous fish stew.
"Downstairs, he has something to show you," Savannah told him.

He went down the ladder in the corner of the room, and arrived in the second part of his house.
Because there was no light there, Siberius made 'lanterns' of sorts, lit by his own aura, but of course, his two children did not know that, his powers, as well as his true self, remained secret to them as well as the rest of the World now.
The lanterns were not lit yet, but a deep blue shined around the walls of the room.
on closer inspection, they were cobwebs that shined a mystical colour, the entire room lit with a beautiful blue.
On a small bed sat a little boy, Siberius' son, he was facing away from his father, something glowing in his hands.
Siberius frowned and sat beside him, looking down at what he was holding.
A large, black spider, glowing dark blue, sat in the boy's hands, the same blue web covered his hands.

"...I don't know how it happened...I found him this morning...I didn't mean to make all this mess..." Nero quietly told his father.
Siberius smiled and embraced the boy, "It's beautiful, Nero, you can keep him if you'd like."
Nero smiled and looked up toward him, "You mean it?"
Siberius nodded, "They have names, you know."
Nero nodded back, "I know, he told me."
"So what's his name?" Asked Siberius.
"Aol."
Savannah's voice echoed down to them, calling them for dinner.
"Bring Aol up, I'm sure everyone would love to meet him," Siberius told Nero.
Nero nodded and came upstairs with his father, Aol sat on his head.
Four bowls of fish stew were on the table, as well as two bowls of fish heads and tails on the floor beside it.
Hope and Savannah sat around the table, looking up at Nero.
"What's that?" Hope asked.
"Aol. A spider."
Savannah looked up at Siberius, who looked back toward Savannah and nodded his head.
Savannah sighed, "Good, it can put up webs on the windows and stop the flies getting in, now sit, you two, before dinner gets cold."

[Farrelei]

((Don't forget their profiles!
I smiled through that entire post. I love their house xD))

It was raining. Red fell from the sky - blood or water, and the people stared, wide-eyed at each other, like animals: newly awoken and curious.
She felt like running, but she didn't know what from, and she didn't know why, and in the end, she just stopped. Flat down on the ground.
She had fallen. The world had fallen. The ground, despite the rain, wasn't too damp. In fact, as she opened her eyes, she saw but a few drops. But it was warm.
And then she, herself, awoke.

Her hands were pressed against his back, slightly damp with sweat. She waited there a while. He slept.
Odd dream.
She pulled herself from his body and crawled out of the bed, flinging on a shirt and pants and pulling back the curtain.
It was morning outside. The sun was already up, which was odd because the two of them were usually awake by now.
The window was small, befitting the house. Clothes lay upon the floor (and not just last nights), and Rosa stepped to the dresser for a moment, examined her hair, shrugged, swiped something and left.
"The bar's closed today," she told herself, "Some national holiday or something."
She lit the cigarette between her lips, one of a pack Limsey left instead of cash for payment, took a deep breath, and exhaled. The smell was comforting. It calmed her, though she didn't know why.
"Not a cloud in the sky today," She crept down the stairs and left for the library.


She sighed and nipped the page a little. She'd been reading for about an hour and a half. The book was almost over, but she'd begun to skim the pages.
When she got to that stage, she stopped for a while.
"I still don't understand why you don't just borrow them?"
Rosa tipped her head back and let it rest upon the chest of the man behind her, the speaker.
"You came all this way to tell me that?"
"Well, that's what a library's for."
"Stalking people?"
"Borrowing books."
"Once I take it home, it'll never come back. We've discussed this," she got up and stroked the book cover with her fingers, walking over to the shelf and returning it to its place.
"Why are you really here?"
"I'm bored. Remind me again why we didn't open up today?"
Rosa sighed, "I just wanted a rest. It's open every other day."
He smiled and took off his hat, placing it upon her head playfully, revealing his short, dirty-blonde hair.
"Fine. Open it tonight, then, Rhys."
"It'll be fun!"
She chucked the hat in the small, empty bin by the library exit. What it was for, Rosa had no idea (neither food nor drink came in there, anyway), but it made a nice prop as she left, her love tagging along behind.




Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Rhys Vales.
My age: 33.
My faith: Audist? Ha'Vadaan? Who cares? It's all the same.
I live: With the not-so-lovely Rosa, in the room attached to the Abdicate, and work as bartender and manager there.
My story: I was born in a small town, Arriel, and spent my childhood there. My family fled after the Empire spread, seeking refuge in the mountains there. To be honest, I hated that life. Painting is my number one love, and I couldn't get much of that done on the farm way out there. So as soon as I could, I left, and spent my life travelling.
Around six years ago, I came here, and four of those years ago, I met Rosa, and we became good friends. Together we built The Abdicate, and though she'd never tell, she and I've spent a lot of 'friendly' nights together, if you catch my drift. I take every day as it comes.
You see: A diamond in the rough, fairly fit. Short, blonde hair and brown eyes. Nothing spectacular, but I wouldn't say I'm displeasing to look at, neither.
I like:

• Painting.
  
• Women.
  
• Travel.

But hate:

• Silence.
  
• Naivety.
  
• Cleaning.

Roleplays: Red Sea.

---

There was freedom in the air; an unspoken kindness about the day that drifted with her along the pathways.
Rhys didn't follow her from the library - Probably borrowing that book for me to prove a point or something.
She sighed and took another deep breath of the sweet air.
Something about the day is amazing...

She didn't want to return to her little bar just yet, but decided it best to take a pack of smokes with her so she didn't have to come back later (the building wasn't too far from where she was right then).
She took the door that opened to their room, the residential one, of course, strutted to the dresser, freed a stick from the packet and popped the rest in her pocket.
She lit, and took a breath...
And there was a noise in the distance. From the bar, she thought the sound of bottles.
She stood perfectly still, removed the smoking stick from her mouth and listened.
...Nothing.
Rats. Let's get a cat.

But there were footsteps. Heavy ones, unbefitting Rhys - who stepped lightly and always barefoot when not at work.
Has he started already? She doused the stick in an old glass of beer and disposed of it through the window, before edging closer to the wall.
The steps weren't precise. They were inquisitive; looking for something.
Her heart began to press her on; she glanced at the drawers of her dresser. Second.
She pulled it open softly and grasped at the gun, holding it close to her leg in case the 'intruder' really was just a careless lover.
She crept slowly and silently along the wall, opened the door to the hallway and neared that of the bar.
Quiet, again...
Time elapsed. She grasped the knob between the palm of her hand and the fingers holding the gun, then pushed slightly and backed away from the opening.
There was one step, then another.
Closer.

Then they hastened.
Rosa turned and ran through the hallway, into the bedroom and spun, pointing the gun to the doorway.
She thought back to her military days, timed it precisely and shot as he entered view.
There was a gasp as it hit, a little spray of blood, and a thud on the wall opposite her as he retraced his steps and slumped against it.
Her heart was racing now, the smell of smoke and gunpowder burning in her nostrils as she darted through the frame and pointed at the intruder.
Her heart was ready to sink on the sight of Rhys, but it wasn't he who stood there.
A sharp pain sprung from her jaw as his fist connected with face; the wrist stung as it were twisted back and the gun flung from its grip; and she entertained with a short scream as her spine collided with the doorframe and she fell helplessly to the ground below.
The man knelt beside her and pushed her arms apart, pinned to the wall.
Blood dripped from her mouth and stained her clothes. She remembered she'd shot him, too, and looked up at his face.
"...Fuck."
She struggled, "Get off me!"
"Eleanore!"
Rosa twitched. That voice...
"...Elle?"
"...Wrong house, perhaps?" She huffed, spitting blood and saliva at his face.
"Look at me!" He grasped her chin, shooting pain through her face once more, and pointed it at his.
She tore his grip away and stared him in the eye.

He was the start of it all.

[Farrelei]

((Added the other bit to my last post.
Also, I just realised that I accidentally called Rosa and Rhys' bar 'The Abstinate' instead of 'The Abdicate'. xD
Abstinate means to not have sex (like nuns take absintnance vows), which was not the intended name >.>
Abdicate means to step down from or give up something, symbolising Rosa/Eleanore's stepping from her previous life down into the new. It's also the technical term for a monarch handing over their rulership.

Just thought I'd clear that up >w>

upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fb/Edward_abdication.png demon noise.))

[Frost]

((LOL yeah I didn't know whether that was the actual name or not, so i didn't said anything, seeming as it was Eleanore))

b]Creator:[/b] Frost
My name:Siberius Feyanrer.
But please, call me: 'Sib
My age:35
My faith: Aura exists in all things, living and not, and I believe this World, this universe, began as nothing but aura that slowly formed our planet and the beings that dwell within it(and under it), and some people are able to connect with this energy and harness it freely. When we die, I believe we return as aura, and form new matter entirely.
I live: In Ilridge, a quiet, lively town built above a raging ocean. My home sits on the edge, overlooking the seas. I'm eternally grateful just for that. I work as a fisherman all day, father by night, I own a fishing shop called Sib's Fish, the 'Best Fish in the World'.
My story:...Which one? I am a man of many tales. My most recent being the story of my wife and I fleeing Gardaine for our lives. We changed identities several times, stayed in many cities across the country and finally, we came across the town of Ilridge, who welcomed us with open arms and smiles. They didn't ask questions or stared. They were humble, accepting and we have lived there for nearly 17 years now.
You see:Tanned and poreless skin, a sturdy body and thick dark locks. Courtesy of the sun and seawater. Slight stubble.
i268.photobucket.com/albums/jj8/Pyreflies-/1277801730415.jpg
I like:

• Walks on the beach.
  
• My family, I'd do anything for them.
  
• Cuddling up to Savannah after a long day of work..

But hate:

• Trickery, Devilry, any wickedness.
  
• The recurring smell of fish.
  
• Politics.

Roleplays: Forging of the Words, Search for the Skies, The Price of Peace, Red Sea.


Creator: Frost
My name:Hope Feyanrer
My age:16.
My faith: I have never really thought about it...
I live:In Ilridge, the smelliest town in existence, but, it's okay, I have friends and a home, so I'm thankful for what I have.
My story: I've grown up here since I was little, apparently I was born somewhere else, but mum and dad go all quiet when I ask questions about that sort of stuff. Right now I'm being taught by my Mum during the day with my little brother, sometimes I go out with Marvelene and some others at nighttime, on festivals and things like that...
You see: Spitting image of my mother, according to everyone.
i686.photobucket.com/albums/vv228/SweetHeartBreak/anime%20brown/Red-1.jpg
I like:

• The warmth and comfort of my beautiful pet, Kindle.
  
• Being with my friends, whenever possible.
  
• When Dad gets home with something to eat other than fish. Such as the occassional lobster or squid.

But hate:

• Dirt, gosh it's irritating.
  
• Bad people.
  
• Secrets. And I know there is a tonne of them in my family.

Oh, and:I have always wanted to travel. Hord, my Dad's Seafarer Assistant(who I really like...) sometimes goes and sees his grandparents in some other town in the East, I've asked Mum if I could go with him one time, but she refused.
Roleplays: Red Sea.

[Frost]

Creator:Frost
My name:Savannah Feyanrer
But please, call me:Sib's Sweetheart. It's a...local nickname.
My age:39. I look 20 though. The sea does wonderful things.
My faith:I don't necessarily believe in anything at the moment, I live for now and I'll worry about the future when my time is almost up.
I live:In Ilridge, in a small stone cottage. I'm a mother as an occupation, it certainly is an enjoyable one. I have been blessed with two beautiful children. Nero is so quiet and peaceful, and Hope is quite happy and lively, so there's a good balance.
My story:...For 3 years my Husband and I were on the run from everyone from police to armies, we escaped, with a baby. It wasn't too hard on me, except for those childbearing months, but...It's my husband who really suffered. Every night he rolls around in our bed, muttering, sometimes screaming. He's never had a peaceful sleep in 16 years. But I hope that one day the nightmares will end.
You see: a10.idata.over-blog.com/300x225/1/68/18/84/Mangas/trisha.jpg
I like:

• My children, they mean the World to me.
  
• Sleeping.
  
• Reading.

But hate:

• Cooking. It's horrendous.
  
• Fish. You'd think by now I'd have gotten used to it.
  
• Politics.

Roleplays:Search for the Skies, The Price of Peace, Red Sea.

[Frost]

Asmoday stepped down from his airship and was greeted warmly by Shelrair with an embracing hug.
"I missed you," Shelrair whispered into his ear.
"It's only been a few months, Empress."
Shelrair let go of Asmoday and the two began walking to the Palace.
"I suppose, still, you are one of few that I can actually trust. Politicians are liars, Citizens are beggars, and Alistar and Blight? They are the most boring children I have ever met."
Asmoday smiled slightly.
"When will Emilia and Jezebel return?"
"I'm not sure, within the next few hours, possibly tomorrow."

---

Jezebel swung her large sword forwards and backwards, upwards and downwards as countless Thurguals ran toward her.
She sliced through several at once, before stabbing the sword into the ground, causing the rocks beneath her to shatter and fly in all directions, knocking them all to the ground.
More were approaching quickly, in the cold cave of Terruk, birthplace or the Thurgual race and the last of their fortresses.
It stood in a giant mountain, a single mountain on a small island that reeks of blood and rust.
Almost the entire battalion was dead, except for a small group of them that stood cornered and outnumbered.
Jezebel cut through several more, before taking out a handgun-like device and firing it into the air, causing fire to erupt from it and create a trail of smoke that lingered into the air outside.
After a few seconds of rest, she sprung back into action, sprinting over to the surrounded troops and killing two thurguals within the second.

The ground shook and rumbled.
The roof above them cracked.
Jezebel backed the soldiers into a corner and held her sword in front of her, covering her face with it.
Suddenly, the roof collapsed, and huge blocks of bricks were blasted throughout the caves.
Diabora was here.

A single figure fell to the ground, landing solidly on his legs.
Aura burned in his crippled hands, his face hardly visible, but glowing blue veins covered his body
He was more cursed than others.
Hordes of Thurguals were rapidly approaching, screaming and squealing to unnerve the remaining soldiers.
Diabora held out his arm and pointed it toward them, gathering aura into his fingertips, and with one slow push, the energy exploded through his hand.
The aura was shaped as a small oval, but upon impact with the creatures, erupted and flung hundreds of Thurguals into the air and smashing them to the ground with a dazzling light.

Another explosion shook the cave, and then another.
"They're setting off explosives. They're trying to take us down with them," Jezebel calmly spoke.
The troops behind her screamed as another explosion occured.
"Let's go, Diabora."
Diabora picked up Jezebel and swung her over his shoulders, before sprinting away and abandoning the remaining soldiers, leaving them to be buried alive.

He ran as fast as he could, dodging fallen boulders and cracks in the ground beneath them.
They could see the entrance to the cave once more.
As they continued running, the entire roof caved in, blocking the only exit to the cave.
"Put your head down," Diabora spoke. His voice very low pitched.
Jezebel buried her head into Diabora's cloak.
Diabora jumped into the air, aura surrounded his body as he blasted through the rock and out onto safe ground. A beach who's sand is dark grey and waters dark green.

Diabora lay on the sand, breathing deeply. Jezebel watched.
His cloak was destroyed, revealing deep scars and cracks all over his body.
"I am more cursed than others, Jezebel," Diabora told her.
"We are not the cursed ones."
The mountain behind them shattered a final time as it fell to the ground.

The Thurgual race was extinct.

[Farrelei]

"Is that them, Daddy?"
A cheer broke out from the crowd gathered by the outskirts of Hangyakunin, eager to welcome home their heroes.
The first car to be seen was the Queen's, though not the one she left in (that was lost in the battle). In an array to the sides and behind were the army, with the Harvery in the center - beacon of the Hangyan Forces.
Emilia nestled her chin into her hand, staring nonchalantly as they passed the city buildings.
Angel smiled, "What's the matter? You don't like very Queeney like that, you know."
Emilia shrugged slightly with one shoulder, "I didn't ask for this position."
"You accepted it."
"I also accepted you as a charge. Don't make me regret that choice."
Angel hesitated, then slumped back into her seat, beaten.

---

"What are you doing?" She hissed,
"My job," he replied, sliding his hands over her body, searching her with amazement.
"Don't touch me!" Rosa cried, slapping him and tearing herself from his body. This time, he didn't fight back.
"Eleanore... Rosa..."
"Glad you got my name right at last," she sighed, leaning herself against the wall and putting a hand to her mouth to test the bleeding.
The man ignored the former, "They asked me to... Find you."
"They?" Rosa scoffed, "So you're the Empire's new dog, then?"
"Not the Empire."
"Then who!?"

The two of them basked in the silence.
Rosa stroked the wood on the walls and the man opposite held his head low, but always kept his eyes on her, studying her very being.
Eventually, she let her hand drop, raised her eyes and met his,
"Bowen, listen. I forgot about you. Everything... It all left me - Fate left me; I started anew..."
Slowly, he crept forward, eyes lingering about her, "I know. If I'd had known that you..."
Rosa let him get closer, and flicked her eyes upward, "You're right. It's not your fault... Yet."
Bowen put his hands on her shoulders and tightened his grip.
They were just the way he remembered them. Her body had grown, her face had changed in certain places, but her shoulders were the same. And so were her eyes...
She took his hand in hers and lowered his arm, "Go."
"I can't do that," Bowen replied, stepping closer yet again,
"Why? You're scum! Stand up for yourself!"
"I have a job to complete, Elle. You're coming back with me."
"To where? To whom!? Fuck you, Bowen..! You come crawling back after - what - fifteen years? - after I thought you dead, having gone back to Gardaine like the stubborn animal you always were, and now you're alive, expecting me to just accept that and follow you into Ngya knows where!?"
Bowen touched her, but she flung him off and raced out the door, through her room and out onto the streets beyond.

The crowd hustled by, people laughing and cheering, racing past. One boy almost knocked her down, her heart began to race faster as she searched through the throng. Amidst all the chaos, Rosa saw, in front of her, a car adorned with the Imperial insignia, guards tagging on behind and a woman staring out at her from inside the vehicle, a slight frown upon her lips, but only for a second.
That...
"Did you see!?" A boy rushed up to her, tugging at her arm, "Did you see!? The Queen!"
Rosa thrust him off and he rejoined the surge of the crowd.
Rosa heard her name called from behind. Her old name. She threw herself to the throng and through the crowd, disguising herself among those around.

The palace gates were open, and guards stood ready at their posts as some of the official cars rolled up. The driver alighted, and opened the door for Angel and Emilia to join him. There were cheers and yells as they stepped out, but Emilia paid the people no notice and headed in through the gates.
The Palace of Hangyakunin was often called the 'Suspended' or 'Flying' palace, both because the main building was suspended in the air by stone masts, and also because it was the birthplace of the first two Imperial Airships. Over the past ten years, the entrance to the palace was reformed, and rather then walking a ramp to the front doors, a stone path was built. It circled the palace once, rising as you went, and was joined at certain intervals for both the ground and the Palace floor. The path ended at the entrance to the building.
Despite this newly-built path, plans were also underway for a simple staircase to be built, as the elderly found the walk rather vexing.
As Emilia neared the entrance of the Palace, she leaned over to admire the work below. What was once the birthplace of both the Phoenix and the Ashrose - in all their glory - was now a beautifully-decorated chasm; a walk of sorts, and this was opened to the public three-quarters of the year: a historical and cultural masterpiece.
"Your Majesty,"
She turned her head and met the eyes of the boy in front,
"His Excellency the Governor-General of Hangyakunin awaits in the foyer."
Emilia followed him to meet her host - a smallish, aged man; bespectacled and wise. He had been Governor-General of Hangyakunin since before Shelrair's reign had begun, and he remained dearly loyal to the Empire in all his acts of life.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Nicholas," she spoke coolly as she entered his presence,
"Evening, moreso, Your Majesty. And to you, too, my dear. Are you well?"
"Well enough to survive the walk to your door, Governor-General."
He smiled, "Ah, yes. That will be rectified soon, I assure you. Well, come. Your rooms have been readied, and arrangements have been made for your departure tomorrow morning."
"Thank you."
"Will you be dining with us tonight?"
Emilia pretended to give it some thought, "I shall be fine without tonight, thank you."
He smiled his old, cracked smile, "I thought you'd say that. Well, Your Majesty, if you'd follow this young lad, here. I'll make sure to see you off before you leave tomorrow."

Her rooms were spacious - the same as always. They were always reserved for her alone, but they never felt hers.
It was always foreign. As is Vadaa.
She pulled the hat from her head, stroked it, and returned it to the desk to her side. She walked to the window and gazed a moment at her reflection - what she could see of it in the glass.
These, my eyes. That's all that's mine. This body, foreign. My voice, foreign. Everything is foreign. She pressed the glass of prepared waer to her lips. It was warm.
Everything, so foreign, but home's too far to run.

---

Verith rubbed his eyes and pulled himself upright. They were sore from the dust that flew about the transports earlier, as they tore across the desert.
Now, as they entered the city, he grew slightly anxious at the number of cheering people around him. There weren't that many people in Asfare, he was certain. They were celebrating, cheering as though he and the children around him were soldiers, but he didn't think they were. Yet.
After they paraded through the streets, it seemed they reached their destination with any introduction. A gate was drawn back, and the first of the trucks passed through. There was a guard at each end of the gate, guns at the ready. One kid on his truck tried to jump, but one of the older kids pulled him down and screamed something inaudible at him. Finally, the hum of their transport stopped, and the journey was over.

The children were tossed into a large training hall. They weren't given any orders, any food, anything at all. The doors were just locked, and they were left there in the cold. Verith sat by himself all night. He was approached by a girl from the older group, who invited him to sit with them. He did so, but contributed nothing much else.
"What's your name, kid?" Asked the one they called Harriet.
He simply shrugged, "It doesn't matter right now, does it?"
He was tired, and more than a little confused. But the two feelings meshed together, and all felt a dream.
Soon enough, he was in one. And for a while, he was back on that transport, watching the world fly past him as they sped through the emptiness of the land.
It was strangely peaceful.

---

The ground beneath her naked feet was a myriad of colours: Leaves adorned with the golden light from the gaps in the canopy above, or left gracefully in shadow, wet and moist under her toes.
The village center was always noisy, but not in a particularly uncomfortable way. Mothers sang the songs their mothers sang to their babes; the echoes of the song of a woodwind falling about them in harmony. The chatter of the people was typically quite hush, and the squelch and crunch of leaves beneath their feet was somewhat pleasing, as was the swimming of the wind through the trees that gave them.
Probably the most noisy was the audience of children seated by the well where Brelair with the hazel eyes (and hair to match) invented tales that always astounded the little ones whenever she chose to speak them. Sure, she was a little out of it, but that was probably why they liked her in the first place.

Inside, the smell of old oak blurred with that of books past and new, and the occasional fragrance of cocoa as it crept through the air.
The young man with the long, dark hair sat perched and pored over his latest find: One of the many fictions he'd plucked from the shelves that spread along every wall.
Her creep was quiet; even so it aroused him from his readings, and he hastily folded a nip of paper to mark his place and closed the lid of the novel before meeting her eye.
Try as she may to peer at the title, he kept a hand upon the face, obscuring it from her. Surrendering, she beckoned him forth wordlessly and left the room.
Sighing, he took the hand he used to absentmindedly stroke his ponytail and bundled the books into a brown, hempen bag, stowing it in a particularly untidy corner before heading off after her.


The two of them traversed the village lightly, soaking up the atmosphere and neither saying a word.
Rewan, the girl, stopped suddenly, the follower doing so as well. She hesitated, then turned off the path, pushing a branch aside and scaling a small wall to get down to the path below - a kind of shortcut.
The young man frowned, but followed her lead.

Eventually, she found the people she was looking for. She looked back at the man behind her and then nodded in the direction of those waiting.
"Sire," one began, "There's another convoy on the horizon."
"How many?" Asked the man calmly.
"Three or four."
He sighed, "This can't be good. We can't let things go as they did last time. Have you contacted Headquarters?"
Rewan placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded.
The bearded man in front of him opened his mouth once more, stagnating the air with his foul breath, "What shall we do, then?"
Kyou hesitated, "...Invite them here. We'll see what diplomacy does for us."
"I'll send for reinforcements."
"So be it, then."

---

Creator: Macca (Farrelei for RS).
My name: Bowen Kas'kov.
My age: 55.
My faith: I don't really know, nor care what to believe. What I do know is that no god will come and save us from ourselves; we have to win our own fights.
I live: With my wife and daughter on a property near the outskirts of the city of Hangyakunin. I'm an ally of justice and I fight to rectify the mistakes of the past. Immestrial has destroyed too many lives, including the one of the woman I once loved, and will continue to crush the weak unless we stop them before they get the chance.
My story: Is long and tedious. As a child, my town was 'cleaned out' by the Empire as an example to others, and probably rightly so - our town was one of the headquarters of the Rebellion at the time. My older brother Recko cared for me, and he and I escaped with members of the Rebellion, who brought us up and trained us as soldiers for their cause.
My brother and I split ways and formed two different causes. Over time we gathered support enough to form the Kas'kov Alliance. We succeeded in our fight, and for a short time, brought peace back to the Empire. I fell in love with future Empress Eleanore, but it wasn't to last. If you read the history books, they'll tell you most what happened since then...
...I tried to return to Gardaine after the 'incident', to set things straight and hopefully show Eleanore - or should I say Rosa - the way things could be. Unfortunately, she was right. There were numerous attempts at my life, and it was a miracle I ever escaped. I spent some years in a small town before following my heart to Hangyakunin to find Elle once again.
It was here I met my wife, and discovered the Resistance, whom I've been faithful to since the day I joined.
I've not seen my brother since I left Gardaine sixteen years ago. I can only hope for the best for him now, but sometimes my mind wanders... Wherever he is, I wish him well.
You see: A middle-aged man, cheery and positive. I used to be a fan of the razor; now I can go months without shaving. Cheryl prefers a bit of a beard, anyway. I have golden-brown eyes and a lighter shade in my hair. I'm rather fit, and quite the looker if I do say so myself!
I like:

• My wife; she's amazing. My daughter Ellie too ((should this be her real name, or a nickname for Eleanore as her real name?)).
  
• A bit of action now and then.
  
• Justice.

But hate:

• The Empire. Now and forevermore.
  
• Politicians - liars and schemers, the lot.
  
• Bigotry.

Roleplays: Search for the Skies, The Price of Peace, Red Sea.



Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Rewan.
My age: 33.
My faith: To Serenfas.
I live: As the Head of Military Affairs for the Villages of Yensera.
My story: I was born into Serenfas. My parents were strict, and I hated them for this. I was denied attendance in children's games, and so I grew to hate those around me. Eventually, I ran away. I lived on the streets of Gardaine for five years, before being found and returned. My father had died. My mother and I hardly reunited. In fact, I don't know what has become of her, nor do I care.
Elder Lyvass brought me in. She cared for me as a true mother should. For this, I am quite grateful. I became a hunter to hone my skills and bring in fresh food for the Congregation. Once, wounded badly, a fellow hunter brought me to Gardaine, and again, Elder Lyvass nursed my wounds.
We grew quite close. I tasked myself with protecting her whenever possible.
After fleeing Gardaine with the remnants of Serenfas, I was one of those to build Yensera from the mud and the sticks into the collection of villages it is now. As part of the Organisation, I oversee the Congregation as best I can, particularly in the case of military affairs. I am also one of the Elder's Protectors, and one of the few admitted to their presence.
You see: Long, dirty red hair, tanned skin, green-gold eyes, and a fit woman.
I like:

• Music.
  
• Hunting.
  
• The world around me.

But hate:

• Unnecessary violence.
  
• Speaking.
  
• War.

Roleplays: The Price of Peace, Red Sea.


Creator: Farrelei.
My name: Kyou.
But please, call me: Sire.
My age: 31.
My faith: To Sera and the Congregation.
I live: As Sire-head of the Organisation of the Congregation of Serenfas.
My story: As far back as I can remember, there has been Serenfas. That, and my mother. I never knew my father. Nobody except she did. Some of the kids picked on me, as they decided my father was a simple nobody, that I was a 'half-blood', and that I would never hone my aura properly. I trained hard to disprove them.
Sometimes I wonder, though. My cerilie is not easily controlled, and throughout my life I've had violent fits, particularly in the last year before we fled Gardaine. After we left, this fits have become exceedingly rare. I don't particularly care, though. I and two other boys were chosen by the Elders as future candidates for Sirehood. I was the youngest; the other two were both older than I. Due to this, and the rumours of my murky blood, I didn't expect to be chosen. Fate moves in mysterious ways, however. In the end, it was down to one other - Vivian - and I. Vivian was twice my age. It was a shock to the entire Conregation when I was named as the successor to Sirehood.
I never saw Vivian after that.

After fleeing Gardaine, I helped establish Yensera, where I remain Sire for now.
You see: A young man looking vastly younger than he is. Some say I 'manipulated my aura' to flourish in youth; this is false. I have two grey eyes, my right occasionally turning a dull green. My hair is long, and pulled back into a braided ponytail most of the time.
I like:

• Coffee.
  
• Reading.
  
• Yensera.

But hate:

• The Empire.
  
• Cities.
  
• Wine.

Roleplays: The Price of Peace, Red Sea.