Chosen of the Ascended

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by GonzoB., Oct 4, 2014.

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    Welcome To Geleena...

    Home to Many Kingdoms, Both Terrible and Glorious...
    1: The Kingdom of Barrience, Realm of Emerald and Saphire
    Barrience is a large and prosperous realm located near the center of the continent. It's land consists of beautiful mountains, valleys and fertile pastures.

    Capitol: Callence
    The Palace at Callence Mountain, or simply Callence, is the seat of power of the Keirieg dynasty, ancestral rulers of Barrience. With vaulting, blood red rooves, beautifully flush arches and joints, and deep expanses delving to the center of the mountain, Callence truly is a marvel. It sits embedded in the center most peak and has tracts extending throughout the ones nearby, leading to pastures and townships carved into the mountainside.

    2: The Kingdom of Leoriene, Vassal to Barrience
    Capitol: Hellaie

    3: The Kingdom of Kerralakk, Allies to the Emerald
    Capitol: Tarrupell

    4: The Jerrell Empire, Terror of the West

    5: Effellerrenn, Land of three Lakes

    6: The Grand Duchy of Hev'lel, the Northern Peninsula

    7: The Fielel'karr Republic, the Realm on the Coast

    8: The Tribes of Hendil'karr, Realm of the Strong

    9: The Grand Principality of Gunnarr err' arr': Land of the Mountain's Shadow

    10: The Grand Duchy of Tellarr'karr, Realm of Land and Sea

    11: The Nor err' arr' Empire, Land of the Ridge
    Capitol: Craghold

    12: Bila, the Known South

    13: The Kingdom of Junnarr'karr, Realm of the Mountain Pass

    14: Jeull , Land of Pasture and Lake

    15: The Archipelago of Kellence, Land of Freedom

    16: Poloro, the Far South

    As Well As Many Strange and Wondrous Sapient Races...

    Humans: Humans were the first and only race created by Akash; all others simply being distortions thereof. They are by far the most populous, with almost every nation teeming with them. Humans receive no boosts or decreases to any stats.

    Centaur: The Centaur were one of the first groups of people to permanently transform themselves into entirely different creatures, capable of producing offspring with the same traits. +4 to Balance, and +2 to Toughness and Strength. +4 to Will and Martial. Cannot use Arcane Fonts.

    Ga'Rei: A large and now very widespread clan of men and women who's ancestors used the magic of the Font of Life to alter their bodies and abilities. They have bright white skin, pale blue hair, bright blue eyes, and stand 7'-8' tall. They are lithe and slender, generally, and possess an innate knack for dexterity and precision. They are also greatly inclined toward the panoply of magical arts, able to master them much more easily than the other races. +5 to Magical, Arcane, Balance and the Font of Life, but may only put a max of 3 points into Strength and Toughness. Cannot carry heavy equipment (a 100 pound backpack, for example), and cannot use heavy gear (greatswords, kite shields, etc).

    Tallencey: Descending from mages who specialized in Nature's Form, the Tallencey have an inherent talent for fire and water magics, able to control and produce them with ease. Even their hair is made of the elements, often switching from water to fire when angered or on the attack. The Tallencey and Ga' Rei have always been enemies and rivals, both emerging around the same time from lands in the northeast. A long series of wars over territory and resources turning into a feud handed down through the generations. Most Tallencey will not talk to Ga' Rei, and generally hold a deep seated disdain toward them. +5 to Magical and Arcane. + 7 to the Fonts of Fire and Water, but can only use Nature's Form.

    Golem: Golem are a race innately attuned to the earth, composed of various metals and stone. They have, over the centuries and generations, transformed their bodies with use of the Font of Soil, Stone and Steel. These beings are capable of the most incredible feats of that school, and are feared as some of the most innately proficient spellswords in the land, able to conjure incredible walls, giant spears, and even great metal or stone warriors to do their bidding, while their incredible bodies can take even the most stern punishment a battlefield can offer. Their most prominent weakness lies in their eating habits; a Golem must eat approximately 2 pounds of the material of which it is composed to stay healthy, and will starve if they cannot keep consumption up. This limits their range, for the most part, to their homeland of Nor err' arr', especially for those comprised of more precious metals or gems. Lastly, the fact that these beings sometimes are indeed walking fortunes leads to a very real risk of death by assassination, ambush or trap from those who might seek to murder and melt down and sell a man made of silver or gold. +8 to the font of Soil, Stone and Steel. +5 to Magic, Martial, Strength and Toughness. + 2 to Arcane Empowerment. Can only put a max of 4 points into Ballance. Can only use the Font of Soil, Stone and Steel. Cannot swim, and do not sail.

    Ogres: Ogres descend from a single man, Braugh the Bloody, born some three hundred years ago. He still lives today, strengthened and twisted by the divine magic of the Murderer. Braugh stands as one of the Murderers most feared champions, siring an entire clan of monstrous, gigantic, and bloodthirsty killers. Though not as grotesque or powerful as their patriarch, Ogres still stand at 8' and 11' feet tall, weigh an average of 600-700 pounds, have amazing muscle to fat ratios, and thick, thick skin. +10 to Strength and Toughness, but cannot use Arcane Fonts or Arcane Empowerment, and can put no more than 1 point into tactical. Must have special weapons and armor tailor made or adapted for their strangely shaped, humongous bodies.

    Floreine: The Floreine are men and women who have, over the generations, evolved into Human/plant hybrids through the utilization of the magic of the Font of Life. These creatures still have gained photosynthesis abilities, and so do not need to eat and/or drink the way other races do unless they are in an area without sunlight and/or rain. However, if a Florenie goes without sunlight or carbon dioxide for too long, their "skin" begins to wilt. This condition is known as flaccidation and can sometimes lead to death if not treated. Because of this condition, Florenie cannot wear any type of armor, or risk flaccidation forming underneath it. Tree-based Florenie, and some shrub-based ones, make up for this with skin made of bark. The more delicate of the Florenie must instead rely on their dexterity. +2 to the Font of Life. Often have a number of extra appendages (four armed Floreine are common, and so on). Cannot use any magic except for that of the Font of Life. Cannot use Arcane Empowerment. Weak to Darkness, Fire and Death Magic.

    "Tree" Floreine: +15 to Toughness and Strength but may only put a max of 3 points into Speed, and a max of 6 into Balance. The average mature Tree Floreine stands at 15 feet tall. Must have special weapons and armor tailor made or adapted for their strangely shaped, humongous bodies. Require regular water and sunshine. Will die within about 15 days if left in total darkness.

    "Vine" or "Flower" Floreine: +5 to Font of Life. +5 to Balance. May only put a max of 2 points into Toughness and Strength. Cannot carry heavy equipment (a 100 pound backpack, for example), and cannot use heavy gear (greatswords, kite shields, etc). Require constant watering. Go dormant without light, will die within about 5 days if left in shadow.

    a Land of Sundry Gods...

    The creator god and first entity, who's will dictated the divinity of the Ascended. He has created the world four times before, and has since adopted a very hands off form of governance:

    The Ascended and Their Champions
    The Ascended are a group of people who have risen beyond their humanity to fill one of the twenty seats of divine governance. The Ascended control events in Fleggis in an attempt to preserve a healthy balance in all things. While they are extremely powerful, they are still mortal, each one receiving exactly one hundred years of life from the point of ascension. They can also die violent deaths, with many Ascended throughout history having risen through the murder of their predecessor. Otherwise, an Ascended appoints a successor at the moment of death, unless they die while unaware, in which case the other 19 Ascended conviegn to decide. They are fond of further delegating this work to others, bestowing their Chosen with their "Gifts", granting their champions powerful abilities with which to carry out their will.

    The Commander: Bestows an aura of command and inspiration, as well as an enhanced military mind. Can be male or female, with the current one being male.

    The Soldier: Turns men into the mightiest of warriors at the cost of their minds and free-will; once bestowed the Soldier's Gift, a man is bound to his master and his master's goals, swearing so in an oath, and thereafter sacrificing his will until the day one of them dies. Those bestowed The Gift of The Soldier are granted immense power, usually being granted monstrously powerful enchanted armor and weapons, along with the greatest martial prowess one could hope for. Must be male.

    The Lady: Bestows otherworldly radiance, grace, beauty, poise and confidence, as well as fine silks, silver, gold, jewels and jeweled things, and even entire kingdoms to those she sees as excellent potential rulers. People with this gift often become rulers in their own right, as their mere voice is enough to make most swoon and submit, and their wealth is often enough to buy a kingdom outright. Must be female.

    The Wench: Matron of pleasure halls and prostitutes, The Wench watches over and protects both those who pay and those who are payed to have have a roll in the hay. Able to bestow amazing beauty and powers of seduction,
    The Wench is also, in ways, a female counterpart to The Fool, instilling lighthearted moods and atmosphere in places she thinks may require or deserve such levity. Must be female.

    The Murderer: Destroyer and ravager, The Murderer rules over the domain of prolific and grandiose murder and misdeed, bestowing his servants with horrendous powers ranging from the relatively mudane improved strength or explosive breath, to morphing them into grotesque, monstrous creatures. Can be male or female, with the current one being male.

    The Mariner: Bestows otherworldly clairvoyance regarding the sea to, and enchants the vessels of, great seafarers. Rarely female, with the current one being male.

    The Farmer: Sees that crops and livestock are tended to, helping those who lack in these areas and setting people on a right path concerning farm life and surrounding virtues. Also known to punish habitual animal and landscape abusers. Can be male or female, with the current one being male.

    The Pioneer: Much like the Farmer, but attuned to the frontiers and wildlife more than crops and livestock. Known to bestow gifts of the wilderness such as animal tongues, the power to shape-shift into animal forms, and a clairvoyance of the forest much like The Mariner's clairvoyance of the sea. Can be male or female, with the current one being male.

    The Innocent: Unnaturally lightens up situations and moods, and also grants this power to kindhearted people, which has prevented many disputes, and even wars. The Innocent is often a child. Can be male or female, with the current one being female.

    The Scoundrel: Grants abilities and spells that help while being stealthy and during the night. Can be male or female, with the current one being female. Floating, invisibility and concealment, enhanced climbing, jumping, agility and balance are all gifts freely granted by The Scoundrel.

    The Smith: Grants the greatest enchanted weapons and armor known to man, and sometimes even sees fit to increase the stamina, fortitude and will of those he grants his famous enchanted gifts to. Rarely female, with the current one being male

    The Hero/Heroine: Respects heroic martial action, and bestows a wide range of blessings to those he deems worthy. Matched in fighting prowess only by those granted the gift of The Soldier, and allowed their own freewill with which to power their resolve, the Gifted of The Hero are, perhaps, the most innately talented and unstoppably powerful warriors to ever exist. Rarely female, with the current one being male.

    The Shaman/Medicine Woman: Enchanted and continues to enchant different species of plants which, when combined in proper proportions, create alchemic reactions and compounds. Patrons naturalists and alchemists. Can be male or female, with the current one being a female.

    The Genius: Bestows miraculous super-natural tools, books and inventions on brilliant minds he favors in order to further their goals. Arcane books containing spell encoded riddles, puzzles that reveal world changing secrets, or even mechanical wings are all within the Genius' domain. Can be male or female, with the current one being a female.

    The Ruiner: Acts against all machinations of the other gods, except perhaps The Murderer who is by nature inclined to chaotic behavior, or the Scoundrel, Statesman, Merchant or Genius, who often patronize and assist rebels and other topplers of the status quo. Causes madness, plague, disease, drought, flood, decay and despair. Any person terrible enough to receive the "gifts" of The Ruiner are damned to a wretched existence as a walking embodiment of ruin, causing all around them to writhe and wither in terrible lamentation. The Ruiner long ago commissioned the Statesman to erase all memory of his/her past from the minds of every conscious thing on Fleggis, forsaking it's human form for an indestructible cloud of smoke. Speaks primarily in others minds using the voice of yet an other person. Can be male or female, with the sex of the current one unknown.

    The Mother: A healer and comforter who's gifted are great healers with the ability to heal ailments of the mind, body and heart. Those blessed by The Mother are able to heal wounds like they were smoothing over clay, and can sometimes even bring people back from the brink of death. Must be female

    The Fool: Bestows a jovial aura of comradery to kindhearted, boisterous drunks. The fool blesses his chosen with whimsical and unique items, usually involving music, drink, food or all three. Those he has gifted can bring great prosperity and happiness to those affected by their festivals, bringing much needed food and drink to poverty stricken areas, inducing progress and growth. The joy they bring also helps to avert strife, much like the innocent. Also represents a kind of "blue collar" wisdom. Must be male.

    The Statesman: The Statesman likes to manipulate eloquent chamber speakers and large governments into being larger and better in many ways, though is some times callous, merciless, and even a bit sadistic in the process. The Statesman often poisons the minds of certain politicians, sowing mistrust, paranoia, jealousy, and even murderous intent. The Gift of The Statesman often manifests in the form of a silver tongue, able to sway the hearts and minds of all but the most solid of constitution. Another for of the gift is to allow the gifted individual to plant images, thoughts, feelings or even memories in the minds of others, even large groups of people. Rarely female, with the current one being male.

    The Merchant: Coin master and hand of progress, the merchant pushes for expansion in most forms, and aids those who would see businesses, cities, technology, knowledge, and the human race in general, grow. At the same time, however, The Merchant seeks to cut dead weight and therefore destroys or aids in the destruction of certain large, stagnant states, usually by bestowing large sums of coin to opposing sources, though, since fire is key to progress in the human world, he also holds some domain over pyromancy. Can be male or female, with the current one being female.

    The Judge: God of recompense and the patron of judges, physicians, knights, councilmen, juries, constables, and executioners. The Judge values trust, honor, duty, loyalty, trustworthiness, dependability, keeping your word, honesty, justice, vengance, retribution, punishment, reward and compensation. The Judge is capable of miraculous and varied powers such as shape-shifting, teleportation, incorporeal forms with minor flight (ie. floating around as a spirit) and her touch can do many miraculous things, such as turn items into other materials or even shape-shift other living things (i.e. turn you into a frog, or enhance your size/strength) or even grant these abilities to others. Gives favor and grants powers to promise keepers and selfless, dependable individuals. Can be male or female, with the current one being female.

    a Land With War On the Horizon...
    Current Chapter:
    Chapter One: As a war brews in the west, the fertile midlands bordering Jerrel must prepare for the looming conflict.
    Chapter one will focus on locations 1(Barrience), 2(Leoriene) and 3(Kerralakk)

    In Barrience: A council meets to discuss the coming war; Tavorra is in attendance, as well as the near entirety of the ruling nobility. There is even a representative from a strange land, his liege concerned the conflict may spread to the east.

    In Leoriene: Defenses are being improved and fortified by the master architect Jeol Leveronnce. Leoriene will most certainly bear the brunt of the first throes of the war, and as such it's protector nation, Barrience, has commissioned Leveronnce to raise solid and expansive fortifications across the land bordering Jerrel and Leoriene, an area already littered with stronghold and fortress.

    And in Kerralakk: The hardnosed rulers of Kerralakk convene a council of their own. Though the Kingdom of Emerald and Sapphire has long been their ally, there is much disagreement concerning to the nature of the assistance they will provide, especially when it comes to front line assistance.

    and Most of All...
    a Land of Champions!

    Accepted Characters:

    1: Gyde Sarizar (Xylime)
    2: Yilvia Stalmont (Xylime)
    3: Nimrellye Alarel (J_"Kraken")
    4: Jamond Rayte (J_"Kraken")
    5: Draven Valkion (Nocturne997)
    6: Alaron Baird (LeoKasper)
    7: Jeol Leveronnce (GonzoB.)
    8: Tavora Melyncleif (GonzoB.)
    9: Jerro the Black (GonzoB.)
    10: Finasaer Garay (J_"Kraken")

    #1 GonzoB., Oct 4, 2014
    Last edited: Oct 23, 2014
  2. Herring Estate

    Rain tapped atop the carriage's roof, heavy and booming by comparison to the eerie silence of the road. By all normal means, the night would have been dim enough to see by, though on this night one could count it a stroke of luck to see but two or three meters out. Nimrellye was merely thankful that this road, unlike so many others, was at the very least paved lest the already tedious carriage ride turn into a wasted effort. Still, despite it being a cobbled road, the carriage's wheel had managed to catch itself upon a patch of mud that had crept onto the slick surface. Her patience was running thin.

    "We going to run through the plan 'gain?" Jamond questioned, running a finger through the loop of his belt in boredom.

    Nimrellye's glazed eyes flashed back to attention, voice halting in her throat for a moment. "What more is there to go through? Your role, as it always has been, is to obey. This is but the first touch, Jamond, let us not forget that. You will have your value later on."

    "Who pissed in your soup?" He retorted with a grunt, taking a glance outside the carriage door. "Nation on the brink of war and this man hosts a fuckin' ball..."

    Ignoring the stab aimed at her, Nimrellye glanced outside and offered a nonchalant shrug at the now-growing Herring estate. If nothing else, the growing turmoil only made their task easier, though she had to admit that festivities during such a time were indeed a foolish notion. The carriage began to slow, pausing before the walkway leading to the front doors of solid stone mined from Callence. On either side of the foreboding, three meter high gates stood a pair of golems acting as guard. With a small chuckle, Nimrellye turned to Jamond.

    "What good your little sharp piece of metal would do against the likes of them, too. If we were truly to arrive to a situation where your skills were necessary, one sword would make no difference."

    Without a reply, Jamond opened the door to permit her exit. Hiking her red skirts up, taking a careful glance around, Nimrellye stepped from the carriage with Jamond close behind her. After much debate, they had agreed that Jamond would pose as her bodyguard instead of her husband, for in his own words 'I'm no mummer.' It had been quite a challenge to fabricate a feasible reason as to why Nimrellye - Arien Fortellt - would be on her own at such an event, for it was more business affairs than anything else. Last minute efforts to profit before the war came.

    As it was, Arien Fortellt was the previous wife of a prevalent merchant lord and former widow until her recent remarriage in order to consolidate her own finances and merge with another company of equal size to create a middle-tier shipping company. To avoid possible suspicion, they had placed the company further east, stating that it had been the former Fortellt's wish to expand operations west. Personally, Nimrellye believed it to be a weak substitute for Jamond's role as her spouse, but it would have to do.

    Upon their arrival at the front doors, the golems blocked their path until a human officer hurried to meet them. Without word, Jamond handed the man the invitation, and, with no additional delays, the man beckoned the golems open the doors. Even with their superior strength, it took the two over a minute to shove the gates to a grinding halt. Woe behold a true crisis. Nimrellye, taking Jamond's arm through her own, gracefully strode forward, all possible remnents of Nimrellye the thief absorbed into Arien Fortellt the merchant's wife.

    A thin layer of peach-toned chalk covered the entirety of her scar, cheekbones extended with the assistance of magic, and hair tied back and put beneath a wig of hair the shade of the open sky. Over her eyes, she wore a layer of flexible, magic-generated lenses that changed her eye color from dull brown to brilliant blue while all visible portions of her skin were darkened to the eastern complexion, compensating for her own pale one. A lose fitting red dress, more robe than anything else, covered her and, more importantly, concealed the stiletto that lay across her thigh. Jamond was likewise converted to look similar enough to Arien Fortellt, though his form was too stocky to truly pass for anyone but an immigrant come back with his charge.

    "Do you believe the man could read?" Arien asked, glancing around the dimly lit, grandiose entrance hall with a look of wonder.

    "There was no chance that he couldn't. His job's too 'portant." Jamond returned in a hushed tone to match her own.

    Arien nodded, spending the rest of the walk in silence as the two strode forward arm in arm. At the end of the hallway, a great portrait of the owner of the estate, Duke Herring, met them. Its eyes moved down to meet the pair before it began to slide outward, permitting entrance into the bright dining hall crowded with guests. Voices and music spilled into the dim entrance hall, a stark contrast. Jamond led Arien into the dining hall, and the portrait duly shut behind them with a soft thud. An excessive measure in the means of defense. She allowed the glimpse of Nimrellye to surface itself before assuming Arien once more, letting go of Jamond's arm.

    From there, the plan was to find Herring and initiating the first touch. Arien was as social as the situation warranted, taking food and drink when presented and keeping the heavy accent of an easterner the entire time. Little to no question about her professional background surfaced, much to her good fortune, if it was only momentary. No doubt Herring would wish to question her business, though she believed her alibi was strong enough. It had to be. If not, her dagger through his ribs would bring the same ends about: a lack of economic and logistical support for Barrience, and with it, an easy entry for Jerrell into its eastern neighbors. Of course, this way her income would be substantiated in the process.

    But then, what was gold without power?
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  3. Near the Herring Estate

    Yilvia rubbed her arms as the rain outside continued to fall. The air was chilly here, and the stone filling the city didn't help. She heard a nearby horse snort, and Yilvia turned to face it. "I know, right?! Humans don't care about us at all. Just throw us in a cold stable, we'll be fine." Yilvia sniffled lightly. "Yeah, maybe WE should throw THEM in a stable." Yilvia's eyes glanced over in the direction of the Herring estate. Her employer had been invited to the event due to his many interactions with the duke, delivering important packages and letters across the land. Yilvia's lower lip pouted. "We're the ones that do all the work, lugging their carts, kicking bandits. The least they could do is offer to let us join the party. Or put us in a nice, warm room with blankets and apples." Stamping her hoof, Yilvia continued. "Yeah, we should demand better treatment. Who's with me?!" Yilvia's arm shot into the air before galloping out of the stables and into the rain.

    Yilvia's whole body shivered as she reached the gates. Her eyes narrowed as she looked behind her into the empty street. "Stupid horses. This would have been much easier if they'd followed me. Well, the joke will be on them when I get to stay somewhere warm." After a large burly man and a woman in a red dress entered the gates, Yilvia trotted up to the gatekeeper. Remembering the phrase the merchant had taught her, Yilvia spoke. "Sir, I am Yilvia Stalmont, in service to the merchant Tormeck Glandor." She gave an awkward curtsy before continuing. "It's really cold out here, can you let me in?" All hints of etiquette were gone, as her employer had not deemed it necessary to teach her such things. Yilvia shifted from hoof to hoof as she awaited a response.
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  4. The air was thick with smoke and the chatters of the patrons were almost deafening within the small tavern. The cold night had made the allure of a nice warm tavern with hot food and drinks plentiful almost irresistible to wandering travelers. The overcrowded state of "The Crippled Crane" was only aided by the fact that the entire crew of the Victory were in attendance, eager to unwind after their long trip up the river to the base of Callence Mountain. Their arrival had been delayed by the tides and were now forced to wait for the shipping docks to re-open. In the land of Galeena, sailors had earned a reputation for choosing to drink till they're sick rather than stand around and wait on dry land.

    Alaron stood propped up against a pillar in the noisy tavern with his pipe in one hand and a tankard in the other. He had been drinking and smoking for what felt like days. His arms felt heavy and his vision was blurred. He swayed back and forth as if he were still aboard his ship. His mouth was dry from all the smoke he had inhaled but still he continued. Feeling the crisp burn down his throat as he smoked his coarse ground tobacco. The crowds shouted and cheered as they sang out to their favorite songs, slurring through all the words.

    For a few verses Alaron tried to sing along. His crewmates called out to him and he couldn't resist the offer. He pushed himself off the pillar and stumbled towards his crew.

    "Then up jumped the shark with his nine rows of teeth, singing 'You eat the dough boys and I'll eat the beef'!"

    His crew let out a quick cheer then continued on with the rest of the song.

    Alaron continued to sway through the tavern, brushing past some patrons and slamming into others. One patron in particular didn't take too kindly to his lack of motor skills and shoved Alaron onto a nearby table.

    By this point his vision was so blurred he didn't even see who pushed him. A man? A Woman? Before he could ask himself again he opened his eyes, having a clear view of the ceiling and all the cobwebs that had weaved their war through the crude chandeliers. Running his fingers through his salty hair he heaved himself upright and continued walking, eventually making his way to the door.

    Pushing the door open with his shoulder and dropping his tankard on his way out, Alaron felt the cold breeze of the night on his face and the rain pelt his shoulders. He stuffed his pipe with more tobacco and took a few quick puffs to keep the ember strong.

    He swayed his way down the road following the river, passing small shops and roadside stands that lined the way to Callence. Fortunately for him being the First Mate he didn't have to take any part in the unloading of his ship and the subsequent paperwork involved in the shipping and receiving process. His job aboard the Victory had him keeping the crew in line and navigating, allowing for plenty of time to unwind and explore ports during unloading.

    A few times during his walk he could feel himself beginning to lose hold of his liquor, but composed himself each time.

    Falling to one knee in his intoxicated state he gazed down a road paralleling the river and noticed a large manor. All The lights in the large building were on, instantly reminding him of lighthouses guiding wandering ships into port. He could see a carriage making its way down the path on return from the house.

    He flagged the driver down and hailed the man.

    "Ho there! Whats all the commotion going on up there?" He asked motioning towards the house, trying his best not to slur.

    "That's the Herring Estate, they're holding a party of sorts for important traders, merchants, and others persons of note."

    The carriage driver tipped his hat and continued on.

    Alaron leaned up against a tree to gain his balance and continued to smoke his pipe and stared out at the estate. The distant lights against the black of night with the sound of rain tapping the cobblestone road was almost hypnotizing to him.
  5. Herring Estate

    Yet more delays awaited the two as they stood around the circle that had wound its way around Herring, who sat enthroned upon a chair presumably he kept aloft with but an extension of magic. Personally, Nimrellye believed it was the four retainers who kept it aloft and stood around the massive Ga'Rei who had most likely forgotten what legs were originally intended for. His pale skin was as fine and pristine as a stained pillow case and his blue hair folded in plated waves around a puffed face that sank into jowls when he spoke through puffed blue lips that puckered into a fat mushroom.

    At last a lull in the conversation arrived, giving Arien a chance to toss aside her disgust and compose herself before speaking to the behemoth of fat and gluttony before her. Taking a moment to reapply a layer of blur around her face, she stepped forward and cleared her throat. When no response came, Arien glanced to Jamond, giving him a look that read plain as day do something. Jamond, with a scowl, shook his head with little more than a twitch to the left and right. Arien, avoiding losing her temper with a quick outward sigh, cleared her throat again and spoke over the soft din that fell over the secluded chamber within the main hall.

    "Juéshì Herring." She began with a bow, speaking first as one did when below another's social standing. "Perhaps one could spare drink and idle conversation with one and her vassal?"

    Herring snapped his head to attention, his many chins wobbling as he stared square down his nose at Arien and parted the mushroom just enough to spit out. "If one wished to make idle conversation, she would have without waiting for a pause. Speak plainly."

    Arien's lips pursed into a small smile; he had taken the bait. "Apologies, one should have realized such a ploy would fall before such an intellect. One has come with a profitable proposition, a proposition of mutual benefit, one thinks."

    "And this could not await a time less inclined to festivities? I do not open my doors to all for those of influence to in turn attempt to influence myself. What is to interest me as to take time from my personal enjoyment to bore myself with pointless bureaucracy I work through well on any other day? You will need to put in more effort to stir my heart to such a waste of precious time."

    She hesitated for a moment, eyes flickering to Jamond for a brief moment then back to Herring. "Of course, one is correct to shun such an offer. One merely wished to offer such a chance as to expand wealth beyond these humble borders. To take what is but a petty fortune to what one might make it is a chance few would would pass upon. One intends, as was her late husband's wish, to expand her fortune to the west. As her husband predicted, one would enjoy such benefits as a deal of this magnitude would entail. Power and wealth in abundance, enough for even the holiest of the Statesman to forsake his purpose and become as corrupt as the Scoundrel."

    Herring's eyebrows furrowed and, had he less weight to him, his brow would have creased into deep recesses. A meaty hand came to rest upon his chin as he considered the offer; the crowd was beginning to dissipate as the servants began to crowd into the dining hall behind the small chamber. Smells wafted in through the open doorways, causing the slab of flesh to take his great head flapping to the source. Taking the massive mass of sinew and fat that was his hand from his face, Herring turned to Arien, a great tongue sloshing across his lips as he spoke.

    "Perhaps it shall wait until after the meal, my lady." He laid a sharp emphasis on the word, the meaning of which had been lost on Arien.

    The meal was about what Nimrellye had expected. Seven courses, most of it for the host's own lusts to sustenance than anything else, as most ceased dining around the third course - the one that, under normal circumstances, should have marked the end of formalities and a return to the event or to leaving the host's estate, whichever seemed ideal to the event in question. As it was, she had watched the time pass and seen Jamond begin to grow more and more drunk upon the fire-brewed wine served. By the end of the meal, he had to be escorted back to the carriage by two armed men for tossing a pitcher at a servant, much to the ire of several present.

    By the time Herring rose from his chair - no, rather began to move - Arien had begun to grow more agitated at yet more waiting. The one who could offer some form of entertainment was, no doubt, beginning to feel the onset of sickness out in the yard and already the crowd was gathering around the Ga'Rei noble. Taking one last drink of fire wine, feeling the brew burn upon her tongue, Arien strode towards Herring, who upon her arrival nodded with a wobble and dismissed the others with a wave of his mammoth arm.

    In a rushed slur, he spat out. "I will consider your offer. Tomorrow, at the docks, near sunrise. You will know the ship. It shall be far more magnificent than any vessel there!"

    With that, he laughed. And he laughed. And laughed. With a wide grin, Nimrellye joined in.