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Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
Anytime, I have no life.
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Douche
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Nonbinary
  3. Transgender
  4. Primarily Prefer Male
Fantasy, romance, slice of life, anti-hero stories, "you're our only hope", fandom non-canons, soft scifi, transhumanism, magical girls, horror, suspense / mystery, detective noir, fractured fairytales

Bungee Inline;Monda;

Important Links

Interest Check - Ø
Compendium (Classes & Races) - Ø
Sign-Ups - Ø
In Character - STONE [ Ø ] - WOOD [ Ø ]
Discord Server - Ø

Cover art: source


@Jays - Rook
@Joan - Kasdeya
@Jorick - Maya
@Nemopedia - Eloise Littlesleep
@Qwertronix - Wrek't
@Spectre - Gox
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"Martin Huntgalery."

Seven members of the Steelsong Legacy wake up almost all at the same time. No one can tell how long they've been out or where they are - the only certain thing is that they were not here as far as they could remember. A tavern, a nap in the woods, a hunt - it didn't matter. Wherever those Steelsingers had been, they no longer were. Only a name floated in their mind, a certain someone named Martin Huntgalery, but it did not ring any bells for anyone.

Despite the darkness, one could get a general idea of their surroundings. As far as each hand could reach was damp stone, something that had been roughly carved perhaps out of rock directly. There was a heaviness to the air that reminded of deep underground cells, thick with moisture and dirt, combined with another scent that could be qualified as distinctly alive. Even those without dark vision would instantly know they were not alone.

As far as any normal-hearing person could make out, there was a dripping sound that was too constant to be droplets of humidity leaking from the ceiling. There was likely a source of water nearby, but it was far enough that the Steelsingers would not see it immediately.

"H-hello?" The small voice was the first one to speak up, a frail thing that surely belonged to a similarly frail girl. "I can't see anything... I-I think I have a torch." A few seconds of fumbling around later and a bright flame light up the room.

It wasn't exactly a room. There were three high stone walls, reaching at least fifteen feet high, without any ceiling in sight even for those with remarkable dark vision. The person holding the torch was indeed a girl, but she looked far from frail. Her light-green skin immediately betrayed her Half-Orc race, and the thick black tresses gave the girl a strangely otherworldly look. Her tusks were short things and gave her a light lisp as she spoke again.

"I feel like I know some of y-you." Her dark eyes focused for a moment on few faces and her face lit up in recognition. "Steelsingers? Are you all from the Steelsong Legacy?"

Though she'd failed to introduce herself, the Half-Orc girl bit her lip and nodded, casting the torch around her to see if there was anything beyond those walls. The fourth side of the strange room lead into more darkness, and while the girl stood and started her way there, she stopped in her tracks and quickly turned back toward the group.

"I don't want to go first."
Maya pushed herself up off the ground with a disgusted grimace at the damp stone, then quickly made a familiar check that all her important things were in place, quickly patting herself down after the Half-Orc woman lit her torch. Instrument, rapier, daggers, loose coins in a pocket, backpack with a bedroll attached, and a variety of metal clanks from inside the pack. Everything seemed to be accounted for, so she breathed a sigh of relief and peered up into the endless darkness above. It was very clearly a different place than the cramped tavern room she'd bedded down in for the night, provided free after she performed for a couple hours in the common room to draw thirsty customers, and nothing good could come of waking up in some kind of subterranean chamber that felt like a cell reserved for the worst offenders. Part of her self-assigned job in any group was to keep morale high, so she didn't let any of those thoughts show on her face or get anywhere near the surface tone of her words.

"This definitely isn't where I went to sleep. I probably shouldn't have had that third cup of wine before bed." The lighthearted dismissal of the seriousness of the situation was coupled with Maya casting a grin around the group as she quickly assessed her companions. They were a disparate lot, to be sure, but she'd always felt at home among groups of outcasts so that was a good thing. "I'm pretty sure I recognize most of you, definitely Steelsingers, but names are..." She trailed off and waved a hand vaguely through the air. "Anyway, I'm Maya, singer of songs and teller of tales. It's a pleasure to meet you all, despite the circumstances." Just because she enjoyed the extravagance of it, she gave the people a performer's bow complete with an entirely unnecessary flourish of her leather skirt.

"I will definitely not be going first, but I'll happily take second in line." Maya looked around the group once more, as if searching for a suitable candidate, but it was all show since she already knew who she was going to elect to take the lead: the large Half-Orc fellow. "Maybe you can lead the way, hmm? You look big and strong enough to take care of anything that might get in our way. Please?" Maya put on her best simper, a coquettish smile coupled with pleading eyes and fluttering lashes, the perfect mask of a helpless damsel who might just reward her savior with more than mere gratitude. It was a cheap ploy, but it had worked countless times to get brainless oafs to do things for her so there was no real downside to trying it now.

As the attention turned to him, the large half-orc finished what was visibly a full scan of every other person present and their gear, and settled his squinted eyes on the speaker. With his gaze fixed on her, it was clear that one eye was actually shut and only one eye was glaring out.

Almost with a hint of derision, his reply came calmly from a grating, exhausted voice. "Most of you don't look like you can handle a real fight anyway." The matter apparently closed for him, he turned towards the rock-skinned stranger wearing heavy armor instead. "It looks dark out there. How well can your kind see in the dark? I'd prefer someone who's not blind covering our rear, at least until we know the situation and terrain."

As he spoke, the half-orc readjusted several straps, angled the large polearm on his back, and retrieved from his back a sturdy and well-used iron-reinforced heater shield, then from his belt a hammer built for battle that had clearly seen some previous use. With that, he also angled himself so that his shield was towards the exit from this room.
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A strange-sounding, deep, sawing snore erupted from the wide, gaping mouth of the lizardfolk- and almost as quickly as it ripped through the silence, it was cut short by it's owner being jarred awake with a sharp gasp. Large bulbous eyes sporting slits for pupils darted around- and dexterous fingers searched out- clawing for solid ground.

-Voices!- He thought sharply. A moment of panic gripped the rogue, as his flight response was quick. Turning into a near blur of dark cloth and scales, he spun up to his feet... He dashed back, near stumbling over something (or someone) before being met with a cool wall against his back, rapier hilt, and pack clattering against it.


Scaled hands sprawled, pupils dilated, and saw-like teeth then bared for a moment- before he finally exhaled with some relief a moment after a torch was lit. His shoulders relaxed, and his posture straightened. His amber eyes glistened in the torchlight as a tongue passed over one with an inaudible slurp.

-Maybe friend?- His mind raced, as he looked over each of the others in a similar predicament. -Yes- his eyes did not deceive him. -I maybe recognize.-

"Yes.... Steel Singer." He said, nodding enthusiastically. This enthusiasm stemming from 'not' being in danger. Or immediate danger, rather. The others were indeed from the Steelsong Legacy- he recognized them... Though he didn't personally know any of them. The dark skinned elf introduced herself, but the others did not. One of his eyes twitched, finding it rude they didn't return the gesture. His old master always taught him that manners were important to civilized folk. Gox placed his left hand on his rapier hilt, and his right hand reached up to tap his chest. "I am Gox." His tone would be that of someone rather proud of themselves. He thought he was such a 'people person'... at least he tried to be.

He would have no hesitation about volunteering to 'going first', but he wouldn't volunteer until he at least learned the names of the others he shared his unfortunate circumstance with.
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Eloise Littlesleep
Lvl 3 | Halfling | Sorcerer
Player: Nemopedia
She had dreamt strangely, with a voice whispering to her a name that she didn't recognise. Its significance irrelevant as of now, but she knew that the truth would come out eventually. It had always been that way, a foreboding knowledge that in someway spoiled her future.

Strange dreams weren't unusual for Eloise, but waking up in a place she didn't remember falling asleep in was. Her bed was hard, dusty even as it tickled her nose. Feeling cold and stiff the halfling woke up with a sneeze, her arms immediately going to her sides as she tried to rub some warmth into her arms.

A stammering voice broke through the silence, frail and afraid, Eloise's ears perked up at the sound of another, then light came and she saw that there was more than just the two of them. The one who had spoken, a half-orc with a torch in hands, not sounding half as brave or strong as she looked.

Some introduced themselves, trying to ease the rest while others remained more matter of fact and impersonal. Smiling at this randomly thrown together group of comrades Eloise crawled up, dusting herself before picking up her bag, which strangely had come with her.

"Eloise Littlesleep, Steel singer member since close to birth!" she chirped. Used to the world towering above her and having to fix her chin into a permanently raised position Eloise was far from afraid or intimidated by the walls and the darkness surrounding her.

"I have torches if the genasi doesn't want to walk in the back?" the halfling immediately offered, thinking of how the other half-orc was afraid and the second had been thrown at the front by the dark-elf. "Though, I might burn the rear of the one in front of me," she giggled childishly.
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Lv 3 || Earth Genasi || Paladin

The unfamiliarity of still air replacing soft warm breeze stirred the Genasi from the rare fitful and dreamless unconsciousness he had woven around himself. His eyelids lifted quizzically, dark beads of glass reflecting the dancing torchlight as they surveyed the forms before him.

Rook pushed himself to his feet cautiously, the soft sound of rocks grinding together echoed hollowly in the strange enclosed yet cavernous space. "By the Lord." He murmured, touching his fingers to his forehead wear a symbol of skeletal hands holding a perfectly balanced scale was carved into the dark granite that covered his skin.

He had not even sense the transferation, much less prevented it. But that fact that they were all Steelsingers reinforced him with faith. The path was right, foreseen by his God. That was all he needed. Silently he listened to the others' conversing, nodding along.

"I am Rook." He said, taking the last position. He didn't care to find out of his rear was immune to heat.

"Which one of you is Martin Huntgalery?" He asked absently. The alien name was bothering him. Even groggy as he was, Rook knew enough to tell someone else's thought from his own.
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At the mention of the name, "Martin Huntgalery", the half-orc stopped mid-step towards the exit and turned back towards Rook.

"That name..." There was a moment of hesitation on his face, but he seemed to quickly reach a decision and his face took on an even more determined look. "I remember that name and not much else."

He looked around expectantly -- perhaps someone else could remember more or fill in the context of that partial memory.
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The first thing Kasdeya was aware of was the stone she was lying on. The stone wasn't unusual. She had slept on a bed of stone like this many times. No, what was unusual was the heaviness of the air, the dripping, the heat and smell of other humanoid bodies. That, and she hadn't gone to sleep on stone.

Her eyes opened, and she rolled over onto her feet, glancing around with her darkvision. There were about six other people here, all with some kind of visible gear, and she instinctively reached down to her belt, where her scepter rested. It was still there, sitting comfortably, and she relaxed somewhat. She could feel the familiar weight of her pack on her back, as well, and her sword had bumped against her leg as she stood. Everything she had gone to bed with seemed to be here, thankfully.

The torch's light flared into being, and she blinked a couple times, looking around again at the others in the room as they each spoke in turn. The nervous half-orc girl holding the torch, a drow carrying an instrument and in showy clothes, an armored half-orc that drew a shield and hammer, a skittish lizardfolk in a dark cloak, a mischievous halfling with little gear visible other than the pack on her back, and what appeared to be an earth genasi with a symbol carved into his forehead.

As she finished taking them all in, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Yes, they were all Steelsingers. That had to mean something. It might just mean these Steelsingers had a common enemy, or it could mean something more. Either way, maybe she could find some answers here.

At the mention of Martin Huntgalery, she frowned briefly. Yes, she knew that name. It had been in her mind when she woke up, but there was nothing connected it. Yet it felt important, somehow.

"My name is Kasdeya." She spoke up from her position by the wall, nodding to the half-orc. "I'm the same as him. I know that name, for some reason, but not anything else." She reached around, unstrapping the wooden shield from her backpack, and settled it onto her left arm before falling into the middle of the line, preparing to follow the half-orc's lead. "It's a pleasure to meet you all." There was a warmth to her voice, accompanied by a gentle smile, that made it feel that much more genuine.
The half-orc girl covered her mouth apologetically and bowed to every single other person present. some of her thick black tresses fell over her face and shoulders, but the little show was over as quickly as it had begun. " Sorry sorry sorry! I forgot to introduce myself!" There wasn't a hint of guilt in her eyes as she apologized, only some kind of ferocious curiosity that was quite fitting with what someone might stereotypically associate with a half-orc. The short sword on her hip glinted in the light of her torch as she turned around to face everyone else. "I'm Vel." Because of her lisp, it somewhat sounded like Zel, but she didn't bother emphasizing the correct pronunciation of her name.

Unlike the rest of them, though, Vel had no gear save for her short sword. Her robes were clean and free of dirt or wrinkles, as though she'd been spared from sleeping on the stone floor like the others. It was decidedly odd, but Vel's enthusiasm to get going was quickly filling the dank room.

"Okay okay, let's go! I know of Martin Huntgalery, but that is not a topic for -- well, I think we should just get going now." Vel's voice was still somewhat frail and unsure, but there was something new with it too - some kind of excitement that hadn't been there earlier. "Maya, won't you play us something as we go?" The half-orc's piercing grey eyes landed on the dark elf before moving onto the others. She moved to stand right behind the other half-orc, arm stretching up to hand him the torch if he wanted it.
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Eloise Littlesleep
Lvl 3 | Halfling | Sorcerer
Player: Nemopedia
"It is nice to meet you!" Eloise stepped into line with a beaming smile, turning towards the last orc in the group that hadn't introduced himself. "What do we call our front?" she cheekily asked, rocking back and forth on her feet.

The fact that Vel knew Martin Huntgalery was interesting however. Eyeing the half-orc the halfling wondered why she had decided to stall the information for now. Coming to think of it more the half-orc stood out from the group. Seemingly unprepared, but not as disheveled and taken aback as the rest. The halfling decided not to pursue it too much, considering that the half-orc had seemed the most scared of them all earlier. She was going to keep an eye out, however.

"Why don't you come and walk with me?" Eloise called out to the female. "You can go in front of me, smack in the middle," the halfling grinned.
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Maya could smell bullshit from a mile away, and the stench couldn't have been any stronger if she was nose deep in a bull. Deception was a key component of a bard's repertoire, after all, and nobody was better at spotting lies than a massive liar. "Well, Vel," she spoke the name with the same lisping that made the first consonant ambiguous, "no performer worth her salt would play without pay. I'll make you a simple deal: tell me what you know about this Martin Huntgalery person and I'll serenade you with whatever songs you like. I am also a marvelous singer, by the way."

After making the offer, and despite her earlier statement of being fine with going second, Maya made no move to hurry to follow the large half-orc. She instead let the others move first so that she could be near the back of the pack, both for her own safety and so she could keep an eye on this Vel person who was almost certainly part of whatever shenanigans were afoot here. Her lack of damp clothes meant she hadn't been transported in her sleep like the rest of them, and that meant she was most likely in cahoots with whoever had orchestrated this strangeness, or perhaps Vel was the conductor herself. Only time would tell, but Maya kept her paranoid thoughts to herself and her eyes on the half-orc woman, just biding her time until she could pounce and drag the truth out into the torchlight by force.
Grunting in acknowledgement, Wrek't reached back and pulled up his shield, flipping it around to the front and strapping it to his forearm bracer. He then stepped out out the room and, in the same stride, snapped up a heavy hammer hanging on his belt by its head and grabbed the handle in mid-air, immediately going into a combat stance.

"Let's not take any chances. Don't know of any people that would want us dead and just leave us here instead of killing us outright while we're passed out... but I don't know of any friendlies who'd do that either."

The large half-orc's attention went inward for a moment, suddenly making him seem much smaller until he spoke again.

"We're all able to handle a fight, wouldn't be in the singers otherwise. Be ready for one any moment."

Then Wrek't stepped towards the unknown.
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