Summoner: Cataclysm

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Celest, Jun 30, 2012.

  1. [​IMG]
    A ship came to each clan's port, allowing the summoners to board. If a summoner was a rogue, or was not part of a clan, they were asked to meet up at the small harbor city of Callum. Nasreen was among the clanless and the rogues, standing at the edge of the dock, wind whipping through her long white hair, ears twitching as mist from the ocean hit the fur. Why was she here? That answer was simple.

    Nasreen stood there, head held high, eyes positioned on the horizon just for the simple reason that she was there to live, to gain honor, to make her parents crawl on their knees back to her and beg for forgiveness. A dark look passed over her face at the thought of her family; the family that left her, called her unfit. Now, she shall laugh in their face when they see her triumph over every clan in the province; they will beg her to allow them to her call daughter once more.

    This feat was not going to be easy; she never thought that. Nasreen looked back over her shoulder at the summoners. They are my adversaries, nothing more. A bond shall not be formed; my heart shall stay whole. Pursing her lips, she looked back at the horizon, sails coming into view. Squinting, she sighed. The time has come, Zion. Our time has come. Talking to him was of no use; Zion could not talk back, but she still made a habit of talking to him like he could.





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    The clanless and rogues stepped onto the ship, greeted by a feast. Pah, a feast for the dead. Even though her mind told her to resist the temptation of food, her body needed it. Also, the way the food was set up and lit up by lanterns made it that much more appetizing. The smell of meat wafted into her nose... the sweetness of fresh fruit filled the air. Each plate looking better than the last with the glow of light on them. Without a word, she took a place from the table and found a spot on deck to sit. The journey would be long; they were days away from Millennium Gate. What was her plan for that time? Stay secluded, lock herself away from the others on board.. by this time, all of the other clans had already boarded.

    Nasreen cleaned her plate. With a sigh, she laid back on deck, the sun warmed wood radiating hear through her body, taking away the chilly edge in the wind. I enjoy the night most of all... don't you, Zion? She stared up at the midnight blue sky, mountains on one side of them. The planet Nephus was at its largest tonight, causing the moon Heshing to appear as a dwarf... even as a child Nasreen would lay out in the fields of her father's farm. That was the time she and Zion had just sealed their contract. It was hard adjusting to her new ears and tail, but the field did not judge her new appearance; the field would never judge her new appearance.



    [​IMG]


    The summoners were now a day's trip away from port. Each member knew what was ahead. Nasreen could feel the tension building over the last couple days on the ship. She barely spared three words to each summoner, exactly how she wanted it. Now, she was just coming on deck. Her ears laid flat, not wanting the wind to tickle her fur.. after awhile having your ears twitch over and over grew old. She bypassed some other summoners on deck and stood at the railing. Murmuring to herself softly, she leaned down on the railing, elbows down against it, chin resting in her palms.

    "I will be triumphant," Nasreen mumbled over and over to herself, having to encourage her heart as they grew closer to the inevitable.


     
  2. It was busy, bustling, backs to fronts, asses and elbows at the docks. The venders were making money hand over fist, selling all the “home comforts” they rushed delivered and could now but barely keep on the gleaming hooks or clean swept counter tops. There was money in it all, for the summoners who waited on the dock, most of whom would never see these familiar shores, their home towns, lovers, friends and family this was it. And though they knew that only one would return, most acted as if they were here to share stories before enjoying a the luxuries of an all expense paid trip to the Gate. Comparing scars and triumphs as they chewed on roast pork and salted fish, for those who didn't know any better it'd seem like it was all just a bunch of old friends.

    Sarmad wasn't tempted. He stood facing the boat which would soon stand to be his most permanent home for the last several months. He was, like many of them, rogue. He found it curious that so many who'd done something severe enough to be thrown out of their clan could speak so openly with another. It was never as simple as the typical social stigma, nothing as kind as the usual vice, when it came to those who were so familiar with violence, there was only so much that one could do. Maybe it made them feel better, Sarmad found no solace in any of it. After all, they were all here because the ones who once trusted them could barely face them without a concealed dagger and fantasy of vengeance coming to mind. It would be, however, inevitable as they would all be together at the Gate, maybe that's what made it easier in the end. Causes and rhetoric always made things easier, glory and power made it an opportunity. Sarmad sighed softly and slung his dusted cloth satchel over his shoulder as the wooden walkway clunked down upon the pier and was secured on both end by sea-worn rope. It was his last day of freedom, or at least, what he considered to be that. As he stepped onto walkway his left eye began to ache, dully, almost unnoticeably.

    “Patience...”

    If the ship's outside seemed modest, the interior washed away even the slightest notion of that with waves of luxury and comfort that most had never seen before. It was fit for the new king or queen, uncrowned as he or she may have been. All the summoners who felt they had a fighting chance had long since boarded the ship, from the rogue and clan-less to those who won the praise and endorsement of their elders and clansmen. Had it not been for the lavish arrangements the atmosphere would have been made ever so slightly more hostile. Sarmad could see it as he wandered through the ship, down the waxed and polished halls where awe filled eyes took in the accommodations, down in the galley amidst the crew who lopped off the heads of hundreds of pounds of fresh catch with cleavers. It seemed not to matter where he was, he couldn't seem to find any comfort, perhaps that was for the best. It did him no good to get used to this standard of living, it'd be a shame if this was his fondest memory before 'Ifrit took the everything that was owed. Win or lose, that's how it was going to end, that's how it always was going to end. As he climbed the stairs to the deck and smelled the salt in the sea air he couldn't help but laugh to himself, maybe the Jinn would have more luck in this body than Sarmad had.

    The feast that night was more than Sarmad could have imagined even in his most fanciful of dreams. It was as if it were straight from the stories his grandmother used to tell him, the smell of the rich meats and fruits was almost enough to turn his stomach. He'd become so used to eating sparingly, whatever he could afford or killed that he worried anything he ate would end up food for the fish. The others seemed to have no such trouble, or if they did they weren't showing it. Shoveling the glazed meats and jewel fruits on their polished plates and hurriedly into their mouths as if it was all too good to be true, like it would disappear if given second thought. Despite the clear divides drawn by clan alliance and pride, food was the one thing they all could agree on, even the nastiest look was forgettable in the face of a leg of lamb or a cup of aged wine. Sarmad's eyes wandered from platter to platter, his hand rested upon his stomach, in his hunger he for a moment forgot where he was and lightly bumped into someone.

    “Well who do we have here?” It was one of the last people Sarmad wanted to see before the ship arrived at the gate. “You haven't forgotten your manners since we threw you out with the rest of the trash have you Sarmad?”

    “I haven't, pardon me Rahad.” It just had to be Rahad, one of the favored sons of his former clan. One of the summoners who had the most reason to want to kill Sarmad before the boat even docked. While Sarmad had no reason to fear him, he didn't feel like drawing out Rahad's temper that was known to flare up at even the slightest provocation. So Sarmad smiled softly and bowed his head ever so slightly before turning away, he'd lost his appetite.

    “Oh come now Sarmad, can't you spare a moment? It's not often one's superiors offers to share a meal, even if all you deserve are scraps.” Definitely, his appetite was gone.

    Finally the journey was nearing a close, they were but a day from the Gate and it began to show amongst the ship's passengers. There was far less laughter floating through the halls, far fewer stories shared over alcohol, the lavish meals began to go largely uneaten, even clansmen began to draw lines between one another. Sarmad had done his best to escape the tension, he spent most of his time on deck, his back to the side walls of the captains quarters, his gaze focused on the deceptively calm ocean. It was his favorite spot on the ship, far enough away from those who'd take pleasure in cutting his throat as he slept and the closest thing he had to remind him of the nature of his life up until that point. For all he knew it was the last time he'd ever get to see something like this, or feel like he did in that moment. It wasn't that bad of a send of if this was to be it, the ocean was beautiful and it was the first time he'd really gotten to see this much of it. None would be able to appreciate life as they once had, and those who took already took it for granted had long since missed out on their chance to admire the beauty of it all and cling to it like it was their mother.

    Sarmad's stomach growled, “I wonder what's for dinner.”
     
  3. Enqua sits in the background of all the people, like a black figure. Everyone whispered, laughed, talked, or made some form of noise as people piled on. Enqua sat there like an intimate object, eyes sunken from what seemed lack of sleep or illness. From afar people thought of her to be a very life-like toy misplaced on the ship, not until she flickers her eyes towards them giving them a shot of hairs on end. Enqua was nothing but a floating spirit as most would figure, not having any real reason to be on the ship- not a reason that would be like the rests. Summoner's, ones that call themselves that, have come to kill one another in a battle royal, nothing that ever redeemed interest to Enqua. Let alone the fact she harms people out of spite accident because of her spirit...

    Enqua was first dragged to the ship by a sailor, a man that thought she was an orphan wondering town. As much of her presence was redeemed bad luck with the rest of the crew they kept her in good moral. Ever since the sailor placed her down into the belly of the boat, and was told of the reason for this ship she has sat in the same spot for the past 3 days, 72 hours, 20 minutes, and 7 seconds. People would usually walk by just to get a glance, not that anyone would ever come to talk to her as if they already got the aura she wouldn't speak back. As a mute it played a part in her lack of communication to the outside world, but, gives more reason for her spirit to 'communicate' for her. Even if it means taking host to the next victim 2 ft away. The Windego does not act on emotions of his summoner, but on impulse and for his own sake. The Windego, the opposite to his summoner, finds pleasure in the idea of slaughter to those that are willing for it. In away, it was just a giant buffet for him...

    "That girl..." a whisper among the crowed can be heard, her attentive ears knowing they were behind her with 3 other men. More whispers began and muffled out.

    "Is it a doll?"

    "One of the ghosts on these ships?"

    "She can't be a summoner... She looks so melee."

    They all gave attention to her first appearance, to her demeanor appearance. For they did not know what rattled her mind and what made her urge. She was not annoyed, but rather tired- genuinely. Tired of everyone around her, as her spirit got filled with excitement and rustled inside. She felt him steer and turn in her insides almost giving her an ache of sickness... She was angry inside and, now, annoyed with the presence of everyone just for the sake of her spirit to simmer down.
     

  4. As the ship of the summoners approached the dock of the Sea clan, Tiloros took a moment to take in the fresh air; which the smell of salt as well. He personally was excited for this voyage to begin. He felt confident that he was going to prevail in the Cataclysm and if he wasn't, he'd go down valiantly. But, he wasn't too concerned with that right now, in fact he was just focused on enjoying the voyage to retrieve the other summoners. That was pleasing enough for him, just being able to sail among the seas while visiting and stopping at many new and exciting places. Suddenly, Tiloros was hit some reality...What if these were indeed his last stops or..His last voyage?

    This wasn't the time to back down, or give up..No..What would Polisua think of this? Polisua, the kraken spirit that was contracted to Tiloros and she never knew fear. She always raged the seas without any fear or mercy for those who dared trespass through her waters, Tiloros needed to be like Polisua, brave and fearless. She would be watching over him at all times, seeing how he reacted in different situations, and to make the mighty kraken angry..Would be very unwise.

    As he walked across the plank and onto the ship, he looked around to see a few other summoners currently present. Some of them seemed distant and closed off from others, that was alright..Tiloros was the same way. He kept mainly to himself unless he approached by another person, due to the fact that he just wasn't that great with starting up conversations; and most of the time he would just blabber on about how much he loves the sea, ships, and exploring.

    Tiloros wandered over towards the table where the food was, slowly walking down to see if anything caught his nose or eyes. Everything looked appetizing and smelled alluring, yet he didn't even bother to take a plate and fill it with food. He wasn't really that hungry and could live without eating for a while longer as he walked towards the bow of the ship, gazing out at the sea. Tiloros closed his eyes listening to the water splash and move about..How relaxing it was to his ears and how it made him feel better about everything, including his chances in this event..

    "Failure is not an option..I will prevail"
     
  5. Lea was dreading the first part of the journey. She feared the sea, and by extension most anything that sailed on it. As she waited in the Winged clan's port for the ship to arrive that morning, she fidgeted and worried at her clothes, pale-faced and far too quiet. When the vessel eventually docked she was rooted to the spot for a few paralysing moments, watching as people around her began making their way onto the ship. In her mind's eye Phoenix stirred, no doubt roused by the noise and her rushing emotions.
    Move, Lea. It's time to go. Phoenix sent her a mental image of a shove in the back. A ghost of a smile spread over the girl's face as she felt warmth spread in her back.
    ---

    Once on board, Lea found that while she did in fact have sea legs, she didn't have the stomach for travelling on the ocean. The smell of food made her feel nauseous, and she quickly made the choice to forego eating in favour of sitting out on the deck of the ship. The ocean gleamed at her maliciously as the ship cut through the waves. Shivers ran down her spine, making her wings flex unpleasantly. She hauled herself to her feet and shifted away from the edge of the ship, no longer caring for the view. How people fell in love with the sea, she would never know.
     
  6. The city of Callum was rather loud and boisterous the past few nights as the rather surprising amount of rogue and outcast summoners had gathered. Shinji had been staying in the town for the better part of a seven moons while awaiting the arrival of the boat. Each night he had suffered the delusions of death and despair in his dreams with the nights getting longer and more terrifying. It was to the point where he no longer wished to sleep for fear of the torments that would await him at the whims of his summon. The final day had arrived that the boat would appear on and he had all of his supplies ready to go. He knew not if they would be supplied weaponry or provisions, not that he used much of either, but he still brought the essentials.

    As Shinji walked out of the inn and towards the docks he could see that the boat had already arrived and people were boarding. He quickly made his way over towards the boat and boarded. The many people that he passed quickly made a face of disgust and a few even vomited at the extremely noxious odor that emitted from his body. It had become something of a second nature to him as the miasma seeped out of his skin in a thin yet deadly gas that poured about. He opened his mouth to let out a sigh of annoyance and watched as a puff of purple smoke came out and then floated off into the sky. Shinji soon noticed that he had been emitting his miasma without noticing again and quickly held it inside of his being so as not to reveal himself or draw attention to himself as much as possible.

    The boat was gloriously designed and filled with extravagant meals that seemed to be from around the continent. Some of the meals seemed somewhat appetizing to him and he didn't hold back when grabbing some food. It seemed as though he grabbed several plates of food and then headed off towards the rear of the boat. For the next few days Shinji was seen either in the back of the boat alone or wandering the halls of the boat at night with the look of death upon his face and the sickly odor emitting from him in a thick coating. Most had spread rumors that he was a haunted spirit of a summoner past haunting the ship while others just figured he had a curse upon him. It was a few days before they had arrived at the island and he tried to stay quiet and in the background.
     
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    The day went by; they were now at the harbor of Millennium Gate. The atmosphere was tense... everyone knew what was bound to happen.

    [​IMG]


    Nasreen groaned softly as she stood on deck, looking towards Millennium Gate. They would be staying in an Inn somewhere within the city. I hope the beds at the inn will be better than the ships. After taking a deep breath, she walked down the plank and onto the dock; Millennium gate hidden behind a mountain. Not only are we going to fight eachother… we have to climb a mountain before we can sleep, she grumbled in her mind, pretending that Zion could hear her.

    It almost felt as if he could. Excitement slithered in her stomach, but it wasn’t her own. Zion was prepared… he knew what was going to happen.. he knew where they were. This is the place they had been training for. Zion continued to move inside her, causing her to feel dizzy and light headed; her mind pleaded him to stop… but to no avail… this caused her to stop on the path and hold her head.

    “Please, Zion, stop,” she mumbled under her breath, palm pressed against her forehead.

    After a moment of standing there, and having other summoners pass her, Zion calmed down. Now, it felt as if the great spirit was sleeping. Maybe he would stay like this for a while.

    Finally, the got to the top of the mountain; it was all downhill from there. Fences lined either side of the summoners, small torches lighting their way. Smell of sweet flowers wafted through the valley and greeted the strangers… almost as if welcoming them to their death. Looking down over the city… one could see the rest of the torches that lit the city.. the mountains that might be one of the arenas.

    Nasreen couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the sight. She had never been around such a big city. The two clans she trained with was nowhere near this size… the city alone caused her to be nervous. She knew she needed to calm her emotions because Zion would feed off that; she didn’t feel like having another dizzy spell.

    “I can do this,” Nasreen said softly, voice a bit shaky “I. Can. Do. This.”
     
  8. Not a summoner among them had ever been to the gate, they'd only heard stories about it. Myths. Legends. All of which had left out the trek up the mountain which probably accounted for the grumbles which had all but replaced conversation. Perhaps it was better that things had taken that turn, it wasn't like there would be much time for talking when they arrived at the gate. Even if there were a few persevering conversationalists, the amount of red dust kicked up by the march would have turned sentences to tired coughs. Sarmad did not mind the walk as much as some of the others did, he'd become used to walking as his life style required it of him. And how lucky they were to have destination in mind. Sarmad no longer kept track of how often he found himself wandering with no forseeable end. The mountain path on the other hand seemed to disappear after a distance, a welcome relief for the more persistant grumblers.

    The view from the summit was indeed rewarding, the climb had taken them into the night and thus torches had been lit. It was almost welcoming, almost warming. But the torches weren't lit in the name of hospitality or perhaps to give the impression of open arms, it was to make sure the entire crop made it to the city below. It would be wasteful if any of the less traveled were to die due to exposure while lost in the woods. But now as the group was at a stand still and almost didn't seem to want to move any more forward. Even those voices which had once so loudly proclaimed their intent to prevail, or boasted of their power and exploits were stood still shoulder to shoulder. Some whispered and others gritted their teeth, it was as if at long last everything had become real. It wasn't just about talk anymore, every step they took brought them closer to proving themselves or dying in the midst of trying. And slowly but surely they began down the path towards the last place most of them would call home. The pace carried a grave tone through every foot fall, even the somber shuffles managed to find their way through the night's march.

    Sarmad who had been content to follow with the flow of the crowd had for a moment allowed his mind to wander during the leisurely walk down hill when a woman's voice drifted softly through the air, almost as if it was not intended to be heard by a soul. Not any of the living at least. The first he could but barely hear, it wasn't loud enough for he who had only been listening casually to understand. The next few however didn't escape him,

    “I. Can. Do. This.”

    He saw her, through the crowd of swaying arms and satchels Sarmad spotted her. She looked and sounded a lot like how many of the summoners probably felt but were doing their best to conceal. Sarmad wondered why she seemed not too concerned to show this side of herself, perhaps she thought the others were far to caught up in their own troubles to notice one another. Or maybe she simply didn't care. He coudn't decide and since he didn't know her he put his curiosity about her rational to rest. There were more pressing things to be concerned about at this point anyway. He couldn't allow himself to be sidetracked as he often did in his life of wanders and travel. The pace had steadily picked up anyway, it seemed that the summoners were either becoming more comfortable with their fate or simply more antsy about it.

    “Maybe encouragement is the right way to go.”
     
  9. As the boat had reached the dock and the summoners began to file out Shinji had made sure to be in the very front. Not out of the role of leadership but so he could avoid contact with anyone. Most of the summoners had groaned and made complaints about the mountain at first sight, others welcomed the challenge while the great many stayed silent. Regardless of their actions Shinji moved forwards following the pathway towards the mountain and up the trail. In his mind he was intrigued slightly but on the outside he seemed dead calm and un-phased by any of it. The trail continued for a long time and many of the summoners were growing tired.

    A few of the summoners had managed to sneak up behind him in pace during their travels but most quickly backed off at the sickly smell that had once again began to pour from his body. As his feet stomped upon the dirt a small puff of black smoke would shoot out a little bit before dissipating. The unlucky flowers that had caught a hint of the smoke withered nearly instantaneously. It wasn't until they reached the top of the mountain that he noticed his miasma had been leaking again, being more of a second nature than something he had to focus on, and quickly dispersed it not wanting one of his most powerful techniques to be let on if it had not already.

    Once at the top of the mountain he noticed that the group had stopped to catch their breath. It made him wonder how any of the ones panting had thought themselves to be strong enough if they couldn't even handle a mild hike like this. Perhaps this was a test to weed out the weaker of themselves. As the group rested Shinji made small notes of the people panting making sure to kill them off first or even to force them into fights with each other. After all, the greatest reward for him out of this would be all the bloodshed. As his thoughts crept towards carnage he couldn't help but let a smile cross his face seemingly at the talks of fun and the little laughter around them when in reality it was not so pleasant. After a few minutes he decided to sit upon a rather large rock that had a naturally carved seating area, or perhaps it was not natural but the work of a summoner. Either way he sat there and admired the sunset, the lovely crimson sky almost bathing the world in a luminescent blood bath.