Complete Megathread Story Quest (Active World Event) As the World Turns

Pandora*

❮ Narrator ❯
Staff
Messages
253
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
0
Event
0
Special
0
OOC
Storage
Narrator Domains: Shonen-esque Mahou Shoujo, Sci-Fi, Psychological, SRPG, Battle Design
ACTIVE WORLD
Surrounding Area: Hylands @Erick Stryker


"Can you tell me anything about this?"


Eriick would hold the object given to him at Uene's New Year. Drannic would look at the half skull and frown.

"Hmmm. I've never laid eyes on this before. It looks similar to Moon Fang writings. ...perhaps I've been away from my homeland too long but it also seems different."

He shook his head.

"I cannot offer you more than that. Be careful. The Moon Fang are dangerous. They might as well be common monsters compared to the Sun Claw."






Sarina Knights Lions Pride
Finweald: Pub Knight @Vina Skysong


Sarina was at the bar with her chin in her hand. Her other hand was on a mug of blisteringly spicy liquor. They didn't make it hot enough so she had to "improvise" and add one of her gathered peppers to it.

"Hello Sarina, squire Vina Skysong here~ Would you mind if I joined you~?"


Sarina glanced at the caenis songstress but stayed slouched onto her hand.

'Sure. What do you drink?"


Sarina would put it on her tab. Being a Lion did come with some privileges. Her chest was still killing her. For an MMO, healing didn't always come quickly. She wasn't as lucky as some others. At least she didn't die though.UI locked wasn't something she was chasing... but if it was her versus someone with a better life to lose? She'd take the death every time.

At the mention of spring and the uplifting nature of the woman. Sarina felt ashamed of herself. She wasn't usually the one to need a pep talk.

'Yep. I'm sure things will get better. I just need to refresh some. That was a mad rush tho! Just wish I could do better... I looked a little too much like a noob out there. Big boss or not."


Vina offered to help in some way. Sarrina drank from her mug and felt the burn.

'Mmmhmmm, that's a SPICY meatball! That's what I'm talkin' bout... help? Well, there are always things to do. Right now we have a charity going on. Lions for Cubs? We could use your help gathering donations. The other Lions could use some cheering up too. It's been rough on everyone. As for me... I just plan to train harder. Being one shot wasn't in my plans haha."


A smile crossed her face mostly a front but the liquor helped.
Then another drink.




Nin Magical Institute of Theory
MIT Headquarters: "Overseer" @Marigold Diablo


Nin was standing away from the cleanup and repair work. Looking at her clipboard and comparing her calculated designs to the horribly miscalculated results.

Dreadful.

Then came the descent of a random mage.

"Oh, I'm Marigold by the way. Marigold Diablo. Sorceress Supreme of... the world?"


The Mathematician continued to only look at her clipboard.

"Supreme is relative. But use whatever evaluation you'd like. Yes, we had just undergone an attack. This facility is 52.2253% less operable than before. Seeing how you just dropped In, either help or leave. We are on high alert and suspicious actions just make my job harder having to report them."


She scratched the side of her head causing her beastfolk ear to stick out more before flattening it and glancing at Marigold. Her frown remained. Then a look around at the progress and she goes back to her clipboard. After all, usually, that would be enough to get non-intellectuals out of her hair.

 
Last edited:

Skyswimsky*

❮ Narrator ❯
Staff
Messages
116
Gold
900
Mastery
450
Valor
0
Event
0
Special
0
Null ???
Fineweald: Calculator Battle Site @MAI

Technically, the damaged remains of what was left of the mechanical construct known as The Calculator would allow MAI easy access to simulating a signal similar to the two Magia they had fought before. Like firing a beacon in the darkest of nights, attracting someone's, anyone's, attention in the hope for... well, something?

Yet... as seconds turned into minutes that could then be counted by the hours, she would find whatever hopes she had left crushed. Utter disappointment. .... Though there really wasn't any harm in just keeping the signal alive? Maybe, just maybe...

So, the hours became days as MAI busied herself with one of many other tasks around Finwaeld that demanded her attention. The static noise of the PING beacon turned into just another sound that her brain tuned out. Just how someone living in a big city got accustomed to the continuous commotion of a main street...

That was, until the ping was suddenly gone. MAI couldn't even be how long ago it happened. Just now? Minutes? Hours? Did it matter? Something had happened to the equipment so carefully set up! Something that re-ignited the embers of hope for any answer whatsoever. She only had to hurry over... right?

...

"Oh my oh my oh. My! If it isn't one of my most favorite Magia!" Null spoke, as the machinery of their battlefield - or what had been left of it - had been reduced to nothing more but a metallic cube. As if put through a scrap metal press. "Was it yoooouuu who put up that teeny tiny device? That, most wonderful, suicide signal? If so... you. Should. Count yourself ab-so-lu-tely lucky that I, Null, got here first! Or else... you might have been in for the most rudest of awakenings!" As Null spoke, she was as expressive as ever. Her hands moved with each syllable as to accentuate her words.

But! I. Am most assured that you didn't do this simply because you missed me? Which, of course, does break my little heart!


Mai had Null precisely where she wanted her...?
 
Last edited:
T

Toko

Guest
Explorers League


AP: 0/3, 1 AP spent
Location: Surrounding Area: Vintergard
Prompt: Magia Without a Cause
Narrator Tag: N/A




Regulators, terrifyingly mobile glass canons able to wreck though a party if they weren't careful on their approach. Plenty of encampments had fallen to them in the past and, while Szofrit's missing influence had certainly affected these units, they were still quite deadly even if their guiding beacon was no longer present... and one of these was currently the bane to a pair of MIT researchers wishing access to the Dragonship.

"Alright... I just have to not get hit, ne?"

The look on the faerin's face as the oversimplified summary of the lepus almost had his elven assistant cracking out a laugh, a hand pressing against her lips to suppress it as she merely nodded in affirmation to the adventurer. The Guild's members were something else, that's for sure...

"Gotcha, I'll deal with it then—"
"Without damaging the core, please!"
"Hai haaaii, no hitting the core."

He'd finally found his voice as the hare had palmed her fist in preparation, causing Toko's eyes to roll lightly as she was reminded for what felt like the umpteenth time to not pummel the core that powered the magitech unit. Sure, that made things slightly complicated... but nothing that the fighter didn't felt like she couldn't handle.

"Junbi?"
{ Of course, I am always ready. }
"Saah, ikooyo!"

True to their reputation the machine gave Toko a run for her money, surprising the confident lepus as a fully charged beam managed to nick the fighter on her shoulder when she was a bit too slow getting out of its way. However that didn't deter the adventurer from her mission, and when she found an opening the hare recklessly charged right on through. A solid impact to the chest of the machine brought it down to the ground, vines erupting to trap it on place, before her hands reached for the glowing core on its head.

"Gomen..."

She wasn't sure what to make of these machines yet, so distinct from the magia players the hare was accustomed to, but letting them run rampant simply wasn't a option they could indulge on. Her fingers gripped onto the blue orb tightly, ignoring the pain as the object began to heat up in response, before a solid tug ripped the object right out of its resting place as the machine powered down.


❰ Rolls & Summary ❱

I'm sick so post is short, Toko helping out clear a regulator so MIT researchers have better access to one of the entries of the dragonship. Gains +1 Wandering Point.

❰ Expertise Check ❱
1d100 (29) + 25 + 25 = +79
MR: S Martial Arts & WR: S | Magias w/o a Cause | Toko | 1815

 
Last edited by a moderator:
Messages
75
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
7
Event
0
Special
0
Working Man
An old duty



AP: 0/3
1 AP spent.
Location:
Surrounding area/ on the bridge between Astorea and Tertoria,
Prompt:
The Starforged Bridge
Narrator Tag:



Taking a second, he leaned against the bridge and watched people more; it was going well; there was a steady stream of constant movement, which was good. It meant that people would have a chance to second-guess their actions at that moment. And that was good as it would keep people from falling prey to the voice telling them to end it all and feed the abyss. He had lived with his voice for a while and had a better handle on it than most, which meant he could keep them moving. Blowing out another long gust of smoke as he watched them move and shook his head; this was a mess, one that only happened because he had been more active over the year. He had spent most of it drinking and pretending that the voice telling him something was happening was only because of his death and that it didn't have anything to do with the state of the world, and at the bottom of his bottle, he hadn't found peace and someone had blown up half of the kingdom. It was a mark of failure on his record, one that he couldn't shake off hell; sometimes, he thought about retiring properly. Find someone to sit down with and farm crops in this game instead of risking death repeatedly, but then he remembers the scent of blue roses, and that train of thought dies.

So he took another pull from his pipe as he watched them pass; it was a collection of people that had suffered a great deal because of our actions, and at the moment, the crown didn't have anyone at its head. They would need to work quickly at this moment to reestablish trust with the other kingdoms and to make sure the capital and the country itself didn't lose too many people that it went belly up. As much as he liked to pretend he didn't have a heart, they couldn't focus too much on the refugee problem without making proper connections to other nations. No country could stand on its own for long, and one that didn't have trade was even worse. But he had to leave that for the others, turning his attention back on the crowd and the safety measures he had already put in place to handle the number of people moving through the place.

He could hear the muttering under his breath as they walked while the bridge might not have been that long, they still had been walking for a while, and that wore down the shoes. Each step they took would hurt after some time, and that was something that he would need to consider again. They need every reason to keep walking forward, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out another set of seeds bending down so he would be at eye level with most of the children before he timed his throw, sending those seeds underfoot to be mashed into the bridge. Which in turn would sprout with a little bit of magic in them to make that section of the bridge a bit softer. It would make it easier for them to get past his area and onto the other.


Rolls


Worked on making the bridge a bit softer for people to walk on after hearing the weight it was taking on people.

Mastery Check
1d100 (88) + 25 = 113
Hyper Sense | Aalam Abungu | Thread Code

 

Madison Mortiere

Magia
H
NG+
Messages
171
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
34
Event
0
Special
0


AP:: 1/3
Location: Eastern Brisshal
Prompt: Beware! Brisshal!
Narrator Tag:



"Hold, Starcalled!"

My fingers twitched, but the three of us did as we were told. And only because there were five of them. Dressed in the colors that stated that, for all intents and purposes, they were the enemy. Clad in armor and wielding weapons that also lamented their poor preparation in being so.

I allow my shadow-wrapped left hand to fall to the grip of one of my guns. "I don't have time for this. Get the hell out of our way."

The leader of the patrol shot a hungry glare over my shoulder at the two magia who stood there, confused and afraid. "Their kind ain't allowed in these lands anymore. You know this, Lion."

"And they didn't, before they fell. You're forgiven for not knowing that local politics aren't included in the welcome pamphlet."

Several patrolmen began fanning out, their hands moving to their own weapons. Swords, axes, daggers. The usual fare. I clocked each of them in my mind, and turned my attention back towards their leader. "I swear to god, I'm not in the mood." Not any of Terrasphere's gods; but the Christian God--who I know is also fake. But it's still extremely fun to blaspheme!

"You're a woman of the law," he spat right back. "So you know magia are illegal in Brisshal."

"Starcalled don't get to choose where we drop."

One by one, the patrol began to draw their weapons. I could feel the heat bleeding off the two magia as they drew closer to me, their eyes darting around, their little mechanical hearts whirring faster and faster in fear.

My fingers squeeze tight around the grip of my revolver. "I'm escorting them to an outpost for supplies. And then to Astorea.

"Can't risk it, Lion," one of them said as the sun above glinted off the blade of a dagger.

Okay! So we're doing this, then?

Deadeye blinks on. I draw my gun, thumb the hammer back, and take aim. Fire and thunder erupt, and a bullet tears through the air towards the flat of the poor fuck's weapon. In an explosion of steel of sparks, the upper half of the dagger flies away and falls harmlessly into the grass.

Now, I know this goes against the genre. Swords n' shit are supposed to be strong enough to cut through tanks! And it's well documented that bladed weapons can cut bullets in half--I've seen the YouTube clips. But I've dumped enough points into very specific masteries that I've earned the ability and right to flip the script.

The patrolman stood there, dumbfounded, the shattered weapon in his hand. "Stand aside," I growled.

Another took that as his cue to try his luck. Another bullet from my gun snapped his hand axe clean in half.

"Stand aside," I repeated, putting a little extra stink on each syllable. "I am getting them to Astorea. Whether its by going past you or through you makes no difference to me."

A third moved to draw his sword from its sheathe. A third bullet whizzed by his knuckles and kicked up a cloud of dirt and grass not far off. Thus began a moment of tense silence while the patrol weighed their options.

"Alright, get a move on," their leader finally said, stepping aside. His cohort followed suit, their faces twisted in impotent anger.

"Much obliged," I said, ushering the two magia down the road towards Honeyhome.

Rolls


Attempt to disarm and spook a wandering Falderen patrol

Mastery Check 1d100 (3) + 25 + 20 = 48
Ranged Weapons | Madison Freebird | 1815

 

Asher

❮ Shield of Hope ❯
B
Messages
82
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
5
Event
0
Special
0


AP: 2/3 ( 1 AP Used )
Location: Fineweald, The Exhausted Capital
Prompt: Rebuild Stronger
Narrator Tag: - -


In his old life, he hadn't read much. Books had never really been something he was interested in. Hell, when he started playing TerraSphere, he didn't read any missives that were given to him and shuttered his ears when NPCs gave blatant back-story about why they needed this one specific cow returned to the barn.

But in his old life, his brother did read. Fervently. Every time they were around one another, he had another book in his hand and he was rambling about another series that he had completed, something about character motivation and morality and falling in love with the villain against his will. It was horseshit to Kristoph's ears, something that he bullied the younger more impressionable man about constantly.

And now, he could remember his brother talking about the end of days; when the sun would explode and the skein of the world would harden and nothing would grow from the ground. Humanity would turn on one another and society as they knew it would crumble until there was nothing left. And they were forced to start over.

Standing here, in the ruins of what once was a great city, Asher can feel the weight of those words in his memory. This felt apocalyptic. The silence, the destroyed buildings, the bits that were recovered be it books, stuffed animals, or...bodies.

He shudders and drops his eyes, his lips pressing into a thin line while his scared fingers and weather-worn hands curled into fists at his sides. There was no time for him to sit here and ruminate, to think about what it meant to survive an event like this. There were people to find, buildings to erect, and workstations to clear. It was better to keep moving than to stand around like an idiot with his thumb up his ass. He could think about the end of the world another day, when people weren't depending on him to haul these bricks out of the way and clear the partially collapsed stairway so they could look for survivors.

Grunting with exertion, he goes to do just that, allowing the strain of his muscles and the heavy grunt of his breath to cloud his thoughts.

Rolls


Asher is somewhere deep in the city, helping to clear out collapsed buildings to look for survivors or evidence that people hadn't survived. Currently, he's working on clearing a collapsed staircase so a different group of lions can investigate the building for wounded, lost, dead, or missing.

Mastery Check
1d100 (94) + 10 + 10 = 114
Metamorph | Asher | Rebuild Stronger

 

Pandora*

❮ Narrator ❯
Staff
Messages
253
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
0
Event
0
Special
0
OOC
Storage
Narrator Domains: Shonen-esque Mahou Shoujo, Sci-Fi, Psychological, SRPG, Battle Design
ACTIVE WORLD
Camp Hope IV+ / .D.E.S. Astorea Branch: Stars of the Land @Seigi Ling Ling

The people who chose to work here were specifically chosen.

The workers here were handed tools and given careful instruction by a D.E.S. member with a hard hat. Yes, it is a surprisingly normal-looking hardhat if not for the symbol of Tria stuck on its front. It contrasted with the outfit she wore terribly but... Tertorian stylistic choice maybe?

Several translucent spheres were filled with radiant light by another D.E.S. member Her body glowing brightly and dimming only to glow again for each. Sweat came down her face as she charged them up perhaps?

A large area had been flattened out. A circle of steel hovered high above the cleared ground. It looked like this eventual building would be quite a magical place indeed.

Seigi would feel the force coming from the floating "steel halo" to be so strong it made approaching it difficult at first. It probably held some sort of dissonance-repelling properties. The pale azure light that ran through it was not just magic... it was a combination of things it was...

Back in the battle against Titanius, it was the era of the tinkerer and gadgeteer. It was only somewhat noticeable that Tertoria had advanced technology and unknown magics hidden from the rest of humanity by Ella's Barrier. People such as Maximilian and Priscilla would appear so similar at first glance to a knight or noble from Falderen. Now after the battle with the Mother of Machines was over. Such oddities stuck out even more to the keen eye and have found a name.

Here be Magitech.

I'm looking for Saya, Kiri, Des?"


A single worker, a young man with broad shoulders and a tight muscle shirt looked, stopped, and looked again at her. He wasn't wearing enough weaponry or adventure-savvy eyes to be AG, so he must have been from Gardibrook's crew.

"Lady Saya? She hasn't been seen for a year now I think. Maybe longer. I don't know who Kiri is..."

He stopped at the mention of Des Weiss.

"Wow, you need to meet the Star Maiden? Uh, good luck hahaha! She's the defender of the world! I don't think she'll just pop up at a construction site! But there are Star Chosen here if you haven't noticed lady! Maybe you should ask them if you need some help!"

The dopey-eyed fellow laughed again and moved on.

...time also moved on.

 
Last edited:

Jin

H
Messages
324
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
35
Event
0
Special
0


AP:: 0/3
1 AP spent
Location:
Camp !Hope
Prompt:
Camp EX+ Champion Edition Redux
Narrator Tag:

N/A



The fact that they were able to restore the Encampment so quickly was a testament to the group's resourcefulness as well as their power. Unfortunately, though they seemed to be friendly enough to Astorea in the time following the Magia debacle, it was clear that the group only became interested once the Starcalled Nation seemed to be teetering. He misliked the readiness with which a new, unknown power made themselves available to a floundering one, if only because it screamed of hegemonic intent. How long, he wondered, would the Playerbase retain their autonomy?

Certainly, his doubts were not without merit, but if asked, the political masterminds behind Astorea would swear up and down that no such dangers were on the horizon. He didn't bother to ask around or dig into it. The truth would make itself known in due time. He knew all too well that he was not the only one to benefit from a well-timed lie.

He frowned at the sight of the two behemoth sentinels who watched over the young women, all clearly garbed in the raiment of their faith. If he strained to hear them speak, between talk revolving around their current duties and murmured words of faith, he came to understand them to be of the Faith of Tria. It meant little to him, all told- the gods of this world were a fickle sort, only interested in things that stoked their interest in the moment. What concerned him was the nature of their faith, and the levels of tolerance they had toward the eccentric.

Would he be forced to continue hiding his Magicks and Curses from public knowledge, or was it too late? If these believers became aware of just what the Bloodsworn was, would they leave him unbothered?

He finally finished glancing over the group and moved to join the Adventurers who had found work rebuilding and replenishing the armory, fortifying the walls, and working in tandem with the other organizations to ensure that this new and improved facility would be better than any previous iteration.

Jin frowned.

All of it seemed... too easy.

Rolls


Jin made a cursory assessment of the newly fortified position, careful to note what specifications he could, but also wary of the strange new occupants. He isn't sure what to make of the Clergy.

1d100 (6) = 6
Jin | Camp EX+ | 1815

 

Chrys

❮ Stalwart Defender ❯
H
NG+
Messages
408
Gold
2,260
Mastery
3,720
Valor
63
Event
0
Special
0
OOC
Storage
@Veilwalker
《⋯《 ⋯ ❖ ⋯ 》⋯》
Adventurers Guild

AP: 2/3 (-1)
Location: Vintergard
Prompt: Magias without a Cause
Narrator Tag: N/A

Ah, Vintergard. Land of the free...real estate. Much has happened since the events with Szofrit. Much can happen in 3 hours. Much can happen when you don't really take note of what is happening. And at the moment, as Chrystopheles Vintergardson was standing alone, surrounded by three rogue magia enemies, much was happening in his head. I whip my hair back and forth I whip my hair back and forth I whip my hair back and forth I whip— Okay, scratch that. Let's just focus on what's happening outside of the massive mountain man's small brain then:

Cold steel dragged themselves closer, their "eyes" glued on the towering prey before them. One of the metallic troublemakers spouted an unintelligible noise, and the biggest of the three, the one behind Chrystopheles Vintergardson, charged straight at the adventurer, hurling their heavy frame at the lone capitalist, only to smash itself into an outcropping of hard earth that rose from out of nowhere, protecting its fleshy target.

The remaining two screeched like your most hated professor's nails on a chalkboard before rushing at Chrystopheles Vintergardson. The armored adventurer extended his arms, as if he was a conductor about to steer an orchestra into a masterpiece of a medley. Almost immediately, two earthen spikes sprouted from the ground, smashing one of the charging steel bulls into oblivion, though the other dodged it barely.

Chrystopheles Vintergardson smiled: Finally, a worthy adversary.

With a garbled battle cry, the motherless machine aimed an appendage at Chrystopheles Vintergardson, aiming to pound him and his soft flesh into oblivion, or at least goop, but this half-broken minion didn't know that its quarry had already been punched by the Hardest of Plumes and Tony Stark learns from his mistakes.

Chrystopheles Vintergardson took the punch but did not resist, allowing the attack's momentum to simply go through him as he moved it around to augment his own attack, a pummeling fist to the machine's would-be face, a punch enhanced by the very earth itself. I whip my hair back and forth I whip my hair back and forth I whip my hair back and forth I whip— And then there was one.

As the dust settled, only Chrystopheles Vintergardson remained standing, once again proving that the Pokemon Type stuff works in this game, too: Ground-types deal double damage on Steel-types, and the God of Rocks is the Groundsiest of all the Ground-types. (Don't DM me if I'm wrong: it's been a while since I played Pokemon.)

Rolls

Knocking out rogue magias with the sheer power of my fists. And the rocks inside my fists. And maybe more rocks outside of my fists. Basically just rocks and fists pounding on robots.

Roll Result
1d100 (38) +25 + +20 = 83
Aura | Chrys | Magias Without A Cause

 

Rael

❮ Lore Seeker ❯
E
Messages
275
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
10
Event
0
Special
0
OOC
Harmonia
Independent Agent
Storyteller, Scribe & Record Keeper for hire.


AP: 1/3
-2AP for Potential Narrator Response​
Location:
Camp Hope IV+​
Prompt:
Camp EX+ Champion Edition Redux​
Narrator Tag:



More often than not, she laments over the consequences of her choice.

Rael had been quick to scold Luthien over her brash insults and words of disagreement aimed at the Lander who would be considered her superior, just as she had been slow to conceive of the aftermath of a future she had briefly glimpsed at through rose-colored glasses.

She labors, day after day after day, to keep her mind from wandering into the obvious. She convinces herself that, maybe, if the research on Szofrit would not yield results to outweigh the catastrophe befallen unto their universe, then all her work eventually would.

Second-guessing herself has become a habit as of late, the elf soon recognizes. The sweet rush of victory only ever lasts long enough to hold her hope at bay, but reality soon follows, and with it, its reminders of the grim fate many had suffered for an end she had deemed worthwhile.

And yet, it yields no answers to their problems.

"Excuse me, I..." Her hand gently falls upon the forearm of another, Lander or Starcalled, the distinction no longer important. Words of their faith accompany the announcement of their arrival, one name resounding above it all. "Would you talk to me about Her? I hope I am not taking much of your time."

Her interest in the gods had been superficial at best. Another told made up by the game to function as on-demand aid to players who wished to fulfill a certain fantastical stereotype, or those who needed a semblance of faith in this world as much as they did in the next. But others, trapped or not in this game, sought their answers in the heavens and she couldn't help but feel the need to at least try.

"Or direct me to someone who would know in more depth of Tria, and her rites. I feel like... I should at least show proper gratitude."


Rolls


— Action: Rael is walking around Camp Hope, asking the newly arrived forces for specifics on their worship of Tria, in order to make a prayer herself.​

Roll Result
1d100 (11) = 11
Rael | Camp EX+ | 1815


Roll Result
1d100 (32) = 32
Rael | Adv. Roll | Camp EX+ | 1815

 

Harper

B
Messages
240
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
23
Event
0
Special
0


AP:: 1/3 (2 AP Spent)
Location:
Hall of Heroes, Finweald.
Prompt:
Training Session
Narrator Tag:
@Pandora*




It had been a while since Harper had logged back into Terrasphere. The whole ordeal with Szofrit had left her quite exhausted mentally, and between the stuff outside of the game and whatever was happening inside of it, Harper would always pick the former. Still, she couldn't deny that a part of her was curious about how things were going after the conflict, and there were certainly a lot of people who could appreciate her help.

She didn't exactly feel like seeing Vintergard all that soon after what happened, given that from what she heard it was still crawling with baddies and the tigress would rather not have to punch any magia any time soon. Thus she found herself walking by Finweald, watching the restoration efforts and giving aid with her strength whenever aplicable. It was quite relaxing really, given that it was much like a walk in the park. Only that this walk involved some occasional physical labor.

Yet, going around the city really made the beastkin notice the destruction that Szofrit's schemes had wrought upon the world. There were so many buildings, houses and structures that had been devastated by the attack and only so many manpower to repair them. Finweald had truly been left in a fragile state, and people were just barely managing to start patching it back up.


"Ugh..." Harper's hand covered her face, the tigress shaking her head softly. The doubt about her choice was creeping back in, much to her annoyance. This really wasn't what she came back to the game to do. As such, she decided to distance herself from the repair efforts for the time being, being naturally attracted to one of the few places who didn't get hit as hard by the attack: The Hall of Heroes.

But it was not within the hall that Harper would finally find something to get her mind out of its current rut, but rather outside of it, the beastkin stumbling upon the training knight as she got closer to the building. Harper didn't really know Sarina outside of her being one of the Landers she fought Szofrit with, but it was not any sense of familiarity that brought Harper's interests towards her.

She had gone and fought to the death a good lot the last time she found herself in this game. Maybe something more casual was just what she needed to get back into peak condition.

"Oiiii! Long time no see, uh... Sarah, was it? In any case, nice training routine you got there!"

She'd walk closer with a wave of her arm, the tigress brandishing a smile at the knight. "But you know... Air, wood, bags, all that stuff feels good to hit but its not like it can fight back, right?" She would shrug with her shoulders, before flashing a confident smirk at Sarina. "Well, you are here, and I am here now. What do you say about letting iron sharpen iron?"

If Sarina was to refuse her invitation she wouldn't push it, but Harper hoped that the knight was willing to spar with her for a while, the tigress seeking some relaxation from her troubles in the form of martial combat.

Rolls


Harper goes around Finweald once she finally logs back into TS to see how things are going, starts thinking about the choice to spar Szofrit and gets into a bad mood, seeks to stop said bad mood by offering to help with Sarina's training.

 
Messages
48
Gold
1,500
Mastery
175
Valor
0
Event
0
Special
0


AP:: 0/3 1 AP spent
Location:
Hall of Heroes
Prompt: For a Better Tomorrow
Narrator Tag: N/A



There were scattered shouts of wonder from the children as Zera lumbered into the room. Many of them had never seen a human as big as he was and they watched him with a mix of confusion, fear, and delight. They didn't even notice the silver-haired woman standing to his left or the group of odd men and women behind him. A huge, foolish grin spread across his face and he dropped down to a squat, icy-blue eyes sparkling.

"Well well! What do we have here! Nice to meet you! I'm Zera!"


He gestured to the woman and then shot a thumb back to the individuals behind him as the Matron walked over from where she was sitting, a startled look on her face.

"This is miss Vega, and these guys are my friends."


The Matron quickly positioned herself between him and the children, staring at him with a mix of distrust and confusion. She crossed her arms. "And what is it that you want with these children, sir?" She demanded. He smiled at her, understanding her hesitation about having a strange crew of what looked like bandits roll up on an orphanage like this. He rubbed the back of his neck and stayed where he was squatting, not wanting to stand up and intimidate her. Before he could speak, though, Vega cut in.

"My Lord is here to provide some support for these children by helping expand the building and build furniture, miss."


Zera winced, but it was too late. He glanced over at Vega with a 'why would you do that?' look but the warrior only offered him a lopsided smile of 'deal with it'. The Matron blinked a few times, unable to believe what she was hearing. "L-Lord?! Y-you're serious?"

Zera got to his feet and extended a shovel-sized hand to her;

"They may look like a rough bunch, but they all used to be craftsmen and laborers from Falderen. Give 'em time and we'll turn this place into a palace! WAHAHA!"


The woman looked pale, "I-I'll need to inform the other attendants that you're here. A-and we don't have any money-"

"My Lord is here to help, not to do business, miss."


The Matron nodded quickly, still too shocked about what was happening to react properly, and hurried off to gather the other attendants for the children. The kids stared on, not knowing fully what was happening. Zera grit his teeth and chastised Vega in a low voice, his face flush;

"Would you quit it with 'My Lord'?"


"I am a knight, My Lord. As I am at your service, that makes you my Lord. Sir. What Knight would serve anything but a Lord?"


Zera groaned and one of the ex-bandits behind him walked over and slapped their new boss on the back, laughing heartily. "She's got you there, boss! Hahah!" The others started to chortle and began to spread out around the outside of the building to get a good idea of what they were working with. It would take some time to make this large enough and comfortable enough to accomodate the orphans from the battle.

Zera scratched his chin and let out a huff, shaking his head at a bemused looking Vega and sat down on the ground, looking at the kids now. A few of them hurried over and began peppering him with questions. "Are you a giant?" "Is that lady really your knight?" "Are you gonna fix our home?" "Why are you so big?" "Can I get that big?" "Those guys are scary looking." "Your knight is really pretty."

Zera, awash with the questions, held up his hands as he tried to keep up, looking to Vega for support. She just turned away and covered her mouth with a 'pfft'. He facefaulted, ah, so that's how today was going to go.

Rolls


Zera arrives at the orphanage and offers to help improve the facilities. He and his team begin their work which will take some time.

Roll Result
1d100 (26) = 26
Zera | Charity | Lions for Cubs

 

Imoogi

Magia
B
NG+
Messages
130
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
7
Event
0
Special
0
OOC
Storage
Tarkya


AP:: 0/3 (1 AP spent)
Location: MIT Headquarters
Prompt: For Science!!!
Narrator Tag: N/A



Setting up lab equipment was a tricky business. Imoogi had grown familiar with the stuff available in Terrasphere, but the MIT equipment was something else. Their tools were almost modern, and she found herself a little jealous of the fact they could afford it.

Fuck, they had microscopes. She'd slipped some hair under a lens during a break and taken the time to marvel at a quality that seemed better than real world ones. There was probably some kind of magic or magitech involved.

Imoogi at least vaguely paid attention to the instructions given by the MIT officials keeping an eye on them, but most of her work was by intuition. She used this sort of stuff all the time now, and it wasn't that hard to set up a distillation rig or calibrate thermometers. And the few mistakes she'd made were easily fixed by others. No shocks or blood yet. Some of the other people on the team couldn't say the same.

Rolls


Helping set up new equipment in the labs.

Expertise Check
1d100 (29) + 25 = 54
Knack | Imoogi | For Science!!!

 

Pandora*

❮ Narrator ❯
Staff
Messages
253
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
0
Event
0
Special
0
OOC
Storage
Narrator Domains: Shonen-esque Mahou Shoujo, Sci-Fi, Psychological, SRPG, Battle Design
Sarina Knights Lions Pride
Hall of Heroes: Training Session @Harper
WHACK!
BAM!!
POW!!!!
CRUNCH!!!!
WHACK HARDERRRRRR!!!!!!

The training dummy's head spun at a high-speed blur as the twin tailed brunette spun her staff and straightened her back. She bit her lip a little as she watched it but didn't look terribly happy with even that result. She lifted her staff out some and with a few finger taps in the air the weapon vanished.

It looked quite... not powerful.

'Childress or Lady Saya would of torn this thing clean off with no effort at all. Damn it, that boss didn't give me a lick of experience!"


"Oiiii! Long time no see, uh... Sarah, was it? In any case, nice training routine you got there!"


'Huh?"


Sarina turned her head towards Harper. She had a bit of sweat on her forehead. She had been at it for a while. As the head kept spinning, she smiled.

'It's Sarina actually. Can I help ya?"


It wasn't uncommon for civilians to come to her at all hours of the day and ask for help with anything. From a cat in a tree to dealing with an orc raid party. The first was not no problemo, but the second could use some work... probably.

It was then that the Tigress said something cool as fuck.

She wanted to hit things too!

"Heh... I see. I can't reach my goals by just hitting a dummy like this, gotta agree with ya there.


She went over and grabbed the spinning head with both hands to stop it. She had no weapon on her. She smirked as she kept talking to the visitor.

"Ya know. Attacking a Lion COULD be seen as a criminal offense. Luckily this IS a training area.


holding onto the top of the dummy with one hand she turned and gave Harper a look.

A fully wrapped cheeseburger with Hylands Death Peppers materialized in her hand and she unwrapped it and took a bite. Her energy levels filled up quickly.

Finishing it in record time. She licked her fingers and eyed the tiger with the eye of a lion.

"Well? Come and get me? I wanna see what you've got random battle."


New Prompts Discovered!


(2 AP) Lions and Tigers!: Enter battle training with Sarina Knights. By joining this prompt you can battle Sarina and any others also using this prompt in the current AP cycle! Raising this prompt's tracker will improve Sarina Knight's abilities in certain appearances.
  • Roll a Fitness Check OR a Mastery check+WR. [ 0/1000 ]
(Unlocks at "Lions and Tigers!"=500) Unlocks a future Side Event.

Prompt: Training Session has been replaced.



 
Last edited:

Pandora*

❮ Narrator ❯
Staff
Messages
253
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
0
Event
0
Special
0
OOC
Storage
Narrator Domains: Shonen-esque Mahou Shoujo, Sci-Fi, Psychological, SRPG, Battle Design
ACTIVE WORLD
Camp Hope IV+ / .DE.S. Atorea Branch: Camp EX+ Champion Edition Redux @Rael


"Or direct me to someone who would know in more depth of Tria, and her rites. I feel like... I should at least show proper gratitude."


The man whose arm was grabbed looked at the elf and shrugged. As an AG member he only knew so much. Frankly he couldn't care less.

"Fate and souls and some bull shit. Talk to one of the lolis here. The weird country has kids and teens acting like god damn adults and leaders. I'm only 30 and treated like an old man! It's hilarious. I hear it's cause they have short life spans but doesn't change the fact it's fucking weird."

He gestured towards someone in the distance but it wouldn't be clear who he meant as he wandered off to do his damn job.

...time marches on.

 
Last edited:

Asher

❮ Shield of Hope ❯
B
Messages
82
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
5
Event
0
Special
0


AP: 1/3 ( used 1 AP )
Location: Surrounding Area - Honeyhome, Brisshal
Prompt: Beware! Brisshal!
Narrator Tag: - -


Honeyhome was a place of new beginnings.

In truth, Asher couldn't recall if he started his journey here five years ago or if he landed somewhere else, somewhere not quite Honeyhome but still Brisshal. It was quiet, it was quaint, and it was—or, well, it would have been—the perfect starter zone for the new Starcalled falling from the sky.

The one problem that seemed to crop up overnight? The Falderen patrols that, at the first inquiry, seemed to enjoy rounding up some of the fresh new faces and tormenting them. Whether that meant stripping these newbies of their starter gear or merely making their lives a living hell, it was bad news for the newest players of TerraSphere all the same. And, it made Asher livid.

It's a wonder, therefore, that when he found such a group of new players, teary-eyed and screaming about it not being fair that they had to give over all their shit to these knuckleheads in plate armor, that he didn't merely kill them. And perhaps he would've; perhaps he would have charged in, taken down the leader, gotten knocked around for his troubles, but eventually made it out alive and well. But there was a single person stopping him from exacting whatever vengeance that might've come.

A tall man with red hair, blue eyes, and beautifully curved swords at his sides had stepped up to him and quickly shaken his head. Asher eyed them with a jealous flair before lifting them to @Zelrius's features, his own pinched with the need to barge into this little run-down shack where the soldiers were holding the new players hostage.

"I'm ready to go in when you are then," the Minotaur grunts, steam billowing from his nose as he snorts in anger. His fists are heavy boulders at his sides, the muscles of his thighs clenching with the ache to charge and gore. But he pushes it back, attempts to center himself, to calm the hell down instead of giving into base urges. It's more difficult than he's comfortable with admitting.

"On your mark..."

Rolls

Asher and Zelrius find a Falderen Patrol holding some new players hostage and are ready to play the hero in order to get said new players out of their sticky situation.

Mastery Check
1d100 (19) + 15 + 10 = 44
Guard Arts | Asher | Beware! Brisshal!

 

Zelrius

❮ Ale King ❯
B
Messages
216
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
13
Event
0
Special
0
Vesuvyan


AP:: 1/3 (-2 AP)
2 AP
Location: Surrounding Area -- Eastern Brisshal, Honeyhome
Prompt: Beware! Brisshal! - Trinity Emblem
Narrator Tag:
@Pandora* just so she can watch me get this emblem. no interaction necessary




The chattering of small critters, and the song of birds near and far echoing off the trees. A deep breath, in - then out. It was home, in a sort of way. Not to Markus, but to Zelrius. Months now he had been away, donig all the things that MMO players do in their usually infinite spare time, though minus the whole killing the boss a dozen times to get one rare drop or a weird title thing. First to Vintergard, then on the expedition for Wintersday, and suddenly teleported to hell in the Hylands. Back to Finweald, and the fall out of the fight with Szofrit.

This was the quiet, nostalgic place of Brisshal. Where he had first logged in, and spent much of his time wandering alone. Fighting monsters, doing odd little quests, trying to rank up in the Adventurer's guild. But it wasn't for them that he had returned. Nor his want to go back to those days. Instead, it was the concerning understanding that things were getting hairy given the recent sea of refugees fleeing Astorea in the wake of a leadership decision to spare Magia. Those who began to flood back to the monarchy, and strain the limited resources of the half-sized Kingdom, as well as spread their own ideas and viewpoints.

He took it upon himself to don his pin and twin volcanic blades, to head back to the little village of Honeyhome, and guide those to their best direction. Not alone, however. A pair of horns, and a powerfully built figure met with him, almost inspecting him. Before their eyes met. @Asher - he'd come to know this man by. One of the supposed UI Locked players, and someone with a good heart. Almost reminiscent of a golden retriever in some sense. Though much more like an angry bull at the moment, given his body language and posture. Enough so that it was infectious, putting the fireborne knight on edge.

That was most of the encouragement Zelrius needed. He gave a nod to the beastfolk, drawing out the ashen-crimson blades from either side of his hip. "Remember, measured and slowed." He tried to remind the hot-headed hero one last time. They didn't need this to spiral out of control, or to inspire a Lander vs Player revenge cycle. Easier as it would be to just kill them all. There was more at stake than that. --- Zelrius caught himself in that final moment. In his mind, seeing an image of himself, with a dark haired man behind him. With his pale grip on both his arms, moving them like one would to make a cat or puppet dance. Speaking for him in a mock voice. Realizing in that moment that @Jin might have more of an influence on him than he might have initially thought.

Shaking away the oncoming shiver that thought brought, the Adventurer tried to ground himself. Foot on the door with Asher, until the two could exert enough pressure to send it flipping into the darkness of the rest of the building on the count of three.

---

With fire, sword, fist and the strength of a bull, a low patrol was easy enough to deal with. There was some injuries in the chaos, sustained both by himself, and some of those being held hostage. Some of those in the patrol died, but many were disarmed or left unconscious. He took a moment to catch his breath, letting the red and orange flames flicker down into embers in the ground. A glance and smile over at what he considered to be a new friend in this strange man took his expression.

"Good enough?" jokingly wondering if his earlier bloodlust was sated.


Rolls


Asher and Zelrius find a Falderen Patrol holding some new players hostage and are ready to play the hero in order to get said new players out of their sticky situation. They succeed,

Mastery Check
1d100 (80) + 25 = 105
Pyromancy | Zelrius | Beware! Brisshal!

Trinity Emblem roll
Roll Result
1d100 (83) = 83
Zelrius tries to find a Trinity Emblem

 
Messages
75
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
7
Event
0
Special
0
Working Man
An old duty



AP: 2/3
1 AP spent.
Location:
Surrounding area/ on the bridge between Astorea and Tertoria,
Prompt:
The Starforged Bridge
Narrator Tag:



It was going well, well it was going better than he expected to be honest, so far he had been able to keep most of them on the same track moving forward without too much stumbling, and it seemed that the part of the bridge that he had been able to reinforce was doing well. They stopped people from staying in one place for too long and let the voices in their heads convince them to risk it and jump, which was something he was happy with—a job that he was doing and a job that was being done well. The capital was a mess, and the kingdom was still rebuilding, but other people would be able to help with that, be able to use magic to build it back faster; there were limits to what he would be able to do while reminding a man in the background of all of this. But it was clear to him that he couldn't remain inactive at this moment if too much happened that he didn't keep abreast of something like this could happen again. "Damn you, Astor, and being a good person." He pushed more magic into the vines growing on the bridge; they would help the flower keep up, and a few of those buds glowed in a warm color. Something that would help people feel free and comfortable but nothing that would make them riot or worry. He needed to work against that feeling in their head, telling them they would asll fail.

Damn it, he was tired; this job didn't get any easier when the Night broke apart, and it didn't get any easier when the Guard was disbanded. The country needed people that were going to play in a way that put it first instead of winning, but the Old Guard was gone, retired to someplace and resting a well-earned rest, and he couldn't ask them for help but the new ones, other than one or two people they were new to this death game new to this world. Some of them were hungry some of them were driven in a way that he wasn't when he was younger. Reaching into his pocket as he checked the number of seeds on him, his bow was hidden on the other side of the bridge, and he hadn't brought his quiver with him because carrying weapons on something like this might cause panic among the people. They needed to see the kingdom as welcoming, and he needed to ensure that nothing happened to this bridge. He shook his head until he could pick out a voice; the one was young, someone on the verge of tears. A child that had been caught up in all of this and a crying child was something that tuned most moods sour on the best of days. A day like this may tax a person too much, which could lead to a chain reaction. He could wait for that to happen, so he moved. Reaching into his pocket, he let his fingers move through the seed he had and pulled out the one he had worked on the longest. It was one that had been perfected a long time ago and one that he could grow at a moment's notice, so when he bent down at the child, as soon as those tears were starting to fall, he held a full rose. A rose that was blue and as deep as the ocean, one that, no matter how well you turned it, the color seemed to deepen and grow. It was like the ocean itself in the palm of his hand. "Now there, no need to cry on the next side. We will have a hot meal, and you have been so strong to get this far; you need to go a little further, ok?" He waited there with that little one as their mother until they stopped crying as he pushed him on his way.

"Would you have been proud of me, Ezra, or am I a fool?......" He just shook his head as he watched the child leave, and something pushed itself out his throat as he moved back into the crowd. A tone he whistled into the air. Even though he didn't have the talent for harmonics, he could still sing an old tone. "Cold: The air and water flowing. Hard: the land we call our home,"


Rolls


Helping those with young children cross the bridge as he works to get them across and seeding a marching tone into the crowd.

Mastery Check
1d100 (44) + 25 = 69
Hyper Sense | Aalam Abungu | Thread Code

 
Messages
25
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
0
Event
0
Special
0


AP:: 2/3 1 AP spent
Location: Hall of Heroes
Prompt: To the Fallen
Narrator Tag: N/A



Catherine shook hands with yet another young woman, the poor thing barely containing her tears. She numbly smiled and had one of the acolytes somewhere to sit and get a drink of water. Standing here, talking with these people. It was the least she could do. She wondered how many more widows she would have to meet today. The reading of names had taken some time and it had exhausted those who had been watching, every single face was emotionally draining to even look at.

She rubbed her neck as a clerk approached with a haggard face and offered her a respectful bow. "Priestess, I know you are tired, but there are some veterans who would like to meet with you."

Catherine looked him in the eyes, he seemed to feel guilty he was even asking her. She smiled and pat his shoulder gently before making her way in the direction he had come from. She had still not changed out of her vestments and so her robes trailed a little behind her as she walked. She kept her posture relaxed, a habit from attempting to emulate the other priests back at the temple. Yet when she saw the small gathering of lander soldiers standing with their starcalled leader, she paused.

Without hesitation she firmed up and approached them with purposeful strides before snapping to a crisp stance and offering them all a salute with her fist across her chest. She looked each of them in the eye and could see their sorrow ease, if just a little. She offered them smiles and returned to at ease before inclining her head. The starcalled who had been their leader during the fighting walked over and handed her a set of what looked like uniform carved pieces of steel.

"What are these?" She asked.

"Grommel's sword broke during the fighting. The pieces are all we got of him," The starcalled said sadly, "We trimmed them down to look the same and put holes in them. We'd... like you to bless them."

Catherine blinked, looking down at the precious things, "I'm... not a high priest gentlemen. I'm not allowed to-"

"Please, priestess," All of them said as one, bowing at the waist. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes before letting out a sigh.

"I can do a simple prayer and use some of my personal magic, it won't be a blessing from a high priest," Catherine warned.

"Forgive me for sayin' ma'am. But there wasn't no high priests besides durin' the battle," One lander said a bit gruffly, "You was."

Catherine swallowed and set her jaw before nodding and looking down at the shards of metal in her hands. She held her hands out and lowered to her knees, closing her eyes and letting herself fill with divine power. The holy light rising up from her chest and wrapping around her holy symbol. A small permanent protection enchantment was the best she could do, she wasn't exactly experienced in blessing magic yet. Even so, she prayed.

"Goddess of Justice, Queen of Law, She who holds civilization in her hand. This servant of your Courts humbles herself before your gavel and places her heart on your scale. Goddess be praised! You brought law to chaos of our realm," The light began to drift from the holy symbol towards her palms.

"You are just, you are fair, your unseeing gaze does not bend for those who would twist your word. Empower your servant, O Beauteous Judge, and grant her the power to bless these shards, so that in the memory of the Martyr Grommel, who fell protecting your beloved civilization. That they may protect who he left behind..." The light suffused the shards, a glimmer forming around them before fading, leaving an almost imperceptable golden gleam around them.

Catherine felt her strength waver and she let out a breath, finding the energy to pull herself to her feet and bow her head towards the veterans. She held out the shards with a smile; "Take them."

She saw the men off after a quiet exchange and threw herself onto a bench nearby, catching her breath. That took out of her more than she had expected.

Rolls


Catherine invokes Edora in blessing some mementos of a fallen soldier.

1d100 (65) = 65
Prayer | Catherine | To the Fallen | Advantage Roll

 
Messages
75
Gold
0
Mastery
0
Valor
7
Event
0
Special
0
Working Man
An old duty



AP: 1/3
1 AP spent.
Location:
Surrounding area/ on the bridge between Astorea and Tertoria,
Prompt:
The Starforged Bridge
Narrator Tag:



He could feel the wear in him, his body working, and how he was slowing down; this was taking a lot out of him. It was talking a lot of magic to keep the bridge the way it was, and it was taking even more out of him, running his hand through his beard and letting his eyes linger on the scars over those palms. It was a reminder of how long he had been playing this game at this point, and hold long he had turned those pain filters off that his body was now a scared mess, and yet he didn't mind that. No, the things that kept him up at night were his failures when trying to do better, the times he had fallen short, and the times he had let him pass him by because he had been a coward. Those were the things he regretted, and now he could let those things happen to him again; there was always that chance he might fail, but he was on his last life before the game locked him in before he wouldn't be able to log out anymore and yet he was still here playing. So far, the bridge was holding, and his railing was turning back anyone that seemed to slow down too much.

He took a long pull from his pipe, letting that smoke fill his lungs as he leaned back on the bridge before pushing the smoke out of his mouth into the air. So many of them had come over the bridge at this point that he had lost count of the number of them and their general state of them, but he was still able to pick out the ones that were the most damaged. The ones that were just on the edge of breaking down into a show of tears, and he popped out of the crowd with a flower or a few of his rations to keep them going as he moved down the line and then back into the group. He needed to keep them moving to the other side, the other side; some people could help them deal with that voice in the back of their heads. Some people were better than him at his, but at least he could keep the tone. "Push to keep the dark from coming; feel the weight of what we owe."

So he put his throat into the song as he moved, pushing the tone into the crowd and working into their steps, letting their feet be the bass he needed while stepping on that bridge. He would keep up the song as he moved and keep pushing magic to keep them moving forward. He needed to keep their mind off of what they lost and needed to keep them moving across the bridge. While it was working so far, there was a limit to his ability to work magic, to keep them moving before the collapse.

" This: the song of sons and daughters, Hide the heart of who we are."


Rolls


Keeping up the song as he helped people over the bridge.

Mastery Check
1d100 (98) + 25 = 123
Hyper Sense | Aalam Abungu | Thread Code

 
Top