Jun of the Celadine
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,410 
Age: 28
Physical Description: Jun is a human adult, standing 5’4”. She is wiry and fit at approximately 120 lbs. She has olive skin, dark brown hair ending just above her shoulders, and slight epicanthic folds over her dark almond eyes. Her face is squarish with a small chin. Her skin is dotted with battle scars, and her left arm is heavily bandaged due to an unknown affliction.
Clothes and Equipment: Jun possesses a vast collection of seeds, herbs, insects, and scrolls hidden in various pouches in her armor. These serve as reagents for her multitude of spells. Her armor consists of a customized, long-coat style gambeson that is stuffed with a matrix of seeds and plant fibers. Fitted on top is a set of brass-like, enchanted half armor (chest piece, pauldrons, and tassets) which gives off a warm aura. She has an open-faced, burgonet style helmet and coif of the same materials.
Her most notable "weapons" are Blackbean and Resonance. Blackbean is an elephant-sized demon crow which has served with Jun for many years as a mount and as a bodyguard. A minor enchantment allows him to disguise himself as a regular crow. Resonance is an azure blue longsword with a mind of his own. He can intercept minor attacks and can teleport to his owner. He can also use a personal reserve of magic to aid in the casting of a single spell.
Allegiances: Isra
Player's online availability : Frequently
Registered: Mar 27, 2015 22:57:52 GMT -8
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Post by Jun of the Celadine on May 5, 2016 8:22:18 GMT -8
<Enter from Black Tower>
Jun and Blackbean were flying low through the streets of Isra. The pyromancy blasts had attracted her the most, but they seemed to have subsided. Was what was happening over there? Did the perpetrators surrender?
That's when she it. There was a strange, winged creature flying over the center of the plaza.
"Shit, bank left!" Jun cried out to Blackbean. The pair did not fly straight towards the being, but instead circled it. Now only were they hidden behind the buildings, but it was dark, so Jun hoped she wouldn't be immediately visible, between wearing black dragon armor and her crow also being black.
She drew her sword, Resonance. Bolts of mana started to surge down her chains and the sword began to glow brightly. The surrounding air might start to feel slightly colder as the residual heat energy from the pyromancy blasts would start to subtly flow towards her. Again, she hoped she would not become visible until she was ready to cast her spells.
Of course, if there was a peaceful way out of this... and who was Glavilidon?
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Post by The Free States of Isra on May 5, 2016 11:35:15 GMT -8
Second Lieutenant Calgary's men had nearly made it to their destination when the dragon made itself known. In unison their griffins wheeled about to head towards the monstrosity. A quick glance over his shoulder showed the remainder of the Company mounting up and begin to take off in formation down the Street of Red. The fact the enemy was flying made it the sole duty of the Dawn Riders to bring it down. One rider went off towards the Norkari Mountains to fetch the rest of the Legion, but it would be a couple of hours before they could respond. His archers opened fire on the beast while the rest of the men readied javelins and threw them at the dragon.
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84 
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on May 5, 2016 13:38:55 GMT -8
Attla saw no reason to engage the aerial targets, nor to fight at all. He dropped his altitude immensely quickly, landing in the plaza. He was sure he would be attacked. After all, they had no clue who Glavilidom was. He just hoped his body would be able to take the brunt of the force, before the transformation ended. He was to settle this through lies and sweet-talking, as he normally does. Maybe cut out the sweet-talking. He couldn't see the pyromancers. That was obvious why, for they had began stage two of his plan. "I AM THE DRAGON GOD. STAND YOUR WEAPONS DOWN IMMEDIATELY!" His powerful voice would have echoed across most of Isra, a low pitched tone, with a sharp edge to it. The volume was particularly high, reaching up to at least a hundred decibels, from the sheer power of his voice box. He could deafen someone by simply talking into their ear. He was sure to use this to great ability in an upcoming fight. |
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Post by The Free States of Isra on May 5, 2016 14:30:13 GMT -8
A hail of javelins and arrows is all he would receive in reply as the remainder of the Company arrived. Over 70 projectiles would slam into the beast's hide, the Riders deadly in their aim at such a large beast. Captain Aurelius could only hope that the guards on the ground were evacuating the civilians. He had a dragon to fight.
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Empress Naoki
Famous
Roleplay posts: 2,238
Physical Description: =========================
Empress Naoki is a curvaceous woman of average height, indeterminate age, and catlike features. Her hair is a dark auburn, often pulled back into a long braid. Her ears are both soft and fluffy, and her tail is never less than perfectly groomed. Amber eyes glisten in the shadows cast by her hair.
Clothes and Equipment: =========================
Naoki's wardrobe is to her as a frame is to a painting. Sometimes embellished with detail to be attractive in its own right, but never the focus. Usually simple but elegant, tightly fitting and highly revealing, used only to frame the beauty within.
Additionally, Naoki is, when clothed, often adorned with a small collection of accessories. She wears an earring, a brilliant cut amethyst, in her right ear. The silver signet ring of Isra is worn on her left pinky, marking her as High Lady of Isra. Directly adjacent, she wears the golden signet ring of The Isran Empire as its Empress. On the inside of her left thigh, there is a tattoo depicting a rose entwined with tentacles.
Allegiances: The Isran Empire
Player's online availability : Excessively often. Timezone: ET (-5)
Registered: Sept 12, 2015 13:02:17 GMT -8
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Post by Empress Naoki on May 5, 2016 16:03:04 GMT -8
Seeing as how this has been escalated into combat, turn order becomes a thing that matters. If all involved could please start allowing that to happen, that would be swell. This means that this scene is going to take much longer, but that’s what escalating things to combat means. Rather than a strict order, I figure we can probably just do it such that everyone on Team Isra gets to post once in between every post of Attla’s, in whatever order they can. At present, this list includes Naoki, Artemis, Jun, Dawn Riders, Ryden, and Isra itself (representing The Citadel and such).
Madame Naoki stands her ground at the foot of The Citadel’s step as events begin to transpire. What the actual what. What. Who is this. Who are they referring to. Who the hell is “ Glavlidom”. Yet another self-declared dragon god, apparently. Swell. Absolutely fantastic. Nothing better, in Naoki’s book. She wasn’t looking to finish any of that paperwork or go home relatively early tonight and spend some quality time with Kate. Not at all! Clearly not, she would much rather spend her time here, dealing with egotistical fire dragons. In a great huff of genuine and unmasked irritation, Madame Naoki turns and begins to swiftly ascend the steps of The Citadel. She knows her place, and it is not on a battlefield. Best to step back and allow her professionals to handle this. Her presence would only further complicate matters by splitting the attention of her combatants. However, it is her task to direct the battle, and summon reinforcements. To this end, her earring begins to glow with unbridled luminosity. Both to mask this luminosity and protect her sensitive ears from that terrible din, Naoki places her hands carefully on her head, covering her ears. First, Naoki reaches out telepathically to Jun of the Celadine . Conveniently enough, she finds that Jun is already in the immediate vicinity, and preparing to take action. A step ahead, brilliant. Naoki issues some tactical instructions to Jun. Next, she reaches out to Lum'Valia , The Black Tower , and Xel'rath , just for starters. She requests that Lum and Xel’ make their way to the site of the conflict, and requests that The Black Tower begin to prepare to take offensive action against this transgressor.
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Jun of the Celadine
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,410
Age: 28
Physical Description: Jun is a human adult, standing 5’4”. She is wiry and fit at approximately 120 lbs. She has olive skin, dark brown hair ending just above her shoulders, and slight epicanthic folds over her dark almond eyes. Her face is squarish with a small chin. Her skin is dotted with battle scars, and her left arm is heavily bandaged due to an unknown affliction.
Clothes and Equipment: Jun possesses a vast collection of seeds, herbs, insects, and scrolls hidden in various pouches in her armor. These serve as reagents for her multitude of spells. Her armor consists of a customized, long-coat style gambeson that is stuffed with a matrix of seeds and plant fibers. Fitted on top is a set of brass-like, enchanted half armor (chest piece, pauldrons, and tassets) which gives off a warm aura. She has an open-faced, burgonet style helmet and coif of the same materials.
Her most notable "weapons" are Blackbean and Resonance. Blackbean is an elephant-sized demon crow which has served with Jun for many years as a mount and as a bodyguard. A minor enchantment allows him to disguise himself as a regular crow. Resonance is an azure blue longsword with a mind of his own. He can intercept minor attacks and can teleport to his owner. He can also use a personal reserve of magic to aid in the casting of a single spell.
Allegiances: Isra
Player's online availability : Frequently
Registered: Mar 27, 2015 22:57:52 GMT -8
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Post by Jun of the Celadine on May 5, 2016 16:11:21 GMT -8
Jun had circled around to the other side of the plaza. She would have trouble hiding her presence now, her sword was glowing rather violently. However, she did her best to remain hidden behind the buildings and out of the creature's line of sight. She saw that the creature was asking for the Isranian air guard to stand down, something which they apparently had no intention of doing. My god the thing had a set of lungs on it. She winced slightly but didn’t lose her concentration.
Wait a sec, where were the pyromancers? And frankly which was the greater threat?
It was at this point that Jun felt Naoki's thoughts. "Ok... I think I have just the thing."
As the possibility of a peaceful resolution began to evaporate, Jun had the distinct impression that fire was going to be important in the next few moments. The ruffians from before had used fire and the creature was bathed in a fiery aura. So she ceased charging Resonance (which continued to glow fairly brightly) and, assuming the air guard had the “god” sufficiently distracted, had Blackbean land in an alleyway flanking the creature, where she could still clearly watch the battle. While in flight energy was already gathering in her off hand. Holding Resonance in her main hand, she’d raise her other hand up in the air.
“Lahspaan, lomok frin!” Her hand would glow red and the heat that had been gathering around her would start to swirl around her in more concentrated air currents. Blackbean was used to heat (on account of being a demon crow), so he wouldn’t mind. He would stay close and watch her blind spots. If cast successfully, the effects of a ward would begin to propagate around her, extended several meters and rapidly growing in size and strength.
(Resonance is charged 1 turn and does not charge this turn. Instead ward is charging this turn. Its effects begin next turn.)
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on May 5, 2016 16:26:13 GMT -8
And that was when Glavilidom took control of Attla's body. An ancient and wise dragon god, a man of words, of patience. He had been deeply troubled by his followers, this last century. He had never advertised hedonism as a concept, but had said that practicing goodwill will allow yourself to revel in happiness. Apparently his scripture had been twisted to fit the narrative of rich snobs. He was disappointed, but he wished to talk with his followers as end effort to rectify their bad choices.
But where was he? In some plaza? He saw the battle-ready faces around him. Javelins slammed into him, taking him by surprise. Why were they attacking him? Was the vessel an enemy of these people?
Maybe if I talk it out they can assist me in my situation. What was it humans made decisions upon? A long piece of wood called a table?
Glavilidom decided summoning a table would be essential. They could discuss the feud over a meal, he supposed. The spell he was to perform would teleport everyone nearby to the chairs, as well. They could settle this peacefully.
<charge 1 turn for Glavilidom's Surprise>
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The Black Tower
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Registered: Apr 22, 2016 21:54:39 GMT -8
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Post by The Black Tower on May 5, 2016 16:44:09 GMT -8
The transmission from Naoki was received loud and clear, and at the looming black tower located outside of Isra's walls, there was a sudden flurry of activity. People began scrambling about, making the necessary preparations to bring out the proverbial big guns. Anyone who happened to be within sight of the gleaming black edifice would see the runes inscribed along its surface beginning to glow with a brilliant light, pulsing up from the ground to coalesce at the crenellated top of the tower. This process would repeat every few minutes as the energy powering their weapon, the Kami, gathered at its source. These pulses would slowly begin to come faster as time passed.
<First Turn of Charge for The Kami>
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Lum'Valia
Dedicated
Normally a dragon, sometimes an angel, always good.
Roleplay posts: 325
Age: 1248
Physical Description: 128 feet long from head to tail. Her eyes which are usually half lidded glow silver. Her scales are a bright white that glows with energy and her massive wings are covered in alabaster feathers. She is a dragon so of course, she is unspeakable beautiful like a work of art.
Her voice is a difficult thing to described. It is a languid thing low and sonorous. Each word she speaks seems to be set to some unheard melody and those who hear her voice often get wrapped up in it. It's almost as though everything she says is part of a comforting lullaby from your childhood wrapping you up making you feel safe.
She specializes in light and holy magics, and her breath attack is a torrent of purifying white flame. Her flame attacks not the body but the soul purging and cleansing evil on a spiritual level. Her flame can turn someone who has been led astray back to the path of good and destroy those who are truly evil. She of course also has all the fearsome physical capabilities of her kind.
In her angelic form, she is lovely. Standing at roughly 5'8 with a slim and curvaceous figure. Her skin is a glowing alabaster and she has large wings with ivory feathers. Her hair is a lustrous silver color and spills down to her mid back. Her features are delicate, with high cheek bones, a pert nose, full lips, and beautiful silver eyes. Currently, she is in her human form, which looks identical to her angelic form but with red hair, and eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: Dragons don't need gear.
Registered: Nov 26, 2015 20:26:13 GMT -8
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Post by Lum'Valia on May 5, 2016 16:50:59 GMT -8
Lum had still been recuperating in her home when Naoki's call came. She was such a nice girl so the dragoness had no reason to not assist. From her home it was easy to summon the power to open a gate to Isra. A massive pillar of light strikes down to the side of the plaza. Lum'Valia's massive dragon form steps out from the light and observes the scene. Jun was there preparing a spell, griffin riders in the sky harassing some beast, and the beast itself. Curious as to the reality of the situation, but not willing to take chances Lum begins to charge a spell.
<Charge One Turn. >
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Post by The Free States of Isra on May 5, 2016 17:14:06 GMT -8
The Dawn Riders were relentless in their attack on the dragon. The older ones, who had fought similar beasts before, noted the difference in demeanor between the dragon they had fought years before in the mountains, and this one now. But that did not stop them from doing their duty. With a loud battlecry they flew by again, a swarm of javelins and arrows headed right at the dragon if he did nothing to stop them. <Approximately 15 arrows and 60 javelins headed right for the dragon> |
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Artemis
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 205
Physical Description: Artemis is a sturdily built woman of medium height, with blonde hair tied back in a professional bun. Clad in a sharp black business suit, with black tie, dress shirt, and gloves, her appearance is utterly unremarkable; save for a single, flawless, purple gem, set on a simple black ribbon, worn choker-style around her throat. Her demeanor is such that she blends seamlessly into the background of any situation when her services are not required.
Registered: Sept 13, 2015 6:26:06 GMT -8
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Post by Artemis on May 5, 2016 18:29:22 GMT -8
Artemis observes the fight from her position above the fray. With the resources at their disposal, there was no question of when the intruder would be dispatched, simply how much force would be required. The Inferno Assembly was foolish, to make their move so early; they lacked the foothold to have any real chance of success. That wasn't to say that they wouldn't cause damage, but it would not be an existential threat to Isra, or the Midnight Sun. She turns with Naoki and ascends the stairs to the citadel, her gem glowing dully as she shoulders a small portion of Naoki's mental load, the rest of her attention focused on keeping an eye out for turns in the fight that would signal threat to her charge. This fight was best left to others, and getting Naoki out of the way was her priority now.
<Exit to Madame Naoki's Office with Madame Naoki>
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Jun of the Celadine
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,410
Age: 28
Physical Description: Jun is a human adult, standing 5’4”. She is wiry and fit at approximately 120 lbs. She has olive skin, dark brown hair ending just above her shoulders, and slight epicanthic folds over her dark almond eyes. Her face is squarish with a small chin. Her skin is dotted with battle scars, and her left arm is heavily bandaged due to an unknown affliction.
Clothes and Equipment: Jun possesses a vast collection of seeds, herbs, insects, and scrolls hidden in various pouches in her armor. These serve as reagents for her multitude of spells. Her armor consists of a customized, long-coat style gambeson that is stuffed with a matrix of seeds and plant fibers. Fitted on top is a set of brass-like, enchanted half armor (chest piece, pauldrons, and tassets) which gives off a warm aura. She has an open-faced, burgonet style helmet and coif of the same materials.
Her most notable "weapons" are Blackbean and Resonance. Blackbean is an elephant-sized demon crow which has served with Jun for many years as a mount and as a bodyguard. A minor enchantment allows him to disguise himself as a regular crow. Resonance is an azure blue longsword with a mind of his own. He can intercept minor attacks and can teleport to his owner. He can also use a personal reserve of magic to aid in the casting of a single spell.
Allegiances: Isra
Player's online availability : Frequently
Registered: Mar 27, 2015 22:57:52 GMT -8
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Post by Jun of the Celadine on May 5, 2016 19:17:21 GMT -8
Although Jun was just as gung-ho as everyone else about eliminating threats to Isra, she realized that although the creature was obviously not friendly, it wasn't fighting back.
Jun couldn't believe she was about to do this. But again, she reminded herself that she was a holy mage in training.
"BEL NAHL KUN!"
Jun released the energy that had been gathering in Resonance. Two large light constructs shaped like isosceles triangles appeared in a bright flash. They were interlocked, so at first they looked like a large parallelogram floating in the middle of the air. They were placed right in between Glavilidom and the hail of arrows, which would bounce off of them harmlessly.
That said, Jun didn't want to give the false impression that she had betrayed her allies, so with but a wave of her hands the constructs would separate and rapidly being circling the being's neck. They were saturated with holy energy and were razor sharp, so if the entity was evil and had any intention of so much as moving, it could expect to be decapitated.
If successful, Jun would start to walk out. By this time her heat-absorbing ward would have covered quite a bit of the plaza and could only be growing stronger. Anyone who tried to use fire as an offensive weapon could expect to be struck with a nice healthy concussive blast of hot air enough to shatter bricks a few seconds later.
"HOLD YOUR FIRE! HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Jun would cry out, and then turn to the creature. "You know I could have cast those right on top of your head. My name is Jun, and I'm one of Isra's ambassadors. There is, absolutely, positively, no chance of your survival if you try to fight. Stand down and let's talk this out. The Dawn Riders will stand down too." (As much as she wanted to add on the words "I hope" to that last statement, she refrained from doing so.)
Somewhat intimidated by the massive creature, she tacked on an adorable little, "Please?"
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 23, 2024 7:51:17 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2016 19:52:17 GMT -8
Va'Nei taking the time to drop her at Isra's gates was very much appreciated. Though her wings felt strong enough to fly, it was a kind thing of her to do. She entered the city once again, headed straight for the tower she looked to claim as her own... and something distracted her. There was chaos ensuing - with beastly roars and several shadows cast from figures flying overhead. She could taste fire somewhere in the city... what was going on?
Curiosity got the better of her and she unfurls her massive wings from her figure - a leap and several powerful rotations of those appendages carrying her easily into the skies. The heart of the madness was from the heart of the city - the plaza. She tips forward and wills the power of her wings to carry her over the buildings, eyes sweeping over all that was going on - and having to be sure to keep clear of the path of the griffin riders. She was a bystander, and thus gave them the air currents for their flight and task. But this didn't stop her from scouring the streets below for whatever the source of the confusion was - and she certainly claimed sight of a dragon-like being... this was a mess, now, wasn't it?
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on May 6, 2016 0:18:05 GMT -8
Glavilidom was very much happy that at least somebody had realised he wasn't an enemy. He still immensly disliked the fact his 'ally' had also proceeded to threaten him directly with a halo of arrows, surrounding his body. It was displeasing, but the situation could certainly be rectified using Glavilidom's Surprise. Whoever gave the order to attack him must be punished, he reckoned. Not to be killed, but perhaps to be cursed in some way or another.
Releasing the spell, an explosion fired off from the plaza. Waves of energy fired off like rays of sunlight, piercing the sky as if they were ethereal spears. A table phased itself into existence, foods of unimaginable quantities formed upon the table. He was immediately teleported to the head of the table and if the spell was to work completely, everybody nearby would also be teleported into the chairs lining the table as well. The spell was of awesome scale, draining the energy of even Glavilidom.
Laying his feet upon the wood of the table, he began to speak.
"So let us settle this over a meal!"
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Post by The Free States of Isra on May 6, 2016 2:59:13 GMT -8
Captain Aurelius, recognizing the authority of Jun, immediately gave the order.
"1st Company! Cease fire and descend, but keep them at the ready!"
The Riders obeyed the command and descended to the ground. Where, they were transported into a chair with some food, their griffins sitting awkwardly beside them.
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Lum'Valia
Dedicated
Normally a dragon, sometimes an angel, always good.
Roleplay posts: 325
Age: 1248
Physical Description: 128 feet long from head to tail. Her eyes which are usually half lidded glow silver. Her scales are a bright white that glows with energy and her massive wings are covered in alabaster feathers. She is a dragon so of course, she is unspeakable beautiful like a work of art.
Her voice is a difficult thing to described. It is a languid thing low and sonorous. Each word she speaks seems to be set to some unheard melody and those who hear her voice often get wrapped up in it. It's almost as though everything she says is part of a comforting lullaby from your childhood wrapping you up making you feel safe.
She specializes in light and holy magics, and her breath attack is a torrent of purifying white flame. Her flame attacks not the body but the soul purging and cleansing evil on a spiritual level. Her flame can turn someone who has been led astray back to the path of good and destroy those who are truly evil. She of course also has all the fearsome physical capabilities of her kind.
In her angelic form, she is lovely. Standing at roughly 5'8 with a slim and curvaceous figure. Her skin is a glowing alabaster and she has large wings with ivory feathers. Her hair is a lustrous silver color and spills down to her mid back. Her features are delicate, with high cheek bones, a pert nose, full lips, and beautiful silver eyes. Currently, she is in her human form, which looks identical to her angelic form but with red hair, and eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: Dragons don't need gear.
Registered: Nov 26, 2015 20:26:13 GMT -8
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Post by Lum'Valia on May 6, 2016 8:08:19 GMT -8
Lum eyed everything that just happened curiously. She felt that tug of some kind of teleportation magic against her. The spell was too weak and too wide spread though to actually move her draconic form. Instead she ambled over to her apprentice, being careful not to knock anything over with her bulk. Once she was close enough to lower her head next to Jun she asks curiously. "What exactly is happening?" The holy dragon also continues to gather charge. In the sky overhead the shape of the Seraphim's seal begins to manifest. |
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Jun of the Celadine
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,410
Age: 28
Physical Description: Jun is a human adult, standing 5’4”. She is wiry and fit at approximately 120 lbs. She has olive skin, dark brown hair ending just above her shoulders, and slight epicanthic folds over her dark almond eyes. Her face is squarish with a small chin. Her skin is dotted with battle scars, and her left arm is heavily bandaged due to an unknown affliction.
Clothes and Equipment: Jun possesses a vast collection of seeds, herbs, insects, and scrolls hidden in various pouches in her armor. These serve as reagents for her multitude of spells. Her armor consists of a customized, long-coat style gambeson that is stuffed with a matrix of seeds and plant fibers. Fitted on top is a set of brass-like, enchanted half armor (chest piece, pauldrons, and tassets) which gives off a warm aura. She has an open-faced, burgonet style helmet and coif of the same materials.
Her most notable "weapons" are Blackbean and Resonance. Blackbean is an elephant-sized demon crow which has served with Jun for many years as a mount and as a bodyguard. A minor enchantment allows him to disguise himself as a regular crow. Resonance is an azure blue longsword with a mind of his own. He can intercept minor attacks and can teleport to his owner. He can also use a personal reserve of magic to aid in the casting of a single spell.
Allegiances: Isra
Player's online availability : Frequently
Registered: Mar 27, 2015 22:57:52 GMT -8
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Post by Jun of the Celadine on May 6, 2016 8:24:46 GMT -8
Lum'Valia would find a rather unfortunate and amusing sight. Glavilidom's spell was powerful, but Jun's armor possessed an exhaustible resistance to magic. An aura being cast from her helm prevented the spell from functioning as intended. Jun hadn't been successfully teleported, though the aura would now be gone. In her stead however, "sitting" in the chair, was a set of dragon armor and a helm. Jun was now standing there, in the middle of the plaza, in her underwear, a cloth wrapping around her chest and cloth briefs. The spell hadn't completely failed after all. "... Hi, Master Lummie." She said as the pile of armor collapsed in the chair she was supposed to be sitting in. Incidentally her giant crow Blackbean had been successfully teleported and was now standing awkwardly next to the Isranian Dawn Riders and their Griffins. Paralysed with eembarrassment, she whimpered, "Blackbean... could you...?" The large crow nodded and began to pluck her bits of armor, one piece at a time, and pass them to Jun, whose expression was a mixture of humiliation, anger, and a desire to leap into the Central Plaza fountain and drown herself. Blackbean occasionally gave little caws of greeting and acknowledgement to his fellow over-sized winged beasts as he continued to hand Jun her armor. Jun proceeded to dress herself one piece at a time, all the while muttering something about how she was done and needed to draw a line in the sand. Her spells continued to remain active, but between maintaining multiple focal points and her public humiliation, Jun wasn't able to teleport the armor back on to her body. When she was nearly done she turned to Lum'Valia. "Crazy Dragon God, meet Lum'Valia. Lum'Valia, meet crazy dragon god. Some pyromancers attacked Isra earlier and this gentlemen here I believe is trying to negotiate their escape. ALTHOUGH DISROBING AN AMBASSADOR IS NOT THE BEST WAY TO START NEGOTIATIONS!" She screeched at Glavilidom with curled fists as she started to walk towards the table. ( Attla, the Conniving doesn't have to wait for Naoki or Artemis as of now.) |
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The Black Tower
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Registered: Apr 22, 2016 21:54:39 GMT -8
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Post by The Black Tower on May 6, 2016 10:17:43 GMT -8
The scryers in the Tower were watching all of this very closely, and while things seemed to be ramping down just a tad - open hostilities were being exchanged for.. sitting down at a table laden with food, somehow? - there was no guarantee that the situation was completely resolved. They needed to remain ready to act at a moment's notice to protect Isra. The pulses of light traveling up the runes covering the tower's exterior were coming very frequently now, one having barely reached the top before the next had already formed at the bottom and was ascending. The glow at the top of the tower was growing steadily brighter with every ripple of magic that reached its top, preparing to unleash the fury of the device contained there at but the slightest thought from those with the authority to command it.
<Second Turn of Charge for The Kami>
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 23, 2024 7:51:17 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on May 6, 2016 23:21:05 GMT -8
The wave from the pulse of arcana sent Zera into a toppling spin, where she was losing air fast. Once she managed to stop flipping head over heels and find out which was was up, her wings snapped hard to the point of pain to act against the momentum. It would only take about two rotations of those powerful wings for her to right herself again in the air and keep herself aloft. At least she hadn't crashed to the earth but that was far too close. Her attention shifts to the dragon being... seated at a table in the middle of the plaza? And now there were people gathered and seated as well.
... what in the hell was going on? She didn't go in closer to find out but simply watched from the air. This was just ridiculous.
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on May 10, 2016 2:46:14 GMT -8
Ho ho ho ho ho ho.
Glavilidom laughed at the unfortunate plight Jun had found herself in. He was dying of laughter - If gods could be killed. The armour teleported! He found himself in fits, losing his ethereal composure. He was turn red upon his humanoid snout. As soon as he would stop it would start again, as he looked at the furious face of Jun.
His laughter became to die down as he realised that in fact this had most likely not helped his situation by any stretch or margin.
He still kept his joviality, though.
A dragon? He was lucky. A short stay and he had already found one of his kin? perhaps they may know of his name? that would certainly help in negotiations. If they knew of his power, it would be easy to simply de-escalate the conflict. He did not rely on intimidation, for it was a foolish thing to do, which started far more fights than it may end. A noble God like I should not have to resort to such ham-fisted solutions, he chose more refined ways.
He could also detect another dragon nearby. Two? he was in for a treat, surely. His teleportation spell had clearly not worked; but that is to be expected when it comes down to dragons. He of course made them in his form and he was very much powerful. He could be assured he would be able to resist the spell, so they must surely.
"I suppose we must talk peace, is that correct?"
He was still silently giggling to himself about the entire ordeal.
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