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Lycoria: Legacy

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Lycoria: Legacy

Postby Mr_D » Sun Apr 09, 2006 8:38 am

And our lord, he spoke to the world, and all trembled before him.

"Bring me your first born and offer them to me on the altar of the world. Do so without question or know my wrath for all eternity."

And his will was done.

-Unattributed text found beneath the ruins of the Attmus cathedral.


Two cloaked figures stopped in the road, illuminated by the brilliant white of the moon. It's pale light streamed down on the land below, casting dancing shadows as the trees swayed in the wind.

"There it is." Vahn said, his gaze fixed on the lone castle on the hilltop above.

"Are you sure we can trust him?" Millia said, pulling down her hood. Her soft, pale hair fluttered in the wind which seemed to urge them onwards.

"Of course." Vahn replied. "Hashin was one of his friends. one of the few people he trusted in this world." Vahn continued with a tinge of regret, as though fighting back the memories. "When I was young he and the others were like family to me."

"I understand." Millia placed a gentle hand on Vahn's shoulder.

"Besides. I owe it to him." He said, walking ahead to the castle gate. Millia pulled up her hood once more and diligently followed.
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Postby Magus » Sun Apr 09, 2006 11:27 am

Yissam Snizwatt marched alone through the silent night and the soft lunar glow. The years as a whole had acted kindly upon the aging half-orc, and he was much unchanged since his exploits fifteen years prior. Across his chest was a long diagonal scar that reached from his left shoulder down to the right corner of his waist. From his right deltoid to the left side of his waist was a second scar, that intercepted the first to form a giant "X". The grean fur that covered all of his body was beginning to show a sprinkling of gray amidst the dominate color. His left eye was half-blind, with a long vertical scar running through its center. Angoraath hung against his back, the giant sword his only friend since... since Jacatour fell.

The Half-Orc reached for his left shoulder, and clenched where his arm should have been, a stump that ended after the shoulder blade.

Jacatour...

He pushed the thought of his brother out of his mind. That was a long time ago, and nothing could come from dwelling on the past.

He pressed on through the pale-lit darkness. There was a battle ahead, and he would not be left out of it.
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Postby Neurolanis » Sun Apr 09, 2006 12:00 pm

A large golden cathedral stood before them, with large white arches leading to a ribbed vault. Giant white orders rose inside this megatlithic structure. Priests in white robes walked in elightened stride, proud in their relatively new and original religion -- the worshipping of the High Light, designed by several great shamans known as the Jensu -- the High Priests. Several bowed in a circle around a swami in black robe, with long bushy hair. Newest of the Jensu, and the youngest, Hashin the most gifted of the Jensu. He rose as he gleamed upon a strane oval mirror which reflected bluish lights. The lights swarmed through the mirror like two rivers flowing together, between them a strange wavy line of dark, like a doorway into another realm. Hashin stared deeply inside this, as then his eyes eased, and he sensed company was soon upon him.
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Postby Mr_D » Sun Apr 09, 2006 12:03 pm

Vahn rapped on the door with his knuckles, the mail and plate clad gauntlets clashing loudly with the wooden door of the cathedral.
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Postby Neurolanis » Sun Apr 09, 2006 12:09 pm

Monks in brown robes opened the door, and bowed before the men. Guards in red stepped forward. "Wait," said the leader, turning to Hashin. "Your honor!"

Hashin turned with a smile, knowing who he would see before he saw him. "Vahn! Welcome! Come in!" Hashin walked towards him as more of a man of the land than a priest.
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Postby Mr_D » Sun Apr 09, 2006 12:14 pm

Vahn rudely ignored the priests, adjusting the long sword on his back before heading inside. He nodded in recognition to Hashin. "It's been along time." Vahn said. He brushed back his hood, revealing short, tousseled brown hair and brown eyes that smouldered like coals. He wore a familiar looking suit of black gothic armour that covered every inch of his body save his face. Millia bowed politely to the monks and uttered an apology before heading after the young man.
Last edited by Mr_D on Wed May 03, 2006 2:07 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Magus » Sun Apr 09, 2006 12:24 pm

Shabel-Rae walked through the halls of the ornately constructed cathedral. The years had been especially harsh upon him; his skin was now so dark as to be bronze, with deep crevices and wrinkles marking his body. His joints were twisted and gnarled with age and arthritis, his arms and body thin and weak, his beard hoary and a shade too gray to be white. His face was much hardened from when he had retired to be with his own company. That, too, had been his own fault... he never should have let Thomas near that damned abjuror... he should have been sharp enough to stop that damned transformation... he was never cut out to be a warrior.

The mage hobbled through the halls, pressing his weight on the oaken cane he carried, that was topped with a head carved into the shape of a hare... of Thomas as he always had been. His robes were deep-set violet, so much so as to be nearly black, trimmed with gold. He haunched over like an enfeebled beggar, physical powers long having left his body. The only comfort was that his true powers, his lifeblood of spell-craft, had not diminished with age, but had grown exponentially. If he had only been this strong back then... Thomas might still be alive.

Ahead of him was an ajar door, light flooding through it. There was where he made his way to, only guessing how the others would react.
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Postby Neurolanis » Sun Apr 09, 2006 12:37 pm

"And Shabel-Rae," smiled Hashin. "Welcome. We have much to dicuss. Please, come in ... there is a private meeting room where we could dicuss matters. Why I've asked you here is vital indeed. Of the greatest importance to the world, universe, and even beyond that perhaps."
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Postby Magus » Sun Apr 09, 2006 12:43 pm

Shabel nodded silently, his breath short with all of the physical excersion. He was not the young men he used to be nor the still-fit man he ought to be. But his abilities more than made up for his shortcomings. He could still be of some use before he died.
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Postby Neurolanis » Sun Apr 09, 2006 12:47 pm

"How are you getting on, old friend?" Hashin asked Shabel-Rae.
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Postby Mr_D » Sun Apr 09, 2006 12:47 pm

Vahn looked up from where he had been standing, arms crossed and back braced against the wall. He frowned when he saw Shabel, no longer the proud, strong man he had known as a child.
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Postby Magus » Sun Apr 09, 2006 12:54 pm

Shabel turned his head to meet Hashin's eyes. "How does it look like I've been getting on? I've aged twice as quickly as the rest of you and am only a short stretch away from Death's door. I only hope that I could be of some use before I die."
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