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IC - Tideruler: The Fall of Laholt
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<blockquote data-quote="Archon Basileus" data-source="post: 7430058" data-attributes="member: 6855545"><p><strong>EVERYONE</strong></p><p></p><p>The group leaves the throne room behind as a sudden glimmer and an implosion push Gallena into nothingness. After her disappearance, the area remains silent, as does the courtyard. Only the owl's flight breaks the monotony as the group descends the old way beyond the entrance.</p><p></p><p>From a distance, Moss's already capable of seeing the mob increasing in size. Even before the heroes have a chance of approaching, the horn is blown three times. The mob seems to rally in a circle. At the head of it sits the Firbolg with the horn, expectant and menacing in appearance. Now people come from all four corners of the city, gathering at the center in a surprising speed. Soft-stepped elves, rough-looking giants, indifferent nymphs, shy dryads, glimmering-eyed gnomes, all come to the Plaza, occupying tumbled stones, twisted branches and forgotten benches to accommodate. As the heroes approach, the mob has turned into a good twenty souls, and it'll possibly double in the next few minutes. </p><p></p><p>From a distance, Zyara can feel the tension pilling up by the contours of the rebellious bunch. Body language speaks, and she can see the rigidness of tensed muscles all around. The same goes for both Aranel and Daxio. The place radiates magical energies, as if fate itself was being conjured in front of the coterie. Diviners, mages and all sorts of magical creatures grunt and moan as magic energies pile up through meditation and cantrips. Arduniel feels a different sort of sparkle rising up: where the foreign duo senses wild energies at play, Arduniel feels hate pushing the lay lines to explosive directions. Pragmatic Alice recognizes the faces of mutiny, a common sight among pirates and a widespread practice wherever power struggles to spread.</p><p></p><p>Focused on the happenstances at the center of the improvised arena, odds are the gathering won't perceive the heroes, if they're stealthy enough.</p><p></p><p><em><span style="color: #FF0000"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="color: #FF0000">[Ok, what would you like to do? <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" />]</span></em></p><p></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>BAT KNIGHT</strong></p><p></p><p>On the other side of the city, under a sum of cropped-up canopies, satyrs, gnomes and elves gather to drink the small ferments of surrounding trees, breaking the fruits to sip from the oddly-conceived liquids. Petite Calliope, mistress of transmutation, managed to conceive such trees to sate the tastes of her patrons. Around, the small wood invades a large part of the Causeway, serving as a natural shelter to house her inn, the Honeydew. She's become famous for breeding her own delicacies - some of which are even known for their addictive nature - having pixies for keepers and wooden platforms for suspended eating rooms. </p><p></p><p>Right now, she leans over the Bat, offering all sorts of dishes and drinks. The activity became a practical joke for her - she tries to lure him into showing his mouth, at the very least, even though she holds small hope of this ever happening. Placed at the furthermost area of the Honeydew, the Bat listens to the distant musical dashes of the bards, so very different than the solemn movements of his homeland. Smiling Calliope continues to taunt him, only to cease her efforts all of a sudden.</p><p></p><p>"You are no fun, sir." - she glides to a pillow, clearly exhausted of trying. "But at the very least I can tend to you without making count of all the fuss going on around" - her high-pitched voice seems truly annoyed. </p><p></p><p> [MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION] [MENTION=6801311]KahlessNestor[/MENTION] [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION] [MENTION=87106]MetaVoid[/MENTION] [MENTION=6847138]Charlotte of Oz[/MENTION] [MENTION=1231]Kaodi[/MENTION]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Archon Basileus, post: 7430058, member: 6855545"] [B]EVERYONE[/B] The group leaves the throne room behind as a sudden glimmer and an implosion push Gallena into nothingness. After her disappearance, the area remains silent, as does the courtyard. Only the owl's flight breaks the monotony as the group descends the old way beyond the entrance. From a distance, Moss's already capable of seeing the mob increasing in size. Even before the heroes have a chance of approaching, the horn is blown three times. The mob seems to rally in a circle. At the head of it sits the Firbolg with the horn, expectant and menacing in appearance. Now people come from all four corners of the city, gathering at the center in a surprising speed. Soft-stepped elves, rough-looking giants, indifferent nymphs, shy dryads, glimmering-eyed gnomes, all come to the Plaza, occupying tumbled stones, twisted branches and forgotten benches to accommodate. As the heroes approach, the mob has turned into a good twenty souls, and it'll possibly double in the next few minutes. From a distance, Zyara can feel the tension pilling up by the contours of the rebellious bunch. Body language speaks, and she can see the rigidness of tensed muscles all around. The same goes for both Aranel and Daxio. The place radiates magical energies, as if fate itself was being conjured in front of the coterie. Diviners, mages and all sorts of magical creatures grunt and moan as magic energies pile up through meditation and cantrips. Arduniel feels a different sort of sparkle rising up: where the foreign duo senses wild energies at play, Arduniel feels hate pushing the lay lines to explosive directions. Pragmatic Alice recognizes the faces of mutiny, a common sight among pirates and a widespread practice wherever power struggles to spread. Focused on the happenstances at the center of the improvised arena, odds are the gathering won't perceive the heroes, if they're stealthy enough. [I][COLOR="#FF0000"] [Ok, what would you like to do? :)][/COLOR][/I] [B] BAT KNIGHT[/B] On the other side of the city, under a sum of cropped-up canopies, satyrs, gnomes and elves gather to drink the small ferments of surrounding trees, breaking the fruits to sip from the oddly-conceived liquids. Petite Calliope, mistress of transmutation, managed to conceive such trees to sate the tastes of her patrons. Around, the small wood invades a large part of the Causeway, serving as a natural shelter to house her inn, the Honeydew. She's become famous for breeding her own delicacies - some of which are even known for their addictive nature - having pixies for keepers and wooden platforms for suspended eating rooms. Right now, she leans over the Bat, offering all sorts of dishes and drinks. The activity became a practical joke for her - she tries to lure him into showing his mouth, at the very least, even though she holds small hope of this ever happening. Placed at the furthermost area of the Honeydew, the Bat listens to the distant musical dashes of the bards, so very different than the solemn movements of his homeland. Smiling Calliope continues to taunt him, only to cease her efforts all of a sudden. "You are no fun, sir." - she glides to a pillow, clearly exhausted of trying. "But at the very least I can tend to you without making count of all the fuss going on around" - her high-pitched voice seems truly annoyed. [MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION] [MENTION=6801311]KahlessNestor[/MENTION] [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION] [MENTION=87106]MetaVoid[/MENTION] [MENTION=6847138]Charlotte of Oz[/MENTION] [MENTION=1231]Kaodi[/MENTION] [/QUOTE]
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