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Beluaterra / Re: Netherworld
« on: May 15, 2016, 08:03:11 PM »
Why are all these daimon hordes named after animals?
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Beluaterra / Re: Chances of survival?
« on: March 26, 2016, 02:08:41 AM »
Hail To The Queen (just in)
message to everyone on Beluaterra
At long last, the opaque swirls of colour in the portal begin to coalesce into concrete shapes.
Though some are many hundreds of miles from the portal, all on Beluaterra find themselves somehow fully aware of what happens next.
Incantatrix and Cacabula cease their chanting, their bodies now shining like miniature suns with the energies they have gathered. They kneel on either side of Azerax, who still stands staring into the portal, a rapt expression on his face.
He stares up now, as on the other side of the portal a humanoid form has begun to take shape. It is tall—taller than Strategus—and it coruscates with power. As before, the details of its form and features are cloaked in shimmering shadow, but its eyes are completely clear: eyes that match the brand upon Azerax's face.
Azerax steps forward now, and reaches both hands up toward the portal. The hands of the figure on the other side reach down toward him, as if in a skewed mirror. They touch just as both reach the surface of the portal itself.
The hands that appear from beyond are a slate-blue, and appear like the hands of a perfectly formed human woman, save for their large size and the claw tipping each finger. There is a faint shimmer in the air around them, but not as strong as that surrounding Incantatrix. The hands grasp Azerax's wrists, as he grasps hers, and then he begins to step back, a wondering smile spreading across his face.
The smile is somewhat surprising, given that his flesh seems to be starting to smoke where it touches the hands from the portal.
Inch by inch, Azerax appears to be pulling the figure through the portal. As her arms come almost fully through, she ducks her head to be able to pass safely under the top of the portal's arch...
...and Domina steps from the Netherworld into our world for the first time in human history.
Her face and form are perfection, and to gaze upon her is to learn despair, for she can never be obtained, and never be matched by any human man or woman. Her eyes are a swirl of colours surrounding a white-hot point in the center, always rotating, and they can pierce through the soul in an instant.
Then she speaks, with a voice like the most beautiful and majestic music, and the world goes silent to listen.
"Azerax, mortal human, you have been blessed as no other before you, for not only have you gazed upon my face, you have twice been the instrument of my return to this plane. Now shall I complete your blessing."
She lays one hand on his head, closes her eyes, tilts her head back slightly, and opens her mouth.
Azerax stiffens, and something seems to rise from his body, like smoke and yet not, and flow into her mouth. As it does, his body ages and desiccates, until within moments, he is nothing but dried sticks of bone.
Domina shudders in apparent pleasure as Azerax's bones crumble to dust before her. She stands there, savouring the moment, for several seconds, then gestures to her two lieutenants.
"Come," she says, and strides from the temple. As she does so, Incantatrix and Cacabula follow. Behind them, a new phalanx of Daimon warriors marches forth from the portal.
Outside, she climbs the steps to the bell. She caresses it lovingly, and it sings back to her a soft song as she does so. Then she turns her back to it and faces outward.
"Humans of this world, the time when you were allowed to live in lies is over. Now I have returned to claim what is mine, and all your armies shall be like dust in the wind before me."
She raises her arms, and true to her words, a mighty wind rises up. It blows outward from the temple, and the armies of men marching toward it find themselves slowed, then stopped, then pushed back as the wind grows stronger.
"Bow to Domina, humans, or be utterly destroyed."
message to everyone on Beluaterra
At long last, the opaque swirls of colour in the portal begin to coalesce into concrete shapes.
Though some are many hundreds of miles from the portal, all on Beluaterra find themselves somehow fully aware of what happens next.
Incantatrix and Cacabula cease their chanting, their bodies now shining like miniature suns with the energies they have gathered. They kneel on either side of Azerax, who still stands staring into the portal, a rapt expression on his face.
He stares up now, as on the other side of the portal a humanoid form has begun to take shape. It is tall—taller than Strategus—and it coruscates with power. As before, the details of its form and features are cloaked in shimmering shadow, but its eyes are completely clear: eyes that match the brand upon Azerax's face.
Azerax steps forward now, and reaches both hands up toward the portal. The hands of the figure on the other side reach down toward him, as if in a skewed mirror. They touch just as both reach the surface of the portal itself.
The hands that appear from beyond are a slate-blue, and appear like the hands of a perfectly formed human woman, save for their large size and the claw tipping each finger. There is a faint shimmer in the air around them, but not as strong as that surrounding Incantatrix. The hands grasp Azerax's wrists, as he grasps hers, and then he begins to step back, a wondering smile spreading across his face.
The smile is somewhat surprising, given that his flesh seems to be starting to smoke where it touches the hands from the portal.
Inch by inch, Azerax appears to be pulling the figure through the portal. As her arms come almost fully through, she ducks her head to be able to pass safely under the top of the portal's arch...
...and Domina steps from the Netherworld into our world for the first time in human history.
Her face and form are perfection, and to gaze upon her is to learn despair, for she can never be obtained, and never be matched by any human man or woman. Her eyes are a swirl of colours surrounding a white-hot point in the center, always rotating, and they can pierce through the soul in an instant.
Then she speaks, with a voice like the most beautiful and majestic music, and the world goes silent to listen.
"Azerax, mortal human, you have been blessed as no other before you, for not only have you gazed upon my face, you have twice been the instrument of my return to this plane. Now shall I complete your blessing."
She lays one hand on his head, closes her eyes, tilts her head back slightly, and opens her mouth.
Azerax stiffens, and something seems to rise from his body, like smoke and yet not, and flow into her mouth. As it does, his body ages and desiccates, until within moments, he is nothing but dried sticks of bone.
Domina shudders in apparent pleasure as Azerax's bones crumble to dust before her. She stands there, savouring the moment, for several seconds, then gestures to her two lieutenants.
"Come," she says, and strides from the temple. As she does so, Incantatrix and Cacabula follow. Behind them, a new phalanx of Daimon warriors marches forth from the portal.
Outside, she climbs the steps to the bell. She caresses it lovingly, and it sings back to her a soft song as she does so. Then she turns her back to it and faces outward.
"Humans of this world, the time when you were allowed to live in lies is over. Now I have returned to claim what is mine, and all your armies shall be like dust in the wind before me."
She raises her arms, and true to her words, a mighty wind rises up. It blows outward from the temple, and the armies of men marching toward it find themselves slowed, then stopped, then pushed back as the wind grows stronger.
"Bow to Domina, humans, or be utterly destroyed."
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Beluaterra / Re: Chances of survival?
« on: March 22, 2016, 03:16:03 AM »
Some role-play from the south......
Lewis rung his hands in the dark. The black, cloudless winter sky poured moonlight onto the men. The cold air of the night traced the outline of Lewis's ragged breathing as he drew himself into his cloak.
"I hate the bloody cold", Lewis whispered to himself.
Drawing in his reigns, Lewis spurred his horse forward, ahead of his makeshift band of troops. The new men from Jidington were not meshing well with the troop protocol. They'll come round in time, Lewis mused.
Half a mile out of the gates of the Jidington, the men were nervous. Monsters, undead, Diamon and gods know what else plagued the south these days. The chaotic, war-torn landscape seemed almost surreal to Lewis.
Riombara, a ghost of its former glory, could no longer protect the people of these lands, and anywhere outside of the city was plagued by lawless, desperate anarchy. Lewis didn't particularly care for commoners, their quaint little lives were beneath him, but he did love order and stability. Memories of his peaceful childhood on the East Continent played in his mind as a disturbing contrast to the burned farms and dead bodies of Riombara's former domain.
I'm gonna bloody bring a taste of law and order back to this place. Daimons be damned to oblivion. I'm going to send them back to hell and bring a little taste of civilization back to the south.
Lewis hadn't had cake in weeks, extravagant pleasures were hard to come by in the south these days, and he was determined to see that change.
He'd hire a fleet of bakers once he'd become lord. Of that, Lewis was certain. Riding into the black night, Lewis couldn't stop thinking about cake.
Lewis rung his hands in the dark. The black, cloudless winter sky poured moonlight onto the men. The cold air of the night traced the outline of Lewis's ragged breathing as he drew himself into his cloak.
"I hate the bloody cold", Lewis whispered to himself.
Drawing in his reigns, Lewis spurred his horse forward, ahead of his makeshift band of troops. The new men from Jidington were not meshing well with the troop protocol. They'll come round in time, Lewis mused.
Half a mile out of the gates of the Jidington, the men were nervous. Monsters, undead, Diamon and gods know what else plagued the south these days. The chaotic, war-torn landscape seemed almost surreal to Lewis.
Riombara, a ghost of its former glory, could no longer protect the people of these lands, and anywhere outside of the city was plagued by lawless, desperate anarchy. Lewis didn't particularly care for commoners, their quaint little lives were beneath him, but he did love order and stability. Memories of his peaceful childhood on the East Continent played in his mind as a disturbing contrast to the burned farms and dead bodies of Riombara's former domain.
I'm gonna bloody bring a taste of law and order back to this place. Daimons be damned to oblivion. I'm going to send them back to hell and bring a little taste of civilization back to the south.
Lewis hadn't had cake in weeks, extravagant pleasures were hard to come by in the south these days, and he was determined to see that change.
He'd hire a fleet of bakers once he'd become lord. Of that, Lewis was certain. Riding into the black night, Lewis couldn't stop thinking about cake.
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Beluaterra / Re: Netherworld
« on: February 28, 2016, 06:51:37 PM »
That's just so strange, are you saying that the Netherworld, who can summon monsters and undead, have no control over them? The Netherworld must live in fear of rogues just like any other kingdom?
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Beluaterra / Netherworld
« on: February 28, 2016, 06:47:54 PM »
Can someone please explain to me why the monsters/rogues are attacking the Netherworld, it's just so weird, aren't they supposed to be allies?
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Far East Island / Re: The Walls of Winter
« on: March 01, 2014, 02:47:08 AM »
The poor Kindarians the iceberg is moving over them first 
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Far East Island / The Walls of Winter
« on: March 01, 2014, 02:24:35 AM »
The Walls of Winter
The grinding, cracking sounds people reported hearing from the fog have grown much louder and more distinct now, and large chunks of ice have been seen washing ashore on the beaches of Todtpiz and Dsinanas. The water in Alanurs' harbour is beginning to form a skin of ice in the calm areas, and the harbourmaster has been talking about ordering the ships there to leave, lest they be trapped if it freezes solid, or sunk by large chunks of ice washed in on the tide.
Above the fog, the air in the south is very clear tonight, and the full moon is remarkably bright. But an answering glow seems to come from the south, beyond the low ground fog. Lookouts in high towers in Osaliel, and even as far away as Masahakon and Batesaor, can see the moonlight reflecting off a wall of white rising high above the sea and the fog, and its glow of reflected moonlight can be seen as far north as Haul on this clear night.
Even from this far away, as impossible as it is to believe, what they see can now be unmistakably identified: it is the front edge of an immensely tall glacier, advancing inexorably upon the land.
The grinding, cracking sounds people reported hearing from the fog have grown much louder and more distinct now, and large chunks of ice have been seen washing ashore on the beaches of Todtpiz and Dsinanas. The water in Alanurs' harbour is beginning to form a skin of ice in the calm areas, and the harbourmaster has been talking about ordering the ships there to leave, lest they be trapped if it freezes solid, or sunk by large chunks of ice washed in on the tide.
Above the fog, the air in the south is very clear tonight, and the full moon is remarkably bright. But an answering glow seems to come from the south, beyond the low ground fog. Lookouts in high towers in Osaliel, and even as far away as Masahakon and Batesaor, can see the moonlight reflecting off a wall of white rising high above the sea and the fog, and its glow of reflected moonlight can be seen as far north as Haul on this clear night.
Even from this far away, as impossible as it is to believe, what they see can now be unmistakably identified: it is the front edge of an immensely tall glacier, advancing inexorably upon the land.
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Far East Island / Re: Cathay's Civil War
« on: January 26, 2014, 06:53:39 PM »
Is this Civil War expected to last?
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Far East Island / Re: Cathay's Civil War
« on: January 26, 2014, 06:49:06 PM »
Hmmm.......so does Arcaea support this Civil War?
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Far East Island / Cathay's Civil War
« on: January 26, 2014, 06:40:10 PM »
How did all this happen? First the secession of Haul, and White Towers becoming an independent kingdom Sun'Sera, and now the Civil War of Cathay.
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