Roleplay from Caleb Kingsley (2 days, 4 hours ago)
Message sent to everyone in the region Lothruin (8 recipients)
"If the rest of our band is ready then I suppose our journey begins now."
Once the group was introduced, they set about on their journey. Leaving the town, they headed west. The journey on the road was mostly easy. It had recently rained so the road was a bit muddy, fortunately the company's horses ha no trouble. The presence of such a large company of nobles left many other travelers along the road confused. After seeing the Cagilan banners, many commoners working in the fields watched warily, as outsiders are viewed with distrust here. After about an hour, the road branched. Most people followed the main road to the next nearby village. However the branched path was obviously not used much. They were obviously approaching the least settled part of the region. After another half an hour, the path curved off into a small wooded area.
"The soil in this part of the county was never too good for growing crops" Caleb explained. "That's why this grove still exists. It's also a bit of a holy place. Some people I'm sure still worship here."
He was impressed with his own memory of the place, since it had been nearly 15 years since he last visited it.
After a few minutes along the path through the wood, the company reached a clearing. Alongside the road stood a long abandoned building. A small church made of stone and wood, though the wood had mostly been rotted out, as a result, part of the roof had caved in. The belltower, however, stood as strong as it ever had. The bell itself, made of rusted brass lay cracked atop the tower, the rope suspending it had worn away and broken. The broken old bell would never chime again. It's clear the place had not been disturbed in a long time.
The party halted their journey. Caleb stepped forward and attempted to open the chapel door. It was locked. Sealed, no doubt, by Master Anton many years ago. A bit frustrated, Caleb stepped back and took in the chapel once more. Through the clearing, the sun shone brightly upon it.
Roleplay from Drizztle Sharpspeare (2 days, 3 hours ago)
Message sent to everyone in the region Lothruin (8 recipients)
Drizztle pushed his wait against the door. After his third attempt to bust the door open, he stepped back.
"Well at least this old chapel is well built. My compliments to the architect." Chuckling to himself, he examined the door. "The door my be forced open. We just need to get leverage. Maybe if I use my sword in the door frame. Does anyone have any objections? My Prince? Lady Nicotina? Priest Torsaan? Sorry, I do not know the proper rank you'd prefer to be addressed by"
While waiting for answers, Drizztle examined the door further. After a moment or two, he wiped some sweat from his brow
Roleplay from Nicotina Marlboro (2 days, 3 hours ago)
Message sent to everyone in the region Lothruin (8 recipients)
"Kargnchha Torsaan is the most revered authority in The Word. He is more than a simple lord; some would even say he is practically a god." Dame Nicotina grinned good-naturedly, turning to wink at the wizened leader of the faith. Brushing long blonde locks back behind her ears, she took a closer look at the door. No lock could defeat her, but this did not look to be simply locked. Perhaps barred, or rotten into the frame.
"Perhaps my man Rufus might be able to help you force it; he kicks every bit as hard as the warhorse he rides." At her slightly-raised voice, the dark-clad bodyguard dismounted at the perimeter and approached on foot. He was a fairly large fellow, if not exactly bursting the seams of his black tunic.
Roleplay from Torsaan ka Habb (2 days, 2 hours ago)
Message sent to everyone in the region Lothruin (8 recipients)
He turns to the voice of Nicotina and smiles. "I'm sure Rufus is quite capable." Looking in the direction of the church, the senior priest leads him forward. Placing a hand on it he sighs and steps back. "This sunlight is fantastic, I can make out the shape of the chapel even with my blindness." He looks about wide-eyed. "There is... something about this place. Athonlaurism worshipped the Being of the Sun, no? Arelien they called her..." He pauses a moment, "I'm sure with some meditation she would commune with someone she felt worthy." Looking back he shakes his head "Didn't realize there was so many of us here."
Roleplay from Caleb Kingsley (2 days ago)
Message sent to everyone in the region Lothruin (8 recipients)
While two of the party struggled with the door, the others decided to take a rest. The journey had been fairly tiresome and drink and cookies sounded excellent. Prince Caleb however wished to take a look around. He nodded respectfully to the rest of the party and strolled around the clearing. He looked up through the trees, but clouds were beginning to form overhead. Caleb frowned, noting that rain would spoil the afternoon. He sighed and looked around the chapel a bit more. When he looked on the opposite wall from the door he noticed a boarded up hole near the wall. A cellar!
He quickly returned to the rest of the group who seemed excited at the revelation. They quickly pried the cellar open and entered. It was very dark inside the cellar. There was nothing inside except for a few rotted barrels and crates. On the far end a staircase led up to the belfry. Together they went up the stairs and into the chapel proper.
Inside the church, wooden pews were broken and strewn across the floor. The roof that had collapsed lay in bits strewn about the interior. The hole in the ceiling exposing the bare sky above. The clouds were still there, although a few rays of light shone through. At the front of the church, a stone podium stood upon a sun shaped dais where Master Anton taught the Bright Path to his followers. Behind him a large hearth stood, although the flames within had been extinguished long ago. Above the fireplace hung two hooks.
"That is where Anaris once rested. The Sunsword gave light to the darkest of places. It was a gift to Master Anton from Lady Arelien."
A small room lay on the wall opposite the doorway to the belfry. A few pieces of light furniture were all that was left of Master Anton's quarters.
Caleb turned to Raziella, "Can you tell me more about what you saw in your vision?"
Roleplay from Raziella I Himoura Nifelleisca (1 day, 23 hours ago)
Message sent to everyone in the region Lothruin (8 recipients)
Taking his hands, Raziella and Nicotina helped the blind priest out of the dark cellar and into the chapel. Looking around at the destruction, with weeds growing where the roof had rotted and fallen through, tree branches stressing the stonework, waterstains on the floor, the creak of the stairs, Raziella took notice of the hearth. It seemed singularly in better condition than the remainder of the chapel, though it had likely seen better days as well. In fact, there was no plant life around the entire dais unlike the rest of the chapel, which had just recently begun to have vines growing up its walls.The room smelled lightly of mold. Walking to the stairs up towards the bell tower, Raziella tested them gingerly, ascending up a few steps, but returning shortly.
Summoning the two hurlers that had been with her that night, and still survived to this day, she bade them strip their uniforms. Removing their upper garments, in the process displaying unbathed, but strong, muscular arms, Raziella motioned the others closer. "These are the scars left us from that night. You will notice they are peculiarly identical in fashion. I share the same wound. These wounds came with many strange words spoken, as if an incantation or rites of some kind, by many strange men, viking brutes, robes of an airy, exotic desert quality, beings of such intensity I could not look upon them. All seemingly descended, spawned, or originated from a young girl, half my age, or less."
Raziella grew quiet and walked to a pew, sitting further away, nearly shivering, closing her eyes and thinking whilst the others murmured in speculation, inspecting the wounds. Standing, "but we came here to learn more of Arelien. My apologies, my Prince, but I've had trouble shaking my brief captivity from my mind. Arelien was the name impressed upon me as barad gardor burned to the ground, along with menedor's fields. And I saw a face in the flames. Not quite 'in' the flames, but as if the flames were her hair and she was the fire."
Returning to the belltower staircase, Raziella tested her weight on each stair. Why they would use wood and not stone for such a staircase was beyond her knowledge of architecture, but she felt compelled to go higher, despite the creaking of the steps. Approximately her height and a half up, she encountered a section that had fallen away. Peering down, she slowly knelt, looking into the blackness below, thinking she heard something. Yet she couldn't sense anything. Standing up, Raziella startled with a shriek, spotting the old woman sitting on the staircase above, "Hello child. I see you peer where you do not belong."
"Xanio is your true name? Or do you still go by Jordfan?" Raziella meekly inquired, backing away down the staircase.
"You use names you do not understand. Try another to see if it fits: Elanzil. Does that not satisfy you? Perhaps you could dress me in the name of Norscha." The old lady began standing, "But I have slept way too long and my rage shall sweep Atamara for its inequities!" Raziella stumbled backwards, falling a short distance backwards down the stairs, before hearing a crack, as the staircase gave way and she fell into the cellar beneath, seeing one of her friends' faces as she fell.
Roleplay from Raziella I Himoura Nifelleisca (1 day, 23 hours ago)
Message sent to everyone in the region Lothruin (8 recipients)
Raziella rubbed her head, as she lay there, sore from the fall. Fortunately, it had not been far, but she'd still landed upon her back and lay there a moment. Until she heard grunting. Scrambling up faster than she felt like moving, she heard more wood cracking and ducked, but nothing fell. Her hand suddenly shot with pain, as well. Looking down, she was bleeding...and holding something. As she painfully uncurled her hand, she was holding a white rose, though not it was splotched in her blood from its thorns. How did that get there, she thought. Then she heard a growl and several loud crashed. Her eyes were adjusting to the cellar light, but she still couldn't see.
Yelling to those above, "Arke?", forgetting that Arke was not there. Listening as the name echoed, she realized her blunder, and much more loudly and urgently as the sounds grew closer, "Caleb?!?", her hands hurriedly looking for her dagger to no avail.
