The door was locked by powerful magic but as she touched the handle, it pulled her through the door to the other side. That would come in handy, she thought as she tested going back and forth quickly. The Sorcerors Laboratory she entered was extremely tidey. The entire western wall was wall to wall, floor to ceiling books of all shapes sizes and natures. Beakers and Flasks were still drying from the night before on a wooden rack near a cauldron used for washing them. Lab Benches and a pit locked and bolted and amplified by magic made up the center of the room and there was a stone stairway up and out of the room.
Where to start? There was so little she could remember. Vague faces and locations came to mind but nothing solid. The Lab was cleaned almost too well. It was as if the person who cleaned it didn't want her to find anything amiss and mistake its importance. There must be more to this place. She climbed the steps and placed her hand on the door. Again she was pulled through it and was suddenly standing in the middle of a Gallery of Rare Artwork.
There were beautiful depictions of all sorts of places and people. The grandest was a knight fighting a 5 headed dragon in a giant tapestry. Staying here to view them all and soak in the rich history within would have been interesting but there would be more time for such things later. The doors to a sitting room were open to the west. The room had magnificent windows that stretched to the ceiling. Black, green runed curtains blacked out the light which would have poured into the room. A tray with a crystal bottle with a stopper of the same crystal was laid out ready for someone to drink with only one glass set out. After sitting luxuriously in the couch next to the table with the tray, she picked up a small card from the tray. It said merely "Drink Me".
Pouring the drink into the short glass she held it to her lips and inhaled gently. Her sense of smell was acute now and the alcohol burned at her nostrils but there was something more.
Sipping the glass, she felt the familiar sting and smooth texture of chilled, pure alcohol. There was more to this she thought, another sip and she nearly bit the glass involanterily. The Leather Tome she found in the crypt glowed again and she opened it:
(Scrolled ina very neat handwriting, glowing Gold)
I hope you're enjoying the luxuries of this Manor it's been my home for the past 20 years. I've shared it with close friends for most of those years but haven't seen them in quite some time. Here is where we spent countless hours preparing for the moment we achieved last night. These halls have secrets but they did not reveal the actual elixir that transformed us. That was the work of the past 50 years, it sounds like a long time and it would be if we were not already gifted with long life.
The object of our desire was not immortality, but the desire to transcend. To break free of the clandestine and terrestrial and delve into the secret realms of this world. There were those whom I very much desired to help through all this and I will reveal why and whom soon enough. You have such great potential, I only ask that you obtain it eventually. There is one thing I must warn you about, but it can wait. For now enjoy the drink and when you're ready, open the curtains.
(Again the book shut on its own and sealed itself)
No wonder the drink was so enticing. She poured more and sipped it, wondering what could be outside. There were new feelings, she could tell, that coursed through her like knowing how to move her hands. It was that easy to tell there was someone outside. Waiting for her.
Kids? Really?
Pika stood in the middle of the orphanage. His eyes strayed to a little girl who looked at him questioningly. Pika stood frozen until a child is heard crying upstairs. SHIT! Pika looked around in a panic. What the hell was he supposed to do. His eyes locked with the little girl who still stood staring at him as if asking her for help.
"Mister, that's Milly she's prolly hungry. You gonna feed her?"
Pika looked down at the child in front of him and up at the ceiling above him.
"What's it eat?" Pika asked with a deep frown. The little girl stared at Pika worriedly. Was the orphanage seriously putting this guy in control? He looked like a lost kid himself. Slowly, moving her hands in a motion of eating, the little girl says
"Sheeee eeeaaaats fooooooood... You know what food is, don't you Mister?"
Pika snapped his chin down and glared at the young child. That little brat.
"Well where is the food, smartass?" Pika asked in an irritated tone. The young child simply shook her head and turned away. She picked up a dirty doll that rested against a wall along her way, skipping down a long hallway.
What... The... Hell... Pika glared back at the door Ror had left through and climbed the stairs to see about the crying baby. There had to be some kind of assistant around here! Where were they? A cook? Someone! Panic set in as Pika started his first official day as caretaker of the orphanage, a task he clearly was not prepared for.
"Mister, that's Milly she's prolly hungry. You gonna feed her?"
Pika looked down at the child in front of him and up at the ceiling above him.
"What's it eat?" Pika asked with a deep frown. The little girl stared at Pika worriedly. Was the orphanage seriously putting this guy in control? He looked like a lost kid himself. Slowly, moving her hands in a motion of eating, the little girl says
"Sheeee eeeaaaats fooooooood... You know what food is, don't you Mister?"
Pika snapped his chin down and glared at the young child. That little brat.
"Well where is the food, smartass?" Pika asked in an irritated tone. The young child simply shook her head and turned away. She picked up a dirty doll that rested against a wall along her way, skipping down a long hallway.
What... The... Hell... Pika glared back at the door Ror had left through and climbed the stairs to see about the crying baby. There had to be some kind of assistant around here! Where were they? A cook? Someone! Panic set in as Pika started his first official day as caretaker of the orphanage, a task he clearly was not prepared for.
Log: 22092013 - Ror and Arien
OOC commentary: The start of Arien's entry RP into Tripower. Fitting for a merchant! :)
Vodka Tonic
(From the inside of a coffin)
What a nightmare, she thought, dreams of such Blood and Carnage she had never experienced. It was as if hell itself had been whispering in her ear the most terrifying thoughts. How long had she endured this torture? Was it meant to be torture? What had she been doing the night before? A Sorceror's Laoratory came to mind and draughts and drafts of the Undead Tonic she had been brewing rushed through her thoughts like the Blood through her viens.
Careless disregard for her own life had driven her near to Madness and the hellish Nightmare may in fact be her reality. Pushing at the lid to her coffin it opened into a dark crypt. She was underground and in pitch darkness but could see perfectly well. It wasn't real she thought, none of this could be. Then she noticed the man held prisoner in the corner, struggling to undo his binds. Foolish mortal, she thought, those were magical knots. The more he squirmed the tighter they became.
The rush of blood soaked images told her exactly what to do and with her new unholy strength, she lunged at the man. Teeth that were once slightly long and pointed, almost cute, elongated into depth and blood producing fangs that tore at the mans throat. His whimpers couldn't turn to cries for help under her power. He stared terrified beyond believe at what was happening. She drank lustily, spilling the crimson tide across herself and the mans Vectorian robes. As she drank her fill the rush subsided from her and allowed her to take account of what had transpired.
There was a book, bound in leather with beautiful blue pulsing runes on a table not far from the elegant coffin from which she had just awoken. Sitting at the table which only had one chair, she opened the book.
(Scrolled in a very neat handwriting, glowing Gold)
We've done it, not for long life but to prove it could be done. Elves live truely long lives as it is but we have found a way to circumvent reality itself. I have made arrangements which should be to our liking.
I am you and you are I. There is no escaping this but I fear that drinking this tonic shall require us to start again. There is however much to remember and I'm sure since we now have all the time we need, there will be enough to catch up.
Remember, we have done this with good intentions. The man was worthless, a truely vile individual. Fear not that you took his life. When you are ready, this tome will reveal all that has transpired in the past few years but until then, know that we found a Tonic that would transform us into the most powerful being we could become. It was the labor of most of my life and it is not the will of the insane. I have not lost control of my magic, we have enhanced it beyond measure.
You have friends, they may not recognize you nor you them but they are out there. They should prove helpful in the months to come. Aid them with your strength.
Remember always that I love you and our mind will be whole soon.
(The book closed on its own and sealed magically)
Beautiful robes of satin and silk were on the wall, but the suit of dragon hardened platemail next to it was more attractive to her thoughts. Both would have their uses. For now, I would need to be secretive, there were those that would hunt her for what she was, she knew this. Dropping the loose fitting black robes she was wearing to the floor, she walked to the robes which felt incredible to the touch. There was a strength to them. Amplified through magic. The dark fabric was lined with blues and reds. They flowed around her, pefectly sized. A large moneypurse was in one of the folds and she figured out quickly how to open the secret fold to get at it like finding an old jacket and exploring the pockets.
She smiled with her fangs in the mirror next to her and saw a beautiful women with 2 pointed teeth. And this was only the begining.
What a nightmare, she thought, dreams of such Blood and Carnage she had never experienced. It was as if hell itself had been whispering in her ear the most terrifying thoughts. How long had she endured this torture? Was it meant to be torture? What had she been doing the night before? A Sorceror's Laoratory came to mind and draughts and drafts of the Undead Tonic she had been brewing rushed through her thoughts like the Blood through her viens.
Careless disregard for her own life had driven her near to Madness and the hellish Nightmare may in fact be her reality. Pushing at the lid to her coffin it opened into a dark crypt. She was underground and in pitch darkness but could see perfectly well. It wasn't real she thought, none of this could be. Then she noticed the man held prisoner in the corner, struggling to undo his binds. Foolish mortal, she thought, those were magical knots. The more he squirmed the tighter they became.
The rush of blood soaked images told her exactly what to do and with her new unholy strength, she lunged at the man. Teeth that were once slightly long and pointed, almost cute, elongated into depth and blood producing fangs that tore at the mans throat. His whimpers couldn't turn to cries for help under her power. He stared terrified beyond believe at what was happening. She drank lustily, spilling the crimson tide across herself and the mans Vectorian robes. As she drank her fill the rush subsided from her and allowed her to take account of what had transpired.
There was a book, bound in leather with beautiful blue pulsing runes on a table not far from the elegant coffin from which she had just awoken. Sitting at the table which only had one chair, she opened the book.
(Scrolled in a very neat handwriting, glowing Gold)
We've done it, not for long life but to prove it could be done. Elves live truely long lives as it is but we have found a way to circumvent reality itself. I have made arrangements which should be to our liking.
I am you and you are I. There is no escaping this but I fear that drinking this tonic shall require us to start again. There is however much to remember and I'm sure since we now have all the time we need, there will be enough to catch up.
Remember, we have done this with good intentions. The man was worthless, a truely vile individual. Fear not that you took his life. When you are ready, this tome will reveal all that has transpired in the past few years but until then, know that we found a Tonic that would transform us into the most powerful being we could become. It was the labor of most of my life and it is not the will of the insane. I have not lost control of my magic, we have enhanced it beyond measure.
You have friends, they may not recognize you nor you them but they are out there. They should prove helpful in the months to come. Aid them with your strength.
Remember always that I love you and our mind will be whole soon.
(The book closed on its own and sealed magically)
Beautiful robes of satin and silk were on the wall, but the suit of dragon hardened platemail next to it was more attractive to her thoughts. Both would have their uses. For now, I would need to be secretive, there were those that would hunt her for what she was, she knew this. Dropping the loose fitting black robes she was wearing to the floor, she walked to the robes which felt incredible to the touch. There was a strength to them. Amplified through magic. The dark fabric was lined with blues and reds. They flowed around her, pefectly sized. A large moneypurse was in one of the folds and she figured out quickly how to open the secret fold to get at it like finding an old jacket and exploring the pockets.
She smiled with her fangs in the mirror next to her and saw a beautiful women with 2 pointed teeth. And this was only the begining.
Log: 21092013 - Ror and Pika
OOC commentary: Giving Pika some more responsibility... the hard way! :D
Log: 20092013 - Ror and Pika
OOC commentary: First encounter with the punk Pika. Of course Ror recognizes a punk when he sees one. He used to be a punk himself when he was young!
Knights of the Blue Rose
The sky darkened on the horizon and the win sped up blowing back the cape of the middle aged man who stood with his black leather boot upon the side rail of the ship. His hand hung on the suport line of the mizzen mast. Lady luck never favored this man so he made his own luck. The black dark blue cape that blew fully in the wind now revealed blue swashbuckler attire which belied the reinforced leather and chainmail beneath it. It was a night like this which started this mad adventure years ago.
His well kept goetee was as black as the rest of his now shoulder length hair. Hi weathered skin seemed to accentuate the sadness within his blue eyes which changed with all the colors of the sea and all the rich complexities of the northern ice. Gulls rushed past the ship escaping the storm. Lightning flashed in the distance and he stared at it like an old adversary. The blades at his side would not avail him. The sea was a cruel mistress that could not be tamed but such feable constructs. The port of New Thalos was visible on the horizon though and nothing would prevent him from setting foot on the soil of his homeland. Not this time. The Bell in the port rang out and he could just hear it due to how far the wind could carry the sound. It was the same bell which he had lost site and sound of so many years ago.
(Zelgadis' thoughts shift to the past)
The knife plunged into wood, the long blade sinking halfway into the ships hull beneath the strong well muscled arm of the now shirtless and armorless knight. Crimson blood mixed with salt water and stung the mans eye which had suffered a terrible gash. He pulled himself out of the sea, now colored black in the tumoltuous storm. The red ribbon which had once held the knife to his arm blew freely in the wind, whipping at his wrist. Staring back at the storm through his one good eye he cursed at the storm. The grand ship which was once his flagship of his merchant fleet and this storm had lifted it out of the sea and thrown it like a grain of sand.
He searched the horizon, rain falling down slower now, the sea becoming more calm. There were no ships on the horizon, no sailors swimming for their lives. No gulls, nothing but the cruel black sea.
(His thoughts return to the present)
It was 5 years ago. Five damned years since he'd seen this port. The port was rapidly approaching, an airship guiding their path with powerful makou floodlights. As they came about to a dock, sailors threw large ropes over the side and he jumped the few feet to the dock. He marched down long pier, cape still billowing behind him. The dockmaster was in a small stone hut at the end of the docks where it became dry land.
"Business or Pleasure Sir," The dockmaster greated him.
"Both, I'm here to take back what's mine." Zegladis stared down the cowardly man with his one good eye and the man sat down in his chair. He tossed coins at him to pay the docking fees and made his way to the center of town to find more travel arrangements.
His well kept goetee was as black as the rest of his now shoulder length hair. Hi weathered skin seemed to accentuate the sadness within his blue eyes which changed with all the colors of the sea and all the rich complexities of the northern ice. Gulls rushed past the ship escaping the storm. Lightning flashed in the distance and he stared at it like an old adversary. The blades at his side would not avail him. The sea was a cruel mistress that could not be tamed but such feable constructs. The port of New Thalos was visible on the horizon though and nothing would prevent him from setting foot on the soil of his homeland. Not this time. The Bell in the port rang out and he could just hear it due to how far the wind could carry the sound. It was the same bell which he had lost site and sound of so many years ago.
(Zelgadis' thoughts shift to the past)
The knife plunged into wood, the long blade sinking halfway into the ships hull beneath the strong well muscled arm of the now shirtless and armorless knight. Crimson blood mixed with salt water and stung the mans eye which had suffered a terrible gash. He pulled himself out of the sea, now colored black in the tumoltuous storm. The red ribbon which had once held the knife to his arm blew freely in the wind, whipping at his wrist. Staring back at the storm through his one good eye he cursed at the storm. The grand ship which was once his flagship of his merchant fleet and this storm had lifted it out of the sea and thrown it like a grain of sand.
He searched the horizon, rain falling down slower now, the sea becoming more calm. There were no ships on the horizon, no sailors swimming for their lives. No gulls, nothing but the cruel black sea.
(His thoughts return to the present)
It was 5 years ago. Five damned years since he'd seen this port. The port was rapidly approaching, an airship guiding their path with powerful makou floodlights. As they came about to a dock, sailors threw large ropes over the side and he jumped the few feet to the dock. He marched down long pier, cape still billowing behind him. The dockmaster was in a small stone hut at the end of the docks where it became dry land.
"Business or Pleasure Sir," The dockmaster greated him.
"Both, I'm here to take back what's mine." Zegladis stared down the cowardly man with his one good eye and the man sat down in his chair. He tossed coins at him to pay the docking fees and made his way to the center of town to find more travel arrangements.
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