There is a world, where elves, fairies, dwarfs and men roam. Where dragons rule the skies, and where a lonely king rules his vast kingdom justly and with compassion. This is the Kingdom of Arcadia.... or... it used to be... The lonely old king has recently died with no heir to take the throne... at least one not in this realm....
This plunges the kingdom of Arcadia into chaos, and from the chaos rises a conniving Necromancer, power hungry and lusting for the throne. With the devastating force of his scourge army he manages to take the throne all for himself, ruling with an iron fist. He dines at banquet, while the people starve. He cares not for others -only for power, and he refuses to relinquish his power... even to the rightful heir of the throne... He'll kill them first. He plans to kill them as it is.
Jake Callahan has just turned twenty one and holding his little brother's hand, has just finished burying their mother. Cancer can be a real shit show, and so can deadbeat dads you’ve never met. That’s why he had to drop out of high School, he had to be the man of the family. School had always been easy anyway, so Jake dropped out, and one month later had his GED. Since he was sixteen he’s worked, currently a construction worker he did everything he could to make sure his mother had her medication, could go to radiation therapy, and that his brother gets his actual diploma. However, when Jake and Dex go through their mother’s old things while packing to move out of their trailer into a nicer apartment, they find an old trunk. It's full of things they discover belonged to the father. By a stroke of fate they find themselves transported to a completely different world…
There they will make new friends, find a new lease on life, and heal from the loss of their mother. They will also find themselves swept up into an all out war to save their new home. They just have to defeat the Necromancer King and his army of vicious Scourge
Only then can Jake take his rightful place… on the King’s throne… on their Father’s throne. In order to do that though, he's going to need a lot of help...
I will be playing Jake, and an extra character, with plenty of Minor NPCs for all to use. I need the Sibling . I also need a leader of the Arcadian Resistance, a civilian effort to overthrow the Necromancer. This character can be male or female. I would like to have a variety of characters, from elves to dwarfes, and everything in between . This is a semi-lit, to literate rp. I want well thought out posts, with good grammar and minimal errors. I doesn't have to be perfect, but I do ask it be legible. I do not want to implement a character limit, but I will if I have to. Please fill out the skeleton and submit it in your PM. Please title your PM "Goodness, Gracious..."
[center [pic http://i68.tinypic.com/90wr3q.jpg ]] [center [b Jake Callahan - TAKEN]] [center Username: Darien] [center Age:21, Human Male] [center Likes: He's not really sure these days, he's been too busy living to make ends meet. It's fair to say he's just happy when he's got a few extra bucks to his paycheck after paying all the bills. He'll be even happier once his sister starts college and makes something of herself. He likes dogs and animals, and working with his hands.] [center Dislikes: Self-centered ass holes. Misogynists, elitists.... just... people... he's never met a person he's actually liked... and he's definitely never met a woman who didn't end up breaking his heart. What he really hates is Cancer for taking his mother away from him.] [center Powers: He has those? Can't wait to figure them out! ] [center Loyalty: To his sister, but he begrudgingly comes to support Arcadia and their plight -accepting his role in the kingdom] [center Short Bio/History: You already read it. High School Drop out, GED weilding construction worker pulling 50+ hours a week to put food on the table for his family, and make sure the lights in their shitty trailer stays on.]
[center [pic https://s18.postimg.org/si9fufz9l/2017-12-12-15-49-22-898-304x197.jpg]] [center [b BROTHER-TAKEN]] [center Name: Dexter Callahan 'Dex'] [center Age/Race/Gender: 17, Human, Male] [center Username: -GIMME-] [center Likes: Studying, wildlife, sketching/painting, exploring, and adores his older brother. Shameless sweet tooth, will eat all food with the enthusiasm of a black hole.] [center Dislikes: Lettuce, cruelty, liars, and doesn't care for comments regarding his stature. Also does not enjoy being insulted, beware the sharp tongue. ] [center Powers: --- yet to be seen] [center Loyalty: To his brother, but will find other kindred souls in Arcadia.] [center Short Bio/History: Dexter has always been very intelligent, but also started out rather sickly. He had asthma and some developmental delays as a small child, leaving his body to pick up the pieces now that he has all but conquered the ailment and must still combat the remnants of his past frailty from time to time. Dex is a trooper, though, and has done exceptionally well the past six years on willpower and store-bought vitamins alone. He has vowed not to rest until he has become someone his brother can be proud of, and he has acted and studied accordingly thus far. Unfortunately, a childhood of fantasy books, wild bedtime stories, and his not being able to go anywhere but to school and home again have made quite the adventurer out of him, and he fears very little. He has secretly been picking up hours at the local library as a tutor and slipping the money into his brother's wallet when he thinks he's not looking, or will go food shopping when he deems it necessary.]
[center [b Arcadian Resistance Leaders- OPEN]]
[center [b Original Characters - ACCEPTING APPLICATIONS]]
[center [pic http://i67.tinypic.com/15gdshl.jpg]] [center [b Priestess of Arcadia]] [center Name: Aria Tolshiv] [center Username: Darien] [center Age/Race/Gender: 20, Druid female] [center Likes: Birdsong, children, copious amounts of prayer, and the sweet cakes the baker once made before the Necromancer swept into the Capital and destroyed her home and the locals who rebelled against the Necromancer with her. She does miss those cakes... she honestly misses the jovial old Baker more.] [center Dislikes: The Necromancer. She'll see his downfall even if it means her own.] [center Powers: The gift of premonition, Astral Commune&projection , Healing] [center Short Bio/History: Aria was born to a race of magic wielders known as Druids. She was born bearing the mark of the Next High Priestess, chosen by the gods to be their voice and hand in the mortal world. She was raised in the capital under the tutelage of her Temple Elders from the age of 3 when she was taken from her home. When the Necromancer attacked her temple she was taken hostage, raped, tortured, and exploited for her powers. Luckily she managed to escape and has been living with the Arcadian Resistance ever since.]
[center [pic https://mir-s3-cdn-cf.behance.net/projects/404/a3acac24240583.54f8df232e3be.png] [center Name: Aline Wyverngem] [center Age/Race/Gender: 19/ Fae Female] [center Username: Souldreamer] [center Likes: nature and the forest. Her village where she grew up. Flirting- she can be a bit of a flirt, she sees it as a good way to break tension and remain less stressed out- though she also has a serious side.] [center Dislikes: Like most people the Necromancer. She also hates those who harm nature and animals. ] [center Powers?: She has the ability of flight which is granted to her through the wings that can appear on her back. She also has elemental manipulation- she has small control over water and earth specifically. Can understand forest animals. ] [center Loyalty: Arcadia.] [center Short Bio/History: Aline grew up in a small village that was destroyed when she was sixteen years old. She since then joined the resistance. Even though she would not consider herself a fighter she has know seen a lot of battle which has shaped her magic into being more of offensive magic then a defensive type.]
[center [pic https://pm1.narvii.com/6353/b6590d6f634c301ff8c69cb3d65af9df0134a3d2_hq.jpg]] [center Name: Lucilia Fang] [center Age/Race/Gender 22 female Wolf] [center Username ForeverYoung] [center Likes: She loves being outside but how could not. She enjoy sweet berries and honey is always worth the sting. She loves to dance and travel, village festivals where alway her favorite but the war has put a damper on such things. She loved cooking.] [center Dislikes: Tight fitting clothes, being trapped and disloyal people. Never make a promise you can't keep. She hates sour things and most of all Necromancers. ] [center Powers: She can achieve full transformation into her ancestral wolf form and can communicate with other animals] [center Loyalty: Arcadia] [center Short Bio/History: Lucilia, or Lucy as she likes to be called, was separated from her pack at a young age and though she can recall some of her pup days she was too young to retrain any real information about her family. She was taken in by a band of thieves that taught her to clean and fit into small spaces to earn her way and though she may not of called anyone mother or father this was the misfit family that would raise her and love her. She left her group to try and search for that lost pack and find herself. After hearing rumor of wolves in the resistance she sped off to join it.]
[center [pic http://i68.tinypic.com/2n1tjsg.jpg]] [center Name: Taeral Tokesh] [center Age/Race/Gender: 50/Wood Elf/Male] [center Username: NorthernWolves] [center Likes: His daughter, the forest, helping out those in need] [center Dislikes: what the Necromancer did to his daughter, pyromaniacs, liars of various sorts] [center Powers? : Healing, can also transform into a fox.] [center Loyalty : Arcadia] [center Short Bio/History: Whilst he was still 'young', Taerak had been one to go on one adventure after another. He enjoyed travelling to new places, seeing new creatures and people, and challenging his physical and magic skills.But eventually he decided to settle down. He married a female human, and had one daughter. Unfortunately, the mother died abruptly while he was away on business, leaving him the sole parent of his daughter. He named her Anara, after his wife, and spent as much time as he could with her. Even though the adventures were not those that he had experienced, it had left so many joyful memories for him. But that why it was so the more painful, when the day came when his daughter had been corrupted and fled. Grief overtook him, and he struggled through the five stages of grief. He knew that he would not be able to find her, but at least he could help those fighting the Necromancer. He knew how to fight, but his healing magic was a great tool. The whole time he was helping the resistance movement, he would hear all sorts of stories about a most devilish woman. He knew who that woman was; his daughter. Now that the Saviors were seen by the Priestess, he wants to go on this journey, and getting back his daughter.]
[center [pic http://i68.tinypic.com/mmv41v.jpg]] [center Name: Aramis] [center Username: NPC ] [center Age/Race/Gender: 36, Arcadian Male] [center Loyalty: Arcadia] [center Likes: Structure, discipline, adventures, working out, hunting, and cats. ] [center Dislikes: The Necromancer, because seriously, who does? Despite being a warrior, Aramis dislikes battle and war, but he enjoys a good brawl.] [center Powers: A skilled warrior, Aramis has quick reflexes, superb hearing and vision, but no magical powers.] [center Short Bio/History: Aramis is a native of the Capital and has always served the Royal House. When his king fell, Aramis was away on the battlefield and survived with a handful of other warriors to learn of their king's death. Upon learning that The High Priestess was still alive, he volunteered for the mission to help save her and free her, knowing that she had been like a daughter to their beloved King. It was Priestess Aria who convinced him and the other knights to stay with the resistance. ]
[center [pic http://i66.tinypic.com/2d6rywk.jpg ]] [center [b The Necromancer]] [center His true name is unknown, as everyone simply calls him Necromancer. After the death of King Hawthorn, the Necromancer attacked the Capital fortress of Arcadia. He swept through the city with his army of Dragur laying waste to any in his path, and toppling the Holy Temple in the process. Content to kill every member of faith, The Necromancer kept the holiest figure in Arcadia alive, surprisingly unable to bring himself to kill her. He who is made of death and darkness, found himself attracted and desirous of the light and life the Priestess possessed. The Necromancer always craved power, and when he had the opportunity to take the empty throne of Arcadia, he did so without remorse. Those who did not flee in time from the Arcadian Capital were enslaved or murdered. A Year has now passed and it seems the Necromancer is on the throne for good, but the Resistance proves tenacious, and a thorn in his side.] [center He is dark, calculating, cold, indifferent, a trickster, and egotist. He enjoys the shadows, the wails of a person in pain, torture, power, and wealth. He dislikes disloyalty, those who are loyal are rewarded graciously. He hates people, especially fairies, and hates his obsession with the High Priestess who he craves to have and to control, and it's not just because of her power and influence over the people of Arcadia. He will, at all costs, destroy any who dare to claim the kingdom from him and will do what he can to hunt down the Priestess and have her back. Though she will need punished first for running away from him.]
[center [pic http://hdblackwallpaper.com/wallpaper/2015/09/black-anime-character-32-free-hd-wallpaper.jpg]] [center Name: Icrasus] [center Age/Race/Gender: 23 year old male] [center Username: Foreveryoung ] [center Likes: Icrasus loves to mess with people, if he can find a way to get under people skin he will. He enjoys the darker things in life, what is life without a little gore violence. He also enjoys the finer things, good food, rich wine, easy women and anything that is worth value and sparkles.] [center Dislikes: He hates being played, if he isn't going to come out on top then he would rather not play. He hates bitter things and people who think they are holy. He can't stand repetive noises.] [center Power: Sharpen Senses. He can control the shadows but has yet to manage molding them into anything more than an illusion. The longest he has been able to control a solid shadow form is five minutes.] [center Loyalty: Necromancer] [center Short Bio/History: Icarcus comes from a family that once royal before his grandfather betrayed Arcadia. They where exiled and he was raised in poverty until his abilities began to manifest. The Necromancer took him in and trained him, he now works as spy, gathering information on Arcadia for the Necromancer.]
[center [pic http://i67.tinypic.com/akzbif.jpg]] [center Name: Anara Tokesh] [center Age/Race/Gender: 26/Were-fox/Female] [center Username: NorthernWolves] [center Likes: She has no 'likes'. All her 'likes' belong in her past.] [center Dislikes: Hunters, everything the Necromancer dislikes.] [center Powers? : Can transform between a human and a fox. Create illusions.] [center Loyalty: Necromancer] [center Short Bio/History: Nothing really special about her childhood, until she began experimenting with magic. Through this magic experimentation, the Necromancer corrupted her until she was his servant. Even though she is corrupted, her previous persona still exists inside of her.]
[b Just a few things/rules:] -This is a fantasy world, and I'm generally laid back about a lot of things. Pictures can be realistic, digital art, or anime -just nothing generic or too large. -All ES rules apply -no exception -This is not first come, first serve -Romance is allowed, but nothing instant please. -Absolutely NO god-moding or power-playing, If I see this I will call you out on it and you will be removed from the rp if no changes are made. -Please no characters that always have to have the attention on them. For Example, always being injured or attacked, fainting, etc... Share the floor for everyone to have their moment to shine. Everyone gets to be a hero, not just one person all the time. -I do allow Expanding Dialogue. For example: My character has dialogue in a post, you are free to copy and post some of it to most of it to elaborate on for your own character's dialogue. ursing is allowed -must be at least 18 years of age to apply . -No you can't always be the hero, let everyone have their chance to shine -You can play multiple characters, just please don't over whelm yourself. - If you are unable to post or continue with the RP please let me know. -if you have not posted within ten days you will be warned and your turn skipped. I also reserve the right to kill off your character or replace them, if you fail to post in a timely manner. I feel ten days is plenty of time to respond when in a group rp.. -This is an original RP idea, please do not steal it! -Put 'Great Balls of Fire!' at the end of your PM so I know you read the rules. -I have not decided if this will be a 1x1 or a multi-player thread. If you would prefer a 1x1, please PM and mention that when you submit your skeleton. -I may ask you for a Sample Post pending your skeleton
[b This RP will start at the end of the funeral and segway right into the siblings trip to Arcadia. Fair warning, my intro posts are lengthy and do not reflect how I generally write.]
Roleplay Reply. Do not chat here. (50 character limit.)
From the crowd that gathered, the knight spotted those who volunteered to join the party. No one else seemed to want to go, but those who had stepped forward seemed worthy and prepared. Lucille Fang, was a young She-wolf who had recently joined the resistance. Eager to find her lost pack and hoping to find clues with the other wolves. There was the Fae beauty Aline Wyverngem, who while small was mighty. She had been with the resistance since the beginning and had proven her mettle time and time again. Finally to join the group was the experienced healer, Taerel Tokesh. While older than most of the members of the Resistance was fairly young for a Wood Elf. For now the trio would have to do.
The knight allowed them time to gather their materials and travel bags, for this would not be a simple day trip. Once they had returned to his position, he led them from the camping grounds towards the Long House and Stables. The long house was generally used for serving meals and meetings. Made of thick wood, it was a sturdy structure but nothing spectacular. The stables were just as rundown as the other buildings on the old farm that they had turned into their camp.
The Knight led the group of volunteers into the stables and there waiting was a selection of Horses. “Go ahead and choose your ride,” The knight advised them, and once they were chosen a noise greeted them all at the door to the stables. The renowned knight Aramis stood leading a beautiful calico ride and a grey mare. Atop the dappled grey sat none other than the High Priestess. It had not been stated that the Priestess would be riding out with them, so it was a pleasant surprise to those who had volunteered. Generally the Priestess never ventured out, but the current situation called for special exemptions from the Priestess’ general rules. “Are these the volunteers willing to ride with her Holiness?” Aramis asked looking at the small group. When the knight confirmed it was, Aramis looked unsure. “So few wish to venture on this historic quest..” he murmured disappointed. Sensing his uncertainty The Priestess smiled at Aramis and those who wished to accompany her.
She looked at each of them individually. She saw their hope, their anger, their regrets, and the wounds on their heart from the losses they had sustained. Before they could mount their rides, she spoke. “Your bravery and commitment to saving Arcadia is much appreciated. I am in your debt for willing to join me on this quest to find The Savior. We must make haste for we are not going to be the only ones looking for them, and soon it will be known to the Necromancer that the Savior has arrived. We have little time.”
It was without much ado, that the group of rebels rode out with their Priestess into the forests of Arcadia. The roads were too dangerous for them to travel, and The Priestess had seen where they were to arrive. North of the Resistance camp, and west of the Capital was a collection of ruins from when Dragon’s still ruled the skies. It was legend that ruins were once a massive hall that boasted the first Rider’s Guild. The Dragons and their riders had lived, and met in those ruins and there had once been a dragon hatchery. Now it was no more than crumbled stone set in a grassy field. It was fitting that their Savior would meet them where so many other saviors and hero’s of Arcadia had once called home. The ruins were known as Grendel Falls, named so for the first Dragon to take Rider and the fact that it sat on a tall grassy hill top at the beginnings of the Mountains and surrounding the hill were several waterfalls, making the trek to the Ruins difficult and dangerous... if one did not know the way.
The trek to Grendel Falls did allow for our group to become aquainted with one another, forging friendships and trust that would no doubt help them succeed in retrieving the Savior and returning to Base Camp.
His hands came away warm, wet, and red with blood. He let out a sigh of relief, this was nothing than a big gash on the body. The cut hadn't cut too deep, it had only cut down the entire length of the leg. Thanks the gods that this person was not bleeding to death; if the cut had been shifted by just a bit to the right, this person would have bled out.
He murmured a minor healing spell, and the gash disappeared. The person, a human, had been in panic and shock when they had brought him and his family in. The whole family bore the cruel injuries of the Necromancer's work. Not one was spared, such was the disregard of the Necromancer for human life.
Checking up on the others, the healers had managed to stabilize the rest. Satisfied that each and every one was stabilized, he walked off to wash his hands.
A bowl of water stood on the table, its sole purpose to wash hands. But as he plunged his hands into the cool depths of the water, his mind returned to the story the man had told while healing him. The family had been living on a farm before the Necromancer decided to have some fun with them. Torture, beatings, stealing, all a cruel mockery. He felt disgusted at such actions, but he also felt lost. The man had described only one perpetrator of such a devious act, the man was sure there had been only one person. The description the man gave to him was one Taeral had heard many times.
It was the description of his daughter.
He had not realized what had happened to Anara on that day. He had thought that she had been lost, and as a responsible parent he had went out to try and locate her. She had meant everything to him, especially after his wife had died.
It was during his searches that he started to hear rumors about a new agent the Necromancer had. They were merely rumors, until the bodies of the dead had begun to mount. Those lucky enough to survive, by a miracle, told vivid descriptions of this new, ruthless agent of the Necromancer. The first few times he had heard it, Taeral could not believe it. But as the victims and the stories mounted, it finally came to him.
It tore his heart apart.
He went deep into the woods and cried heavily. His daughter, his precious gem, gone forever into the wind.
With a deep sigh Taeral pulled his hands out of the water. Instead of red hands, there were pale white hands. A white towelette hung nearby, he used this to dry his hands.
Lifting the flap and ducking under it, he walked outside. He noticed a gathering, and quite a big one for a matter of fact. No such gathering occurred, unless something was afoot.
Nearing the group of Rebel fighters, he stopped. There was no need to push or shove to get closer, the knight would yell his message loud and clear for all present to hear.
The Savior?? He blinked in surprise. A prophecy had come true? He was shocked. He did know about the prophecy, but had never really bothered about it. Like most prophecies, he didn't bother unless they actually happened; one had happened, right here and now!
A female with wolfish ears and tails stepped up and accepted, she looked so young to go out on such an adventure that could cost her her life. Another female, this time a Fae stepped up. Both had to be younger than him, and hadn't seen half of the things he had seen.
Complete and total disbelief.
But, maybe he could join this adventure. Such a group, traveling in constant peril needed an experienced healer. And maybe, just maybe, he would be able to see his daughter one last time.
The room was dark, pitch black like a night sky with no stars and moon to light up the sky. The only source of light came from an open window, casting a rectangle of light upon a small table.
The small table was simple in design, entirely constructed out of a red colored wood and a simple tripod for support. The table was waist height, and always stood at the same exact place near the window.
A curious incident was unfolding on the table. A rose lay on a table, as if it were asleep. The light casting itself upon the rose as if it were a lover whispering through a window brought out the red petals of the rose, then green stem and leaves, and the sharp hooks on the rose. But the rose then began to look less and less healthy, it appeared as if it were in the process of accelerated death. The deep red color faded and the leaves crumpled, while the green stem and leaves lost their light green color and shrunk, all until the rose was merely a crumpled heap of nothingness. The rose lay like that for awhile, before it miraculously sprang back into its original form.
The question begs, was the rose a real rose? One could see it on the table, see its deep red petals and light green stem and leaves. One couldn't smell the rose, but that was because roses did not smell; at least the red ones. But if one were to walk up to the rose and touch it, one would not be able to feel the smooth stem, feel the tickling from the leaves, nor the sharp hooks on the stem off the rose. One's brain would be confused. How was it possible to see the rose which appeared so real, but it was impossible to touch it?
The rose was merely an illusion, and illusions could not be touched.
The person behind the illusion, sat on a chair which was made of the same material and in the same fashion as the person. She sat in the shadows, her sharp brown eyes staring at the rose intently, as if attempting to decipher something hidden in the rose. Her long, dark brown hair cascaded down her back, covering the dark metallic, light armor she wore above her faded brown shirt and dark pants.
First question, could you see her? If there were light in the room, one would be able to see her. Next check, was it possible to physically touch her? Yes, but one might find themselves with an extreme case of "hit them with the pointy end" and questions asked later over one's dead body. So, she could be seen, and physically touched. So she must be real. Right?
Well, Anara, as was her name, her physical body was there. But something was definitely missing; Anara herself was missing. The person inhabiting the body was still Anara, but it was not the same Anara who had inhabited it a year ago.
Up until a year ago, the Anara who had inhabited the body had been a free-willed woman, having fun with family and friends, developing her magic, practicing her swordsmanship with her dad, and other things.
But a year ago, Anara had stumbled into extremely dark magic by accident. Through this accidental contact, her mind was slowly corrupted by the Necrodancer until she remained a shell to serve him as a master. She caused pain for many, either through her illusion magic or by murdering in cold blood. All in the name of the Necrodancer. Oh how faithfully she had served him, and still was.
She felt a tingle run down her back, her master was summoning her. Something was afoot, something that needed to be dealt with. Else wise, he would not summon her.
The rose vanished into thin air, as the chair scraped the ground and Anara stood up. Stretching her legs and arms from the sleep they had gotten while sitting, Anara then went up to meet her master in the Arcane Vault. Her master was not one for being late, but she did not worry as she walked with a calm and steady gait. It never seemed to her that she arrived to late, more like it felt always at the right moment. "A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to".
Right outside the door, she ran into Icrasus. He was her master's other loyal servant. If both of them had been summoned by her master, something extraordinarily big was afoot. It was rare that she worked with Icrasus, but every time she had worked there was something big afoot.
Entering the Arcane Vault, Anara bowed her head respectfully and stood in the strictest of silence. Never did she speak to her master, unless her master specifically asked her to speak. It was not from fear, but from how much he had corrupted her into becoming his ever faithful servant.
So, one of the master's prizes had been stolen. Those thieves, oh boy did they arise his ire. They would die for their evil act, she would have the greatest of pleasure in slicing through their bodies and watching them die with a happy smile.
The mere mention of ogres, especially mercenaries, the ogres would be no match for la résistance. But those ogres might have a use by downplaying on the resources of her master, giving her and Icrasus an advantage in destroying these people who dared bothering her master.
She would most gladly be more proactive, anything to make her master happier. She, her heart filled with desire, would do anything to steal back her master's treasure and kill the sinful bastards who had taken it away from him.
Her master walked around and up to a beautifully looking bowl. The gold shone and was complimented by the dark, black onyx stones and the dark fog that rose out of it. She did not question the bowl, anything that belonged to him she never questioned.
She never question her master lifting her face by the neck so he could stare her in the eyes while looking down at her. As a matter of fact, she felt an extreme honour whenever this did happen. He also reassured him that his precious servant also remained faithful.
She also never questioned the fact of leaving his service. She was his servant to the bone, and would never leave him; she would rather die in his name then disgrace herself by ditching him.
To avoid this priestess' all knowing mind, her master gave her and Icrasus a pendant. She did not 'like' the pendant. She considered it beautiful, its dark, black stone full of mysteries. But it merely a tool for concealing her thoughts, nothing more and nothing else.
To his question, Anara bowed her head and answered, [+purple "Yes master"], in a monotone tone.
Icrasus walked out first, Anara shortly followed. Icrasus was waiting for her. He talked the whole way that they were together. In all honesty, she wished he would've shut his mouth. But she knew that anything like this got him extremely exciting, and he sometimes overdid things. But to her it did not matter, because her master did not find any problems with Icrasus' methods.
Anara went back to her room and took out two, brown leather sheathes. Inside the sheathes, were two bastard - hand and a half - swords. Their handles were dark, and even the blades seemed darker than usual. Those swords had come from her father, who had forged them for her birthday. This memory, Anara did not have anymore, along with many others.
Buckling the sheathes, one on the right and one on the left hip, Anara threw over herself a dark green traveling cloak. With one last breath, she walked down to the stables, and found her horse in the stables. The horse was black all around, even the eyes as black as the onyx of her pendant which hanged around her neck.
Mounting the horse, she led it outside the stables. There, she sent it off to a gallop, galloping past Icrasus and going on her mission of capturing the priestess.
There was a breeze that rushed through the trees and then through the hair of the young fae girl who sat there. Her eyes closed she took a deep breath in. Being one with nature meant a lot to her. Especially after a night of being one with another random civilian solider. Sometimes focusing on physical needs helped distract her from everything was happening in front of her. The war. The blood. The tears.
The memory of waking up this morning was still fresh in her head. This time it was a male she woke next to. His name was not something she could recall which made it easier to sneak out before he too woke up. Honestly it was her memory of what occurred while she slept that offput her this morning and not the stranger. The nightmare was vivid in picture. It started with her village on fire, her father grabbing her arm and telling her to run and not look back. Her turning around and seeing him die as she ran off. Then it had switched to some future date. Dead bodies had surrounded her, and then a sword went through her torso. That was where it ended. She shivered as she sat there.
Aline stood up brushing the dirt off her legs. It was then that she heard a commotion from the camp. [+skyblue "Time for the real world."] As she walked calmly back into the camp she noticed that there appeared to be an air of hope. Something she had not seen since before her village was set in flames.
She fluidly moved through the crowd that had already formed heading towards the front. The chatter got more intense the closer she got to the front. Soon the people talking came into view and the murmurs from the crowd died. The knight at the front shouted and Aline felt the world around her disappear. A smile seemed to tug at her mouth. The saviour was here. There was a light at the end of the tunnel.
Gracefully, her hand raised up and she stepped through the last of the rebels in front of her. [+skyblue "I would be honored to join you in this quest."] She smiled to the knight and the others who stood there. [+skyblue "I shall quickly grab my things from my tent and then meet back here."]
It was then that she took off in a sprint to get to her tent. Once there she made quick work of putting on clothes suited for the travel and grabbed a couple daggers strapping one to her thigh and the other in a holster on the other side of her body.
She pondered what the saviour would look like. She never had dreamed that she would get the chance to be part of the group that went to meet the saviour upon his arrival. She snapped out of her day dreams.
Aline made her way back to the crowd and back to the group. [+skyblue "I am ready to depart. I apologize for any delay."] There was a sudden feeling of bravery that washed over her as she stood there waiting for their departure.
Lucilia could clearly recall the first time she had had to bare her teeth against the undead. Moments before it had been a pleasant day. The sun was out, the air was fresh, the small town bustling. She had gone out with her some of her friends to spend.some coin she had earned from a hyst. The attack had been so unexpected and terribly horrific. It was a memory she tried not to think upon too long but she could never forget the sensation of her teeth digging into flesh. There was a rotten taste that made her stomach churn and how they would not die even as they killed relentlessly. Many died that day, it was her defining moment.
The next time Lucilia would come across them she would not forget how to bare her teeth, how to rip limbs from body. She had found purpose, a deep anger at the mere sight of them, there was an instinctual need to destroy the untratural army. Lucky for her there where others who felt the same. It was easy enough to follow the resistance, there was security in numbers and plenty of opportunities to fight. She liked fighting.
Even now as things seemed down, had times grew harder as the necromancer held power of the castle her loyalty to the cause gave her reasons to enjoy every moment. Recently the reason for celebration had been the arrival of the priest who had been saved from the grasp of the evil man.
She was in good spirits, sharing stories with other men around the fire when she heard the call of man looking for recruits like the others she perked up. She tilted her head back, her golden gaze sliding across the people gathering. What was this? An adventure, a mission? Her eyes lit up, even her brown wolven ears perked. She was already turning away no longer interested in glory stories of the past when she could live in this moment, feel the excitement fill her body. There was no stopping the young woman as her arm rose, as she pressed forward with a grin.
“I will join you,” she declared loud pushing past others until she stood in front of the messenger more than eager for him to lead the way. She was barely aware of those gathering beside her, all she could think of was the fact the Saviors where here. Who would they be, could trust the Saviors to actually save them. She would have to see them with her own eyes and even better it could be dangerous, she hoped it was dangerous.
Her lips tug up further until she was grinning, her sharp canine poking at her lower lip, at last she would turn her head to see who else would rise to the call.
This whole war had been so profitable, this would not be something you would hear many say but many didn’t know how to take advantage of a situation like he did. He was thankful to the Necromancer, before him he had been nothing, an unwanted thing, but not to him. The Necromancer had wanted him, had taken him out of the filth and given him a chance. Icacrus had always worked hard not to fail the man who had promised to return him to the castle that he belonged. The man kept his promise.
A year ago he had made the mighty fortress his home, had his own room and all the delights he could wish for at his fingertips. It was quite luxurious, thought he had to admit it was boring at times. He was given everything he wanted but where was the challenge? Where was the thrill? He missed twisting people around his fingertips and playing them like puppets. People where more expressive more alive then the broken slaves he was given. He could understand why the Necromancer had enjoyed playing with the priestess for so long.
Icarus thoughts were brought back to the current his gaze sliding across the body of the bare woman before him. She swayed to a silent tune, dancing for his entertainment. Her shadow stretched out, mingling with his. Her eyes were pressed close but fluttered beneath their heavy lids. He was allowing her a pleasant moment, a pleasant illusions to help bring life back to her mind but this was only so he could tear it all away and remind her of her wretched reality. He had planned to twist her mind and make her think that the only way to happiness was by fully serving him
Icarus could feel the tugging at his mind, the tingling down his spine as his master called upon him. He let out a deep breath as his sharp blue gaze darting away from the body swaying before him to the walls behind him, he was wanted. It seemed his plans would have to wait. There was a hint of annoyance as his gaze returned to the woman before him. He had been planning a nice evening in his room, to dine on the finest wine the castle could offer and enjoy the flesh of his newest pet but that would have to wait. Icarus knew better then to leave the Necromancer waiting.
He rose to his feet, a frown on his lips as he peered at her a moment before wondering what he should do with her now. He waved a hand and the spell was broken, he left without word locking the door behind him.
Icarus at almost the same moment as Anara and they would greet their Master together. The news the Necromancer had for him excited him all the way until the point he realized going undercover meant joining the resistance. He could see his current luxury slipping outside his gasp. He imagined the Resistance to be a sad lot in thin tents in some dreary backward swamp lands.
Icacrus watched the Necromancer tilt up Anara’s cheek, he was quickly reminded why he would so be willing to pull up boots and trot through the mud for he liked his innards on the inside and he knew the man before him was a man of his word.
His hand rose to grasp at the pendent, his gaze lingered on the dark stone taking in the man’s words it seemed he would have to be careful to watch his mouth. Already he could think of who he would contact, he knew many fools who thought siding with Arcadia was the better choice and had thought that he too was on their side. Getting in wouldn’t be the problem the problem would be controlling himself. Once more excitement flooded his form, it seemed his boring days were over this should be a challenge.
“Understood,” he responded lifting a hand and shooting the man a salute. It seemed he was dismissed and he had things he had to do to prepare for his journey. Already he knew he would not be able to contact anyone from with in this city he would head out outside the walls and hunt down a wolf, she owed him a favor and he was going to collect. Even though he was filled with urgency he would pause outside the doors with Anara and ask her what her plans where going to be.
“You know,” he would begin as the door closed behind them. “I know quite a few people that could help us get in if you didn’t have anything plan if not then forget I ask,” he stated already moving down the hall.
“Well either I’ll see you outside the gate or I won’t but if I were you I would leave while we had the coverage of darkness to keep us hidden” he informed glancing once behind him before tossing his hand over his shoulder and turning his faze forward. He began to head back to the room, a frown crossing his face. Oh well seemed like he wouldn’t have to time to break his pet or attend the party but at least he could infuriate the rebellion forces, this should be fun.
Icacrus would go about getting a horse ready, finding some thicker clothes and making sure he had a sharp weapon. He was now settle in the saddle, hovering outside the walls of Arcadia he peered back at it unable to see the top as it melted in the night sky. He would wait to see if sullen Anara would be his partner or if she would go her own way.
The Capital was once a gleaming beacon of light for all of Arcadia, now a heavy dark cloud seemed to hang over the city, and a black smog blanketed the streets. Those who had not fled were enslaved or killed, allowing platoons of undead to march unencumbered through the streets. Everything about the once glittering city, now seemed stuck in a state of rot and decay, and it was all because of one creature. The Necromancer.
He stood from his topmost tower of the palace, giving him a birds eye view of his new city. It was his favorite thing to do every afternoon. He would wake up around sunset, and watch the sun set on his morbid little kingdom, and then he would go about his duties under the cover of night. Tonight was different though, tonight marked his first full year being in control of Arcadia, and he was waiting for something. When he had come to Arcadia his desire was purely for the throne, but like all men who crave power with hearts full of greed, he found other treasures he desired to posses. Among those was the lovely Priestess, who only a fortnight ago had been stolen away from him by a handful of remaining Arcadian Knights. The Necromancer did not like it when his things were taken from him, and so he hired a group of Ogre Mercenaries to hunt her down and slaughter whoever was hiding her. No doubt it was the Resistance, and their feeble attempts to overthrow him. For a year he had tried to control their growth, but they proved tenacious and irritating.
There was to be a grand party in his honor tonight, but the Necromancer had no desire to attend it, instead he wanted his two faithful servants. With the banging of his staff, a summoning spell was sent out across the palace letting them know he demanded their presence. It did not take long for Icrasus and Anara to find him in his Arcane Vault where he preformed his dark magic. The Necromancer had found them both, and sensing the darkness in their hearts fostered it, and helped it to grow so they might serve him well. Serve they did, and loyal too. Icrasus might have had a penchant for mischief, but more often than not he found it came in handy. While Anara was a cold shell of a person with a singular thought process to do his bidding. They were night and day compared to the other, but they were in a sense his children. Despite his cold and withered heart, he appreciated his two loyal servants and the work they did for him.
When they were finally in the room with him, and had made their greetings he turned to face them, his face shrouded by the shadows of his hooded robes. “Tonight marks a year of our Victory, but it also marks two weeks now that the Priestess has been stolen away. No one steals from me… so I have sent a group of Ogre Mercenaries to find her. No doubt they will be killed if they come in contact with members of the Resistance,” he said, but he held no sympathy for them. In fact, it almost sounded like he had paid them to go die for his own amusement. “I only trust a Mercenary to work for their money, but you two… you work from loyalty and for honor within my court,” His smile gleamed from under the shadows. “I am tasking you both to go undercover. Each of you find groups within the Resistance, gather intelligence and feed it back to me. They’re getting crafty, so we must be proactive in sabotaging their efforts to steal my new kingdom away from me.”
HE walked around a pedestal in the center of the room that held a heavy gold bowl bejeweled with black onyx and filled with an oily black substance that leaked a fog from its surface. The Fog from the bowl trailed down the edges of the pedestal and to the floor where it faded away, but it’s purpose would be revealed at a later time. He stood before his two loyal servants and with one hand reached out for Anara’s face. He lifted her chin up to gaze at her and then he glanced to Icrasus, a wicked smile played on his face. “I am trusting you both with a serious task. If either of you betray me, I will cut you top to bottom, and use your organs for some of my more darker magic. There will be no afterlife for you,” He hissed a warning, dropping Anara’s face. “The priestess fortunately does not know either of your faces, so fooling her should be easy, but be mindful what you say around her… she has the gift of knowing. If you lie to her… she will know, so I give you these,” He conjured for each of them a pendant of black onyx and placed it in their hands. “They will help guard your thoughts and true intentions from The Priestess and The old Mage. Do not lose these or you will have lost my protection. I want weekly reports on the Resistance, their movements, their plans, and if the Priestess truly is there…” He looked to Icrasus then, and even though the NEcromancer’s face could not be seen, it was very clear he gave of look of sever importance. “I want to know, and I want her back. This time I will rip her heart out, and then she’ll belong to me for good. I want to possess that light magic, and I will have it. Am I understood?” When they assured him they did, he gave a single nod of his head. “Good, if you are exposed, or if things get too hot, return back to me. You’re more valuable to me alive than dead. Now Go!”
It still smelled like her… the whole trailer did. They both knew that when they finally made it to home and they both hesitated at the front door, much the same way they did after confirming their mother’s body at the morgue. Only now when they stared at the door an Eviction notice was posted. The Bank knew their mother had just died, the bank knew Jake and Dex had nowhere else to go, but they’d found a buyer for the bayou property that the trailer park sat on. Most of their neighbors were already gone. Jake dug into his own will power and marched up the steps and opened the door for his brother ignoring the notice. Jake knew this might happen, he’d skipped payments on the property to pay for his mom’s medications… maybe he should have made the house payments instead. Mom was still dead and now they’d be losing their home. He’d have to find them an apartment, and no way would the state let him keep Dex if he was homeless. He walked to the small kitchen table and sat down, burring his face in his hands as he tried to work out their dilemma in his head and come up with a solution. “Hey,” he called to Dex, collecting his attention before he could walk away to his room. “Don’t forget, the lawyer is coming by with mom’s will tomorrow morning. I don’t have to work tomorrow, so I’ll be here going through mom’s old stuff. Figure out what to keep and what to pitch, and while you’re out tomorrow, can you grab some of those Renter books from the grocery store? I’m gonna try and find us a place to live,” he attempted to crack a smile “Hopefully somewhere nicer than this dump. Mom’s little Prince needs a castle, not a swamp,” he teased with a smile.
Mother had always called Jake her Knight in Shining Armor, while Dex had always been her sweet Prince. He’d always love his brother, would do anything in the world for him… like going to juvey for nearly killing one of mom’s boyfriends when Jake had caught the perv trying to ‘groom’ Dex. Rat Poison worked easily for a 13 year old when they guy you’re trying to take down is triple your size, what worked better was mom taking a wooden baseball bat to his balls when she found out.
That night Jake had poked his head into Dex’s room to see him in bed sleeping, SAT and ACT prep books laid out on his bed with note papers and a highly abused pencil. Then he went to bed in his room, which was the smallest room in the house, with nothing more than an old lumpy mattress thrown in the corner with bedding from the Salvation Army. His walls were bare, but there was a dresser and one small desk. He had one picture of himself, his brother and his mother sitting in an old frame, and in the corner were his work boots, safety vest, hard hat, and a sling bag filled with other Personal Protective Equipment, like his ear plugs, safety glasses and thick gloves. His tools were all borrowed or hand me downs, but he kept them in a well-cared for tool box. When you grew up piss poor, if you got something you took really good care of it. He fell asleep with his mind in turmoil, and though he tried he couldn’t find it restful in the slightest.
He woke up to the smell of bacon and coffee. Dex must have made breakfast, and as he dragged himself out of bed he shuffled towards the bathroom to relieve himself before entering the kitchen. In the Bathroom he caught his reflection, heavy dark bags circled his green eyes making them muted and nearly lifeless, and his usually tan skin was paler than normal. He cringed, he couldn’t afford getting sick right now, and he knew he needed to sleep better but that was pretty difficult to do when you dealt with the shit he did. He was fortunate to find the kitchen empty when he entered it, but there was a plate made and sitting on his place at the table. He assumed Dex had gone out to the Library again.
He had managed to chew on one piece of bacon and sipped from an old Ninja Turtles mug when he heard the front door rattle from a knock. He was in one of two pairs of pajama pants that he owned and walked to the door to find a middle aged and awkward man holding a battered briefcase to his chest. “Is this the home of the late Fiona Callahan?” he asked and without a word Jake ushered him inside and towards the kitchen table. “Thank you, I take it you are her oldest, Jake?” “Yep,” he muttered going back to his seat at the table. The lawyer followed, introducing himself and took up the seat that his mother usually sat. For a long moment Jake didn’t hear a word the man said, just that he was sitting in his mother’s chair, but the voice did eventually reach him when a piece of legal sized paper was slid his way. “Do you understand?” The lawyer asked. Jake blinked, zapping back to reality and looked at the Will and Testament placed before him. “She left you in charge of her affairs. All of her possessions are to be transferred to your name. She wanted to leave you the trailer as well, but the bank has seized the property it seems,” He handed Jake the eviction notice that had been hanging on the front door. He took it reluctantly and set it aside. “I also have the key to a storage unit listed in her will.” He knew which one it was. He’d only gone there to get Christmas decorations once a year and again to put them away. It was a small unit and only cost them $25 a month, so Jake had never pestered his mother about it, besides she had told him there were too many memories in there to throw them away, but not enough room in their home to keep them around. Jake knew what was really in there… their dad’s old things. Things from her life before she had children she couldn’t afford to feed. Things she never had the heart to part with, but couldn’t bear to see.
He went over forms with the Lawyer, signed off on paper work, and when it was all said and done, Jake was left alone with a key to a lonely little storage unit in a ghetto just as bad as his. He bid the lawyer goodbye and jumped into his beat up red Ford pickup. That thing was a relic and rusting out from the chassis, that he was surprise the entire undercarriage hadn’t fallen out from under him every time he drove over a pothole. He wheeled it over to the storage units where he terminated the rental and packed all the stuff up into the bed of his truck and drove home.
Dex was home when he finally made it back from his day out on the town running errands. Without a word, he sat down on the couch to go through the things he found in the storage unit. The first box he opened was an intricate looking trunk he’d never seen before. It was locked, but with a pair of wire cutters from under the front steps he had it broken open and he and Dex stood before the old trunk, its musty smell permeating the room. He noticed strange markings around the lid, but ignored it. A Protective sheet covered the items inside, and Dex was the one to remove it, Jake was there to reach inside it and the first thing he removed was a set of clothes. With one sniff, Jake was shocked to recognize the scent as their fathers… and he realized…. “These are dad’s things…” He whispered, and for a moment he stared at the trunk, not wanting to touch it, but something glittered from under the clothes he had lifted. It sparked his curiosity as Dex removed items as well… what he found made his jaw drop.
They were both staring down at a large sheathed sword. To Jake, it reminded him of the Faux Hammer Gandalf used in the Lord of the Rings movies. It was encased in supple mahogany leather, with gold fastenings, and etched runes. It was the last thing either of them were expecting to find, but when Jake lifted it and unsheathed it in their tiny living room, it rang with power and flashed like a prism in the sunlight it caught. It was a flawless blade, and Jake could feel it like an extension of his arm. His hand molded to the grip of the handle perfectly, and he instinctively knew how to use it to kill an enemy. Curiously he looked back at Dex to see if he’d found anything just as peculiar. They were soon to find out that there was nothing BUT peculiar, out of this world, items inside the trunk. Curiously he looked over the strange markings along the blade, but the more he stared at the strange runes, they began to morph into English and he could read. “Forged in Dragon’s Fire, only the True King may wield its power….” Jake scoffed. This had to be a prop from some cheesy movie, but he continued to read down the blade. “This is the Sword of the One True Dragon King, may all his heirs find their rightful path- SHIT!“suddenly the sword shot from his hand into the TV, pinning it in shattered pieces against the wall. Jake blanched in shock, grabbing Dex and jumping back, for around where the sword had struck, magic was forming a portal to a new world, and though he tried to fight the windy force that pulled them both closer, he had little strength to fight it even as the items in the trunk were pulled from their resting place and into the portal that was dragging them in as well….
The forces that pulled them closer towards the swirling glowing mass on their wall, had Jake clinging to Dex in the hopes of keeping them planted. It didn’t matter what he did, the trunk was tipped over and its contents sucked into the portal. Jake’s feet skid across the floor, dragging the carpet with him, until Dex was finally ripped from his arms and he didn’t think twice before reacting and jumping through to follow him, shouting his name. “DEX!!!” As soon as they passed through the TV fell from the wall shattering on the floor and the entire trailer looked like a tornado had just blown through. It was empty, quiet, and with time… would be a forgotten memory. The cops would later say it looked as if there had been a struggle. Perhaps a home invasion? Kidnapping? Burglary? Homicide? Either way… in the following weeks, Dex and Jake would both be placed on the National Missing Persons list, most likely never to be seen or heard from again…
Jake managed to grab a hold of Dex as they spun out of control in the vortex that carried them. He felt his body stretching, being compressed, all while he protectively crushed Dex against his chest. He imagined this was what it was like to be swept up into a tornado. Chewed up, swirled around, and eventually spit up. Everything was a blur of color, not that he could really see, his eyes were closed. His ears roared with the sound of rushing air from all around him, and his heart raced with uncertainty. What the Hell was going on? What had both Dex and himself touching that sword caused? Where were they going? Was this a dream? He knew it wasn’t a dream when quite suddenly the vortex stopped and they fell from the sky and into soft ground below. Their bodies slammed to the ground and Jake was jarred back to reality. His body had taken the brunt of the fall, protecting Dex from injury. He didn’t recognize the landscape. The trees all looked different, the sky even looked different, right down to the strange mountain range in the distance. The sounds of insects and animals were different than home. The ground was firm, not soggy like their Bayou home, and the air smelled different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the differences even as they laid on the ground with the contents of the trunk littered around them. Jake spent a moment to look over Dex and saw that he was alright.
“Sit tight, I’m going to look around…” Jake murmured and stood up on his feet. Across from him stood the sword, jutting up from the ground. It gleamed in the sunlight, drawing his attention. He reached forward and yanked it from the ground, grabbing its nearby scabbard, and walked into the surrounding brush to look for clues to where they might be. He wasn’t about to wander off very far, as there was no way in Hell he was leaving Dex alone in some strange new place. Alone, he pinched his arm as hard as he could. It hurt. Fuck… that meant this wasn’t a dream. He needed to figure out where they were and what had caused that strange portal. Jake was smart, he knew he was, and so his mind began to turn as he looked up in the sky and saw a distant sun, there was a strange halo in the sky though and the sky was an odd shade of periwinkle, not the clear blue he was accustomed to on Earth. The air was Nitrogen rich, which meant it was at least breathable… the terrain was different, the plant life, and when he did spot an animal in the sky, it didn’t look like any bird he’d ever seen before. Jake was left to theorize that somehow the sword he carried was a key, and it opened what Jake could only call a wormhole, to bring them here: to this Alien Planet. Wherever the fuck they were, Jake knew he had no idea how to get them back home.
[i “The Dragon King prepares to rise. You must find the savior before others do. Guide them to victory, Priestess…] Aria came awake with a start. She had seen him, in her dreams. A premonition! Finally! She had found their savior! The True Heir to Arcadia! The Gods had finally sent her a vision of him. He held the long lost Dragon Fang. The King’s sword… Aria almost couldn’t believe it as she flung her quilt off of her body and turned to light a candle and stepped into her slippers. She slipped and fell back though, and cursed herself silently. She was still healing from escaping the Necromancer. Her ankle was still strained and healing, there was the cracked and healing lacerations on her back from the serrated whip he’d used to beat her. Not to mention her skin still crawled with the feeling of his hands on her. Had it not been for Aramis and the other knights who came to rescue her, Aria was very well aware she would have died trying to make that escape by herself. She was no warrior –but she was a survivor.
Aria sat at the edge of the bed, staring at her feet and willing herself to ignore the aches and pains in her body, even as she tenderly massaged the hand-shaped bruises on her thighs. Something this great could not wait for a council meeting among the other Resistance Leaders. If what she had seen was true, and she was very certain that it was, they had very little time to prepare for the arrival of their savior. The late King, King Hawthorn had been a close friend of Aria’s over the years. They had worked closely with one another, often King Hawthorn would seek Aria out for advice and counsel. He was a sad and lonely man, always staring off out at windows with longing. He never married or bore children, or so Aria had thought. When King Hawthorn died well nearly a year ago he had called Aria to his deathbed, but before she could read him his rites, he forced into her hand a silver heart shaped locket. The same kind he’d worn for as long as Aria could remember –since his return from another world, from Earth. He had said it was a world without magic, but somehow had its own kind of magic –man made called Technology. Aria wore the locket keeping its secret safe with her. She knew what was inside of it –a note in a strange language meant only for one person: Callahan. There was also the picture of a woman’s face on one side, and the faces of a toddler and infant on the other side. Aria did not know who they were exactly, but she had pieced enough together about her old friend to know –had had loved this woman, had children with her, and regretted leaving her every day. Keeping it safe and secret from the Necromancer had been a challenge.
Aria was a beautiful woman of 20 with a willowy figure, and uncommonly fair features of snow white skin and hair, but with the eyes of amethysts. She forced herself to stand up on shaky feet and used the wall as leverage to help her walk down the halls of the fort the Resistance had reclaimed on the borderlands. She had to find someone to help her make preparations to go and find the Savior and bring them here before the Necromancer would figure out the prophecy was coming to pass…. A prophecy that at the age of six, The Divines spoke through Aria to the temple masters. A warning of death had always been there, Risen and cruel, but the return of the Dragon King was imminent, they would need the Savior though. It would happen if they were successful… Only The Dragon King could return Dragons to Arcadia, and only he would be able to command them. Aria couldn’t help but wonder that if the Ancient Riders guild was still present in the world, the Necromancer never would have stood a chance. There were no riders left in this world… The Dragon Riders had faded away over a century ago. None were worthy any more, and so the Dragons had abandoned them all. Aria certainly felt abandoned by them. They had once protected Arcadia, its king and its Priestess. Aria held no resentment though, they left for a reason, and she had to respect that.
She moved slowly through the passage, limping on her sprained ankle, the wrappings only helping her so much; when she spotted a familiar face. “Master Heil!” Aria called. The old Mage turned at the sound of her voice, and his weathered face twisted into one of shock as did the face of the Knight Aramis “Priestess!” Aramis rushed to her side, allowing her to lean on him, and the smell of his leather jerkin and sage cologne reached her. Master Heil was the only known Battle Mage left in Arcadia. Having him on their side was a good thing. “What are you doing out of bed at this hour?” Aria forced a grin. “I could ask you the same thing, old man.” “I felt a change in the air…” “Perhaps I can help with that. I have been given a vision from the Divines.” “A vision? Tell us child, what did you see?” Master Heil rasped, walking with his staff and gazing into Aria’s crystalline eyes. “The Savior is coming. Today.” “Today?” he asked, and when Aria gave a nod of her head, she found herself whisked up into the air and in Aramis’ strong arms where he carried her the rest of the way to the main hall and set her at one of the seats at the large round table. “I will find the others for you, my Priestess,” Aria nodded and watched as the old Mage took up a seat beside her.
Aria knew she wasn’t entirely alone in the room. She could sense a presence in the room with her. Master Heil sensed it too, and watched Aria closely as she turned to look at the low flames of the fire in the hearth and walked towards it and knelt before it. She was receiving another message from the Divines, this time in the fire she saw the exact place where the Savior would arrive. A Priestess by birth, Aria was marked with the Divine symbol. A Dragon eating its own tail, wrapped around an eight pointed star. She was the mouth and hand of the Gods that so many people in Arcadia worshipped. She waited until the other leaders of the Resistance entered before speaking “I have seen the Savior…. We must prepare to greet them. They arrive today, and I have seen where they will be… and… and I want to go with you all,” Aria said firmly, holding her own bravery against these intimidating warriors and strategists who gave little credit to the Divines or mysticism. The Knights of Arcadia believed her and quickly set out to inform the other members of the resistance about what Aria had seen, and set out to find volunteers to go with them in search of The Savior.
“The Priestess has had a vision! She sees the Savior arrives today! Who among you will go with us to secure them and bring them to safety?” A knight shouts to a crowd of gathered Rebel Fighters.
This story begins as many do, at the end of another. For many years the Kingdom of Arcadia has been peaceful and quiet, but that all ended when Arcadia’s beloved King Hawthorn died. There was no heir leaving the seat of Arcadia free for the taking. Other kingdoms attempted to invade Arcadia to steal its wealth and resources, but all failed to take the seat. The Kingdom was guarded by the Knights of Arcadia and the High Priestess. They worked valiantly to defend the kingdom as they searched for a new Monarch to take the throne, but after a year of searching and defending they were defeated.
A dark hoard of undead Dragur appeared on the Northern Boarder coming from beyond the Mountains of Desolation. They never tired, never needed to eat, possessed incredible strength, and fought with a singular purpose: Claim Arcadia and destroy the beacon of light it represented. They were dark times for the Kingdom as the hoard of undead marched through Arcadia, destroying everything in its path. No Survivors, no prisoners… no Mercy.
When they breeched the Capital walls and made their way into the palace we learned who our enemy was. A Necromancer of unknown name and unknown origin now sat on the throne and enslaved the second most powerful figure next to the King. Our Priestess was tortured, exploited and assaulted. Thankfully a group of Arcadian Knights have managed to breech the Palace and steal her away, rescuing her and bringing her deep into the forests where a civilian resistance desirous of reclaiming Arcadia for the people has formed.
The Priestess keeps a secret though. She knows there is an heir to the throne, for King Hawthorn had confided in her many times during the years of their friendship. She was like a daughter to the King and told her many things about his travels around the world and to other worlds. One such place was called New Orleans, and how he met a woman there. He had loved her, and he wanted to bring her to Arcadia to live with him, but it never happened. King Hawthorn’s father passed away, and Hawthorn was ripped from the strange land of New Orleans and returned home where he ruled justly, but was always lonely. Always pinning for his lost love until the day he died. Before he died, he confessed to The Priestess that his love had born a child, a son and another that he never got to meet.
Travelers have come from around the kingdom to rally behind the Knights of Arcadia, their Priestess and to join The Resistance.
You are such a traveler, and you find yourself within the camp of the Resistance ready to offer up your skills and your life in the pursuit of freedom from the Necromancer who grows stronger everyday. The Priestess has seen where The Savior will arrive, will you go and brave the wilds and dangers of The Necromancer’s Arcadia?