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Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2012.12.23 13:19:00 - [1] - Quote ahem. BOW DOWN TO MY SUPERIORITY WRETCHED MORTALS! I AM VYZION EYRI, AND NO IT IS NOT A PHONETIC MANIPULATION OF THE WORD VISIONARY. AT ALL. I lead a tribe of wild logipriests (lol... logipriest) and we assist random lost adventurers out of our untamed, untainted and unexplored jungles. [Terrain] We are unmatched when it comes to swinging on vines, making love, healing wounded comrades and being happy all the time. [Strengths] However, against the vile creature that humans term the 'bunny rabbit', which the coddle and coo at as if it is the cutest creature in the universe, we cannot survive. We have, at great risk to our most experienced logipriest squad, acquired a picture of a malignant bunny. [Weakness] Click at own risk.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2012.12.24 03:20:00 - [2] - Quote Alixenus wrote: The Venezzian trade guild refuses to recognise the Logipriest nation until we have made an ill fated attempt to gauge your strength. As I speak, a squadron of Caravels approach your lands armed with floodgate 9000 water turrets. There is also a Cog armed with a catapult that will rain Stone, Fire and Rabbit meat down upon you. Oh don't look so shocked, it's what we do. Due to our generally peaceful nature, we do not react until the rabbit meat starts raining down on us. Then, as our comrades die left and right, paralyzed by the cuteness of the rabbits (even chunks of rabbit meat) then crushed by stone and fire, unable to heal each other with out super healing powers, I run. I gather a small group of Logipriests and run. Straight towards the Venezzian convoy. When they see us, naked except for a loincloth, they laugh. Until we began chanting. Meaningless, really. Who has ever heard of chanting being able to cause catastrophic damage to a giant rabbit catapult? But it seemed to have worked. All weaponry was directed at us. The ominous rumbling signalled the release of the water turrets. We closed our eyes and hoped. And hope prevails! With a yodelling battle cry, the remains of the logipriest nation, freed from the paralytic rabbit meat in the brief pause of the unrelenting barrage, swung from vines into the midst of the Venezzians, and using vines as ropes and tickling tools, they disabled the catapult. However, we could not do much against the wall of water roaring towards us. So, we braced ourselves and continued to tickle the Venezzians until both sides were swept up in the torrent. Uh, I think that means its a tie? :D
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2012.12.25 14:16:00 - [3] - Quote Well my logipriests retreat to tend to our wounded in our jungle. Disease is spreading... apparently the rabbit meat catapult wasn't launching fresh kill. Typical of traders, really. Sending faulty goods to express distaste. Also, treasure hunters begin to raid our leafy abode because of a rumour that massive fortunes lie buried in our soil. We, being inhabitants of the forest ever since many of the trees were saplings, cannot confirm these rumours; however, our ancestors were been pirates who decided to bunk down in the forest and give up their plundering ways. Perhaps they also buried their loot. Who knows. Perhaps, the pirates sighted off our shores are related to the pirates who buried this treasure. Perhaps there was a map. Perhaps a puzzle. Whatever the reason, invasion seems imminent, and our sacred forest may not survive. Coupled with disease and the recent conflict, add a touch of humid, stifling weather, and the logipriest nation will be severely weakened. Weak enough for any force to crush, manipulate, or enslave... Weak enough for a sympathetic party to rescue. What will happen? Stay tuned for the next episode of "The Ultimate Forum Passing-Time Meta-Game RPG Thing for Dust 514 w/ a Ridiculously Long Name... IV" Dun dun duuun.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2012.12.31 14:20:00 - [4] - Quote Well after the pirated, bounty hunters, treasure hunters, etc. etc. finally killed each other off we decide to go digging. Surprise surprise. Treasure. Buried beneath our jungle haven is a giant refrigerator which stores the most miraculous substance ever. Chocolate that doesn't make you fat. This glorious discovery would've been economically terrifying in the wrong hands. Thankfully, I keep my head clear in this incredible situation. If no single faction can possess this... Then every faction must possess it. In our logiconvention, I arrange the plans. Operation delayed Christmas. Tomorrow, all around the globe, people will wake up and they will find themselves surrounded by chocolate, without the adverse side effects. Then, due to the stimulation of the chocolate, people will make love not war, and peace will reign for a day. The next morning, however, people will realise they are in beds they shouldn't be in.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.01.02 04:45:00 - [5] - Quote It's so beautiful. +1
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.01.02 08:18:00 - [6] - Quote Are we limited to this map or is there room for expansion?
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.01.15 12:34:00 - [7] - Quote I wake. Lying there, facing the ceiling of my treehouse, listening to my own breathing, I recall my dream. A dream of golems. A dream of me, as a golem. Of me, being killed, as a golem. Shakily, I stand and walk outside. Around the logipriest village, my friends, my subjects, also awake. They are also troubled. They were plagued by the exact same dreams. I realise that the excavation of the refrigerator of chocolate may have released more than just confectionary. The death my own hands, no, my golem's hands, caused. I could feel the crunch of bones, hear screams of terror, smell the earthy scent of the tunnels. This was not who we are. I look into the haunted gazes of my fellow logipriests and I know they are thinking the same thing. A logipriest elder walked up to me. "Sleep is the problem. We cannot sleep. Our spirits soar while we dream. This is the power of the logipriest. Now, however, some evil is tapping into this freedom. Twisting it." He looked me in the eyes. His were bloodshot, I assumed mine were just as bad. "We must not sleep." And so we gathered all our comrades and cast the enchantment that would prevent us from accessing nature's most restorative, most pure, most relaxing remedy. We did not know what we were deciding. We only knew that we had caused pain in sleep and thus could not sleep. We did not know that our actions would lead to consequences much more dire than dream golems. Logipriests become logizombies. We are stronger, much more physically powerful. We are undead, unable to be killed. However, we lose all strengths of logipriests. Healing powers are gone. We cannot swim off our island. Until the source of this disturbance, whatever it is that controls our spirits, is found and destroyed, we will remain as so. And we will eventually learn how to swim.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.01.16 12:14:00 - [8] - Quote The logipriest forest rings with the cries of wildlife. Death cries. Logizombies have acquired a taste for blood. The winds of change blow from the mainland across into the forests, and on these winds we smell blood. Fresh meat. Delicious flesh. We walk towards the mainland, so hungry and w- what the kitten! A logizombie stepped out of the forest and onto nothing and falls. And falls. And falls. The cliff edge that the rest of the logizombies mill around must've been miles high. We could've even hear the splash our comrade made as he fell into the channel below. We did see, however, the red blood that stained the channel as whatever creatures below ate him. There is no passage across. But the meat is on the other side. Racking our diseased and sleep deprived brains for a solution, we turn. [OOC] could we name the channel the Niewz Channel? I just found it funny. For example: news at Niewz. Okay I have bad humour. But I like the name regardless. :D [/OOC] The trees. We will build a bridge. Then we will reach the meat. Fresh meat...
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.01.28 21:56:00 - [9] - Quote -crunch- I look up from my meal, and shake my head. "Too... Chewy." We move on, to the west, around the mountains that stand in our way, seeking softer and fresher nourishment. The subset bathed our newly constructed bridge, basically an ultra long plank that spans the Niewz channel, in an eerie glow. The blood of my meal glinted upon its dwarfish armour. [OOC] therefore, my zombies are headed for the undefended town of Venezzia. Whatever you guys are doing to stop the affliction that has turned my race into zombies, it's a race against the clock now and for the sake of your women and children, I pray to whatever deities exist in this world you beat the clock. remember, you do not know where the logizombies are... yet [/OOC]
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.01.28 22:43:00 - [10] - Quote [whole post is OOC] I love it, I don't recall ever doing something like this and it's highly enjoyable, reading through the threads woven by your fellow writers and watching how their strands are affected by yours. I suppose we lost the "for DUST 514" thing a while ago but in essence, we're still with it. The whole idea of a universe captured in a universe is present in our story, right? Of fighters, fighting for fighters, who are fighting for the big wigs, who see the deaths of millions as merely the loss of a pawn on their grand chessboard. The little stories of battles, such as the scrabble between Alixenus and Armok, and then the panning out to observe the bigger picture in terms of the whole world, and more importantly, the effect this little battle has had on the universe. We've captured DUST in an ever evolving universe of our own, gentlemen.

Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.01.30 12:53:00 - [11] - Quote Below us sprawls the Venezzian coastline, teeming with villages... And meat. I lick my lips. "Fresh meat, my friends." I turned. Behind me stood a veritable army of zombies. The dwarf villages we ravaged, once persuaded by the offer of fresh meat, rose from the dead to join our grisly crusade. It was dark; dusk. I could smell the meat of the Verezzians. I had a fleeting memory, of a Venezzian captain, of tickling with vines, of unfattening chocolate... And it faded, quailed under my need for meat. I turned towards my companions. "We attack at dawn. The sun will be at our backs. The meat will be soft, just waking from the dreams." A logipriest came up to me. She was female. Another memory stirred, of a warm bed, her warm limbs... This too was snuffed, but instead by cruel reality. She was stained with blood, her hair matted, her fine features distorted by a grimace, the hunger that ached in all of us, insatiable. "What kind of dreams... Do fresh meat dream"? For a fleeting moment, I regained my old nature, my old composure. "Darling, the humans dream of hope. Of perfection... Unattainable beauty. They dream of love, of lust, of passion. Dreams are their refuge when everything around them becomes a nightmare." She looked at me strangely. The bloodlust in both of us was subdued. "So when we assault them... When we eat them... They will dream?" "Yes," I say, sadly. "They will dream."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.01.31 05:22:00 - [12] - Quote At the gates of the closest Venezzian coast village, women ran. Children cried as they lost their parents amidst the chaos, and the old men, those left behind after Alixenus took his warriors to the badlands, armed themselves with whatever they could. There they stood, exhibiting true bravery, shoulder to shoulder, trembling in fear, facing the approaching army, shielding their eyes against the rising sun. Deep inside me, I admired their courage. Most of me, however, seeing their delectable, sweet flesh, trembled with anticipation. I stopped 5 paces from the nearest elder, and my army assembled behind me. We stood, trembling, eyes on their side revealing fear, disgust and hatred, whilst all that was present in our eyes was the undying hunger. I opened my mouth and roared- But before a sound could be uttered, the heavens seemed to part and a beam of golden light slammed down on us. Instantly, the dwarf zombies were annihilated, their impure forms vaporised. The logizombies and I, however, were not so lucky. We fell to our knees, howling in pain, burning. I picked myself up, wreathed in golden fire, and ran. I did not know where I was going, only that the fire was blinding me, deafening me, silencing me. I could not hear my screams but I knew I was drawing breath to scream as the fire followed the intake of air and scorched my lungs. I wanted it to end, to end... And as suddenly as the pain begun, it stopped. I lay for what felt like a decades, panting, sobbing. Nothing felt burnt. I opened my eyes. My body, so recently raw, bloody and bleeding, was whole. Except I was different. My skin was tinged a light shade of green, and golden inscriptions snaked their way around my body, still pulsing. I could not understand the language. I looked around. 5 others surrounded me, all greenish and wrapped in glowing golden tattoos. We were on the hill that we had so recently run down to... To what? Who were we? What were we doing here? The logipriests are returned, but changed. And they have lost their memories. And there are 6 left.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.01 03:29:00 - [13] - Quote OOC: for simplicity's sake, the memory modification of the logipriests during their transformation back from zombie form only effects identity. That is, we're still speaking English. On a side note, thank god we didn't decide to make up whole new languages yet. Anyway. Identities. This means we don't know who we are, who you are, proper nouns, mostly. We recognise villages, but not their names. If we see a sign saying Venezzia, for example, we will no longer recognise it as a trading, water oriented race of people recently undergone a revolution, but we will then associate you guys as venezzians once more. END OOC. - "Who are you?" I turned, and a woman was staring at me. She was naked but for a loin cloth and on her body ran the same golden runes over the same greenish skin. The others gathered around and stared at each other as well. "I... I do not know." "Why are we here?" The smallest of us squeaked. "I can't answer that either." "You know", began a bald, wizened man, the golden lines of runes broken by folds of old skin. "I was looking down at the village, and I saw some who looked similar to us. However, you might not like how they looked." We all strode over to the edge of the tree line and peered down the hill. I gasped. Strewn across the plain before a coastal town were piles upon piles of ashes, and scattered along the ashes were bodies. Green bodies, with gold runes. They were all dead. After a long silence, I regained my senses. "It would seem we are not welcome down there, at least. I assume those were our kind... And we're slaughtered by whoever resides in those towns. Brutes, I'd wager. Look, I see no one else dead besides those who look like us. It did not seem as if we wanted a battle at all." I turned. "Friends, I do not know your names. I do not know our purpose. All I know is if we reside here any longer, we will not be treated warmly. We must go." And with the ringing sense of finality and adventure, I took a step forward... then was paralysed and fell to the ground, unconscious.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.02 00:41:00 - [14] - Quote Sandromin Hes wrote: OOC: Btw, sorry if I didn't get this post in fast enough. I was going to post earlier, but I was mid-game in DUST. Xavier, edit your post if you need to. OOC: if I may just suggest something here. It seemed that Thanatos experienced some form of hallucination while holding the uber book of spells. Perhaps, instead of having Xavier edit the post where he sees sandmen, perhaps he did see sandmen. Sandromin, meanwhile, sees the automatons, reality, while Xavier sees what he wants to see... Because the book teases it out of his mind and makes what he wants reality, but only for him? Something like that. Hopefully you guys see this before editing anything.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.02 23:11:00 - [15] - Quote Thanatos 716 wrote: Galrick M'kron wrote: OOC: Alright then, here are the current situations in the plot threads of the Collective: Meanwhile, at the Collective main city... A loud buzzer went off in a white room, waking the large figure of Brutus lying on the floor. A mechanical voice said through an intercom:"Welcome, Subject 89, to your test chambers. After you complete your tests, you shall be released. Proceed to the next room. Failure to comply with orders will result in a reprimand via your shock collar." In another testing chamber... The buzzer woke up the six logipriests in a test chamber, with the same instructions issued. In a negotiation with Sandromin... The Engineer stood before Sandromin a few hours after their alliance was formed. "The Book was in our possession at a previous time. We had uncovered it in the tomb of the previous Archnecromancer, and were researching its properties. The one called Xavier stole it and you know the rest (OOC: Can we retcon this into the story?). If you require assistance in locating and capturing him, we would be more than able to dispense any number of squadrons to provide reinforcements." the robot said. OOC: Man I die for 10 seconds and people already forgot about me. Sorry can't retcon it into the story. It's been stated that the book(which is called the Dark Arcanum) has been in possession of Diyad since the death of the last Archnecromancer. He never received a tomb. It was in Thanatos's possession until he died. Also just because I died doesn't mean I'm quitting or anything. I'm still going to be very much involved, indirectly providing lore and back story. Also Thanatos won't be gone forever. All will be revealed soon. OOC: it's okay Thanatos, I am still warily pondering your next move. And you guys who are classifying us as "D&D nerds". It's not hard to join in if you want to. At this point you don't even have to keep your head wrapped around the upkeep of whole nations. Just be an animal, or a bloody tree if you wanted to, or as Brutus ingeniously decided, a lone giant. You can be anything you want, do anything you want, but remember that every single action impacts the whole world. (If that doesn't sound decidedly EVE-like, I don't know what will.) by the way, what the hell is D&D? End OOC. -- I was walking down a long corridor. The walls were tinged green, and long golden lines of runes embellished them, all around me. The runes near me as I walked by them glowed, and those on my own body glowed in some form of response. I reached the end... And fell. Falling, tumbling. This was no free fall feeling. It felt as though I was sinking through elastic; it felt gooey, inconsistent. All around me swirled balls of green light, watching, winking at me, daring me to do something. I squirmed, tried to escape. There was no way out. Then I fell through. I was lying on my back, panting, in a cold dungeon room. A torch in a bracket nearby bathed the room in flickering light. There was no door or windows. I got up on one knee, and suddenly the flames of the torch elongated and wrapped around me, burning me. I did not feel pain, even as I watched my skin blacken, die, peel off, to reveal greenish muscle underneath, which in turn died, which then revealed golden bones. As fascinating as it was, I fainted in dismay. Open my eyes again. Still in the dungeon room. I looked down at my body. There were chunks of flesh everywhere where the flame chains did not touch. Where there was no flesh, there was no flesh at all. Golden bones held me together. I gulped, but felt no pain. A door materialised and opened. No one walked in. Outside, I heard muttering. I knew this conversation outside the door was important, but I had no way of moving; my body was in pieces. I strained to hear but all there was was muttering until- BZZZZZZZZZTZTZTZTZTTZTZTZZT. I opened my eyes. I was staring straight at a stark white light. I closed my eyes. With my hands I felt my body, whole and unblemished. I sighed. A dream. I sat up and looked around. 5 of the others like me, my people, lay around me. They were also waking. I watched their faces, but none seemed to show any sign of having troubled sleep. The floor was white, the walls were white. It seemed as if the whole room was made of light. My eyes stung. It looked as if we were standing on nothing, but for the door embedded in one wall to bring everything into context. I realised there was something different about my peers. They each wore some sort of grey necklace. I felt my neck, and found an identical loop. Suddenly a voice blared out from what seemed like the room itself. "Welcome, Subjects <6 numbers which I assume Galrick will assign>, to your test chambers. After you complete your tests, you will be released. Proceed to your next room. Failure to comply with orders will result in a reprimand via your shock collar." Shock collar? Orders? Tests? I looked at the others. They were as wary as I. "C'mon." I stood up. "Let us see what they want of us. I for one don't w
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.03 13:18:00 - [16] - Quote After the harsh white light of what I believe was some form of holding cell, the softly lit obstacle course in front of me seemed to be darker than usual, more foreboding. I turned to the others. "I don't know about you guys, but I feel like getting to the other side will be easy." Narration: This, to a mere mortal, may seem a little cocky. The course consisted of, from what the logipriests could see, obstacles that would test not only the strength and agility of a creature, but its ability to judge when and where to use its strengths. Spiked pitfalls had to be traversed over thin beams, bullets shot out of wall installations periodically, ominous animal grunts rumbled from various holes in the ceilings, any floor that didn't look like it would crumble with the lightest step had obvious trigger pads, others seemed normal... Seemed. My companions smiled. They felt their limbs tingle in anticipation, I could see it in their eyes. Whoever we were, whatever we are, we felt at home in this messy environment, this unpredictable jungle. Jungle. Something stirred in my head then, and I closed my eyes. What was it? Jungle, trees... I opened my eyes and examined the course... Blinked... There. Suddenly, beams became branches, ropes became vines, poles became trunks. The animal noises were simply accepted as background noise. White became green. Foliage covered the walls. There was no difference between the jungle and this course... Except bullets whizzing everywhere. My vision collapsed, but it lingered in my mind. Taking a deep breathe, I leapt onto the first beam which led across an inky black pit. I felt alive. The forest seemed to come back, wanted to come back, as I arced through the air, twisted around torrents of water that threatened to batter me down and spiralled over wild animals that feel from the ceiling. I laughed aloud, marvelling at my own body, a body that felt unused for so long, reunited with my mind like a long lost friend. My complete peace was ruptured however, by a scream. The woman had slipped on a particularly slippery beam and had lost her balance over a pit of snakes. Quick as a snake, the little one jumped onto the beam and shot out his arm to grab her. Their difference in weight, however, was too great, and he began to slip too. The two following them, twins -one male and one female-, I now realised, caught up just as the boy lost his balance and nimbly straddled the beam, each one grabbing an ankle. They held on with all their might. I was about to head back to their aid when suddenly, a bullet spat out of the wall and smacked into female twins back. She gasped and slumped forward. Her twin groaned as her dead weight began to slip off the pole. All is might was now focused on the woman and boy and keeping them from falling. The elderly one, pacing himself, considering every move, has been far behind. He did not quicken his pace even as he saw the situation. Presently, he reached the disastrous beam, and walked slowly onto it, leapt lithely over the twin holding up the other two, and caught the injured twin. He then grabbed the other twin's hand and sat down on the pole, prepared to provide extra strength if needed. I had stood gaping for long enough. I began to make my way back to my companions. The woman had begun climbing up the body of the boy to reach the beam. I was halfway back when the beam gave an ominous groan... Alarmed, the elder told everyone to stop moving. The five of them froze, linked as though in a grotesque dance. I looked around for something to help. There, a rope. I grabbed it, whipped it towards a bar between me and my friends, and swung. As I reached the lowest point of my swing, the beam gave way and everyone on it fell. Too late to stop my motion, I let go of the rope as soon as I reached the furthest point and dived into the pit. Streamlining my body, I closed the gap between me and the group rapidly. I glanced beyond at the snakes writhing below, an undulating mass. The group had spread in the air to form a circle to decrease speed. The one problem was the injured twin. She had no strength to reach out and grab the woman's hand. This gap was where I directed myself. I caught the woman's hand first, then the twin's... The golden runes on our bodies shone the instant we formed the circle, and they began moving as we fell. They too formed a circle, stretching from fingertip to fingertip, a small circle of runes over the centre of our chests. The runes on our fingertips connected with the exact same rune on the adjacent person's, and as soon as the circle was complete, all went blank. From the perspective of the Galrick's surveillance equipment, the logipriests simply vanished. OOC: I need to go for half of this week, so this is how I decided to remove myself, for now. When I'm back I'll reinsert myself into the melody of our tale. Galrick: I doubt my logipriests will be returning to the obstacle course once their journey to wherever they went (I'm not sure myself) is complete, so there will be no loose ends there that you have to worry about. Give me some juicy action to read up on when I come back; spice it up with some deception and greed and we'll be selling our story as the next Game of Thrones.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.07 09:34:00 - [17] - Quote [OCC] IGÇÖm picking up right where I left off: the moment of teleportation [/OOC] The teleportation blinded me; all was white. All time was warped, and I did not know whether I held the hands of my friends for seconds and years. My body felt suspended in a thick liquid untilGÇª My vision cleared. And I gasped. Below me was a planet, rotating slowly. It was an immense, silent globe. I looked around and saw other planets, saw stars far away, and I realized that there must be a star nearby and looked for it, not realizing if I lay eyes directly upon it I would be blinded. There. I stared directly at it. I was not blinded. I stared at the fiery sun with my own two eyes and felt only mild, tingling warmth against my bare skin. The others were looking around in wonder, too, when a voice broke the mesmerizing silence. GÇ£Logipriests.GÇ¥, it intoned. I could not tell if it was male or female. GÇ£Logipriests.GÇ¥ Its voice deepened when it repeated the word, unfamiliar yet familiar, again. I blinked and looked for the source of the voice. GÇ£Logipriests.GÇ¥ It continued deepening, but in such a way that I still could not distinguish its gender. GÇ£Logipriests.GÇ¥ I felt my heart beat faster, and if there was ground beneath my I was sure it would tremble. GÇ£Logipriests.GÇ¥ The voice was so deep it was almost beyond hearing. GÇ£Logipriests.GÇ¥ I was a logipriest. The voice, no longer audible, instead resonated in my chest and mind. I knew who I was, and I looked at the others with renewed interest, and they looked back, tears in their eyes. GÇ£We are logipriests.GÇ¥ The voice spoke, and this time, it was definitely female. The source of it seemed to come from our own heads, and I knew the others heard it too, for they had their heads cocked to one side, listening. It was the sweetest voice I had ever heard. GÇ£Logipriests. You look upon your own world. The world of Dustia. This is where you belong, this is where you reside. In fact, this is where you currently reside. Your bodies are still down there, but your minds I have borrowed for but a moment.GÇ¥ GÇ£Who I am, there is no need to know. Not yet. What there is to know is that your world is unhealthy, plagued. The world is old, logipriests, older than your race, older than any race. It has supported creation, but also destruction. It has felt fire, shuddered against explosions, moaned as giant boulders hurled from the air, silencing countless screams of hapless creatures. Men, dwarves, giants; all their voices, all their power, has fallen against the back of this planet. Men, dwarves, giants; they have risen again, and again. This planet has silently protected and nourished all in their fleeting throes of birth, death, and rebirth. The star that lights your world is older. Before your world was even unnaturally forced into this solar systemGÇÖs orbit, it had given life to other planets. This story is one that cannot be told now, we have little time to spare. This star has seen the creation, has aided the destruction. This star has seen countless terrors, heard cries for mercy, shouts for blood and pain, whimpers of sadness and fear.GÇ¥ The star suddenly began shrinking. I looked at it, confused, until I saw the planet. It had begun to move. No, I corrected myself. It began to move faster than normal, so fast our eyes could actual notice the movement, the yearly rotation. The voice could alter time, I realized. And as the sun shrunk, as its light became fresher, younger, I realized we were going back in time. We watched the world rotate backwards, faster and faster, until the planet was merely a blur, to our eyes a ring around the sun. Suddenly, it stopped, in front of us again. GÇ£One thousand years ago,GÇ¥ the voice resumed. GÇ£This was your sun.GÇ¥ The planet started rotating in the normal direction, and this time we followed it, gliding along, the only noise was the narration by the voice. GÇ£Now, it is tired. You see the way it grows. The way it expands, like a bloated, content old man, ready to move on to the next life. The death of a star, the phenomenon known as a supernova, is impending.GÇ¥ I barely heard her; curious events were taking place on the surface of the planet. I saw fires consume whole continents, platoons of humanoids roam plateaus, slaughtering, pillaging. I saw green spread across the land, the men disappear, and giants began appearing, giants so big that even from my lofty view, they looked like ants. (OOC: BrutusGÇÖ ancestors, they were probably four to five times BrutusGÇÖ size) I saw the continents shift, move, and men reappeared. Ships sailed the seas, and fires lit the darkness of night. I saw a battle at the edge of a jungle, one involving water cannons, and a faint memory tickled my mind. The rapid movement stopped. The sun was once again the size it was before. GÇ£The end is nigh. The only hope, logipriests, is gone. Hope is a concept lost against the evil, the dread, the pain, the suffering, the hatred, the plotting, the deviousness, of the world. Hope is lost in the battles for pride, the wars for honour, the slaughter for prestige. There is no redemption in this world. This is a dying world, only fit for incineration. And the fire will come. The inferno will be as intense as the kiss of a loved one, and as fleeting as an eagleGÇÖs dive. Then all will be gone. Evil will be destroyed and all suffering will end.GÇ¥
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.07 09:36:00 - [18] - Quote GÇ£So why are you showing us this?GÇ¥, I murmured. GÇ£Why not just stand back and watch? GÇ£This is punishment, leader of the logipriests. Your race has defied the gods too many times. Your race should have been destroyed by the Venezzian traders. Completely transformed into mindless zombies. Eliminated by the CollectiveGÇÖs obstacle course. Your regenerative powers, matched by none, protect you. As each logipriest dies, this power is not lost but returned to another living logipriest. If all but one logipriest was killed, the last one would, for all intents and purposes, be immortal. He or she could rule with impunity. But no, your race chooses to breed. You choose to enjoy the bodily pleasure of sex. Evil is balanced by the logipriests. Evil, which is meant to triumph before the rebirth.GÇ¥ The voice becomes deranged, crazy. Her voice is still beautiful, but I shivered. GÇ£You interfere with affairs that you should not know about! You meddle with the game of the gods! This is not how the game is played. Good should fall. Good must fall. Evil must reign! It is always darkest before the dawn, some say. There must be no hope for hope to return.GÇ¥ She regains control of herself. GÇ£So this is your punishment. You must feel the despair, the hopelessness, which plagues everyone else in this world. For you can do nothing to prevent the end.GÇ¥ GÇ£YouGÇÖre wrong.GÇ¥ I stared at the world intensely. The others looked curiously at me. The voice chuckled, and I shivered again; the laugh was music to my ears. GÇ£Dear logipriest leader, do you really think you can stop a supernova?GÇ¥ GÇ£You showed us what we need to know to stop it. You know that we can. You want us to try.GÇ¥ The voice, for the first time ever, faltered. She seemed to speak to herself. GÇ£IncredibleGÇª he was right about theseGÇª these creatures.GÇ¥ Then she steeled her voice again. GÇ£But even if you do stop it, even if you do prevent the end, what will you be left with? A world with nothing but evil. Nothing but hatred.GÇ¥ I did not turn my eyes away from Dustia. GÇ£Sure, people will fight, maGÇÖam. Sure, they will die. Sure, from your perspective, it may seem futile. But your game you play? This assumption that you can manipulate us to create a perfect story, to make evil triumph only for good to eventually prevail, is disgusting. You gods do not understand us. You higher beings will never be one of us. You will never experience the joy of witnessing a sunrise, the pleasure of laying next to a warm body, the laughter that the smallest of insects can provoke. You will never fear the darkness. You will never cry when a friend dies. You will never sing or lament with raw emotion, or feel the glow in your hearts as you carry a newborn child. You have seen too much, become too embittered, and so you play your game. You have no right to disregard us. No privilege to use us as playthings. To erase us as a mistake in this grand plan of yours because of our barbaric behavior is irony at its finest. We owe our futures to fate, and fate alone. Let us return, maGÇÖam. Fate will guide our footsteps, and our future will burn brighter than the inferno that is the supernova, and we will survive.GÇ¥ SilenceGÇª and then- GÇ£Vyzion Eyri. Names are very important in that world of yours, and you will need yours. Vyzion Eyri, you and your companions will return, and I will watch to see if your words are true. If you have lied to me, if these emotions do not burn as brightly as you say, if there is nothing but evil and hatred as IGÇÖve believed, I will strike this world from existence. And I believe you wish for me to leave your fortune to fate? A bold request. In time, perhaps, you will understand what those words mean. - I opened my eyes. A jungle surrounded me. I was alone.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.07 09:39:00 - [19] - Quote [OOC] SORRY, I got carried away. Remember, you guys do not know about this supernova, unless you possess some intelligence/mythical beliefs (such as a Mayan calandar, Dustia style), or your race has been tracking the growth of the sun, etc. My plan for as to how we can stop this, I will keep to myself... mainly because I'm not quite sure yet. Rest assured that it will create much confusion and chaos. My favourite. :) [/OOC]
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.09 03:30:00 - [20] - Quote OOC: Dwarves Sandmen Automatons/collective Giant Traders, also human. Logipriests. Okay, there aren't any others, right? Not counting Bojo yet; his role is not foreseeable now. Because if there are 6 main races and 6 logipriests left... Mmmm... Ideas.

Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.09 05:59:00 - [21] - Quote [OOC] Yes, attend, Xavier. This will be interesting indeed. [/OOC] Whilst Vyzion slowly stood up, gazing around at his home, the Logipriest jungle, he wondered where his companions were. As he was wondering... On a popular beach along the Venezzian coastline, a body was washed up onto shore. It was a woman with pale green skin and golden runes, her hair fanned out along the sand, unconscious. In the tunnels of Lucia, a dwarf stumbled, calling for help. A few friends answered his cries, and came running. They followed him back into the tunnel to a tiny alcove mined out for ore, and found an elderly man, pale green with golden runes running along his skin, sleeping peacefully. A white room, pure white, was suddenly tainted by green, red and gold. Lying on the floor of this white room was another woman, similar to the other, except her skin was red: soaked in her own blood. She was unconscious, but the microphones installed in the room picked up her faint cries. "Hayde... help..." The Collective was stunned for a moment; no-one should know where their facilities were based, so how did this woman get in? Two sandmen who were drawing water from an oasis, their faces covered by cloth and their eyes by primitive glass googles to protect themselves from the raging sandstorm, shouted to one another in surprise when what they assumed to be a cactus on the other side of the body of water moved. They went to investigate and found a man, staggering in the direction of the Collective's testing facilities, holding his back as if it were injured, and calling out a name. "Layla,", he was muttering. "Wait for me." They knocked him unconscious and began to drag him back to the capital. Brutus, sitting on a sand dune like a bean bag, looked wearily upon the sandmen he was dragging along. Some were stirring; they were surfacing from the sea of unconsciousness. He stood up, picked up the ropes of his makeshift sleigh, and began plodding on. He looked behind him for a moment to check on the sandmen and stopped, stunned. The sand shifted as he stood up from the dune revealed a greenish tinge. He jumped over and dug out a small boy, the golden tattoos on his skin partially masked by the sand pouring off his body. He was tossing and turning in Brutus' enormous hands, plagued by his own nightmares. - The message of the Diyadians began to spread. A meeting. All nations represented. Venezzia. Each would take their respective logipriest, believing only they had one, believing only they had a clue to the mystery, a piece of the puzzle. Brutus and Sandromin, once they unite, will have two. - I did not know what to do. My companions were gone. Layla, Hayde, Dariyls, Conyr and Natyli. I knew their names. My memories were restored. I was the leader of the Logipriests. Exactly what the voice had called me. But there was no more nation, there was only six of us left. And now I was alone. I realised that surely I would feel something if one of them died... an influx of power, perhaps. I also knew that if they were not here, they would come. They would return or die in the attempt. So I sat and waited, and hoped.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.09 23:45:00 - [22] - Quote OOC: Are we all talking about the same goddess here? Because I was also planning on revealing that the woman who spoke to the logipriests was fate. I thought it'd be interesting because my character defied the voice by telling her we would let ourselves be ruled not by her, but by fate, when in fact she was fate... Mmm. So just want to clarify this before I start talking about another fate which sounds similar to Thanatos' fate and we end up with two different fates... Although that could work. --- I blinked. That was it. What did we have that those who had everything didn't? We were specks, not even visible, in the grand scheme of the universe. They were gods, they were omnipotent, omniscient. But they did not feel emotion like us. That was the key. They want to feel our raw emotion. Perhaps, perhaps they had sadness. Perhaps they had happiness. But what could make them truly sad, truly afraid, if they were gods? This is what we possess that the gods do not. This is what is what we must prove to them. A bird fluttered down from a nearby branch and landed on my shoulder. I brushed a finger against its side and an image flowed into my head. Venezzia. I stood up and walked to my jungle hut. The vine mats on the floor were spongy and I felt the sudden urge to lie down and nap, but I shook it off and pulled the mats up. Beneath, set into the hard floor, was the lid of a chest. I pried the lid open and pulled out a piece of parchment. It was a map of Dustia. This map was different. It had ink that flowed constantly across the map, one colour for each nation. The colours changed shades based on the agenda of the nation. Darker for more sinister purposes, lighter for acts of friendship and kindness. There was no swirling colour anywhere else on the map besides Venezzia. It seems the world was now focused on one point, even the logipriests. Whatever happens there will change the world. This was the moment, I thought, that would decide whether the world would end or survive. I replaced the mat. I grabbed my favourite vine and some fruit as I walked out and headed for Venezzia.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.10 21:19:00 - [23] - Quote Natyli's perspective. (Woman in Alixenus' dungeon.) "If you harm me..." Alixenus turns, hand still on the door. "You will die." Silence. Then... < Alixenus' response> OOC: going to flesh out each of my priest/priestesses eventually, just waiting for a nice moment where I can think about how everything ties together. This girl is feisty, by the way. A kindred spirit to the great warrior of Venezzia; Alixenus himself. Lets see how he takes it.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.11 09:46:00 - [24] - Quote Brutus Pyrus wrote: Where were the sand men he had traveled with? Where was the logipriest? While he was pondering this both his questions were answered, in walked the logipriest and the sandman who had first helped at the same time. Brutus was elated. But he had to ask something for both of them." What your name's" Conyr looked up at the giant, craning his neck far back. He saw in the rough face eyes that expressed emotion. True emotion. Very rarely does someone express themself so freely, Conyr though with remarkable wisdom at such a young age. I think it will be safe to stay with this big one, Brutus. "Hi, Brutus. My name is Conyr. I think... I think we'll be good friends." OOC: By the way Brutus, Sandromin added after your post that you were already part of his caravan, and therefore you're at or near Venezzia. - Layla was swimming in her dreams. Hayde kept whispering "Further", and she kept swimming harder, and it felt like she was making progress, but Hayde's voice never sounded closer. She struggled and as she struggled, the river she was swimming against turned red; blood. She screamed and woke up. She was in a pitch black container, cushioned from all sides, and she could feel movement. It was a transportation system of some sort, and she had no idea where she was going. Touching her back, she found her skin smooth and unblemished. The bullet wound was healed. She supposed whoever had put her in here meant her no harm... yet. So she closed her eyes and hoped her twin Hayde would find her soon. - Hayde had followed Sandromin's caravan. He had a feeling it would lead him to Layla, but when the caravan arrived at Venezzia even his urgent need to find his twin was smothered in surprise. The city was swarming with people of every race, from every corner of Dustia, here for some meeting. The city was patrolled by Venezzian soldiers, order was being strictly enforced, and the streets were gleaming. Obviously the Venezzians were not going to tolerate other nations getting a bad impression. He knew he would find Layla eventually. He had to. He'd kill to. - Darilys lay, quiet as a mouse, for hours. His hiding spot, an empty barrel, was beginning to get stuffy, but he had to make sure there was no one around before he popped out. To fill the interim, he recalled the events that led him here. The dwarves who found him, feigning sleep, prodded and poked and eventually got bored. They told each other they'd come back at the end of the day to decide what to do with the "green man in the cave". As soon as they had left, Darilys sneaked out, followed the main tunnel of the main and burst out into sunlight. He walked along the path some way, and ahead he spied a much bigger, much more well-trodden path. Just before he arrived, he heard voices and quickly jumped into a nearby bush. Peeking through the leafy brush he watched an entourage pass. In the center, looking distracted, was undoubtedly their leader. Xavier, he remembered. Xavier was carrying a book, and something stirred in Darilys when he saw it. He wanted that book. So he followed. Followed Xavier as he traversed to the coast. Followed onboard Xavier's ship. A stowaway. Now was his opportunity. The guards were ordered to shoot those who dared board the ship. Not those already on. They would not be looking for Darilys, stashed in the hull. Peeking out, Darilys saw no-one. So he crept out, placed the lid of the barrel next to it in case he had to hide in it again, and begun searching for the book. - I reached the end of the mountainous range of Lucia. Nothing had caused me trouble but my own thoughts. I was worried. I did not exactly know what to do when I reached Venezzia. I did not know when the supernova would begin. I did not know when the world would end. I did not know what to tell the nations. How would I explain that the world they knew and loved would end? The world they knew and loved... an inkling of an idea sparkled in my mind; tantalising and just out of reach. Fate will guide me. That goddess will be watching me, as fate guides me. I hope she's annoyed that I defied her. I marched on. Little did I know that as I made my way to Venezzia slowly and alone, a lady chuckled as she listened to my thoughts. Yes... Fate will guide you.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.11 21:24:00 - [25] - Quote Natyli slumped, exhausted. It had taken all her courage to remain silent during Alixenus' tirade. She strained against her shackles, to no avail. Vyzion, where are you? - Darilys had found it. The book. He gazed at it, enraptured. It was calling to him. He stretched out a hand... And touched it. - I shuddered. Something was wrong. I felt slimy, contaminated. Evil. What in the name of Dustia just happened? I started sprinting. Along the plains between Lucia and Venezzia I encountered no others. The feeling of trepidation increased as I got closer. This was not good. Not good at all.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.12 05:18:00 - [26] - Quote Darilys was oblivious to anything else. As he turned each page, wonder poured through his body. The runes... The runes were so familiar... He looked on his body. They were one and the same. He flipped, saw more runes, saw runes on his body that matched those runes. But Darilys did not care. He was absorbed by the book, all he wanted to do was keep reading... Reading... A noise disturbed him, he ignored it. A man, shouting to search a ship... Darilys did not care about ships... He just wanted to read... Be quiet, he thought. Everything went silent. Darilys smiled; the book agreed. The book wanted to be read. It would do anything to keep being read. Darilys heard footsteps behind him and a cry: "Intruder in the hull!". He heard the metallic zing of a sword being unsheathed, still he kept reading. Go away, he thought. Nothing hit him. Xavier was thrown with the force of a charging elephant backwards and slammed against the other side of the hull, smashed through inches of thick wood, and splashed into the water. He arose, gasping and furious, to watch the rest of his dwarves sailing from the boat in similar trajectories, shock on their faces. He swam back to the dock and stood there, watching the boat warily, pondering his next move. - Natyli glared at the two men as they unshackled her hands and reshackled them into other bindings, also inscribed by runes. She struggled as they hauled her out of the dungeon into daylight. Curious people watched as she was hauled to the palace. The men were strong, but they could not resist the perfume. She had bathed in it for years; all female logipriests did. The effect had dulled on people of their own race, but prolonged exposure to it by others caused infatuation, especially to the opposite sex. Only the strongest resisted it.The men now glared back at her, hungrily, and Natyli felt fear. She was bound, unable to escape... They started salivating. Instead of continuing towards the palace, they turned down a dark alleyway. - Conyr watched Brutus lope away. He felt wrong; the giant's company was extremely comfortable. When he was sitting on Brutus' shoulder he had felt like a giant himself, the land was open to him. He had seen over rooftops, and using this knowledge of the city's layout, he knew Brutus was heading for the port. Scrabbling up a nearby building with incredible agility, Conyr decided to follow his giant friend. Soaring over rooftops, he felt like he had wings. Conyr laughed as he chased Brutus' upper torso, the only part visible to him from his position. He could see the masts of ships ahead. Suddenly, a scream rent the air. Conyr slowed and looked down. He couldn't believe his eyes: Natyli was being assaulted by two men, intent on tearing off her rough clothes. Conyr was unaffected by the perfume and still too young to understand what was happening, so he watched, confused, for a while. Of course, he had seen the older logipriests mate, but never so roughly. One of the men actually punched her to her knees, throwing her head up. Then she saw him. "Conyr, help!" Galvanised into action, he acted without thinking and launched himself straight from the roof onto the shoulders of one of the men. He heard a crack as he leapt off, and turned to see the man on the ground clutching his knee. The problem was, thr man with the broken knee had fallen on Natyli, and he had a sabre pressed against her throat. They were no mercenaries, these were experts in their field, and they had just turned a surprise to their advantage. The other man turned towards Conyr menacingly, drawing two sabres. Uh oh. - I was standing on top of a roof, staring at the ship with a dwarf shaped hole in its hull. The dwarf responsible for the hole, Xavier, was silently watching the ship, dripping wet. Entry into Venezzia had been easy enough. The crowds swarming in, all conversing about delegations, representatives, kings, lord lieutenants, and a great meeting, a great conference. He blended in, and sought the source of his discomforting feeling. This is where he found himself. It must be Darilys. The old man was always too smart for his own good. I remembered when he used to host riddle competitions for the children, tell tall tales of great heroes and villains. I loved his stories. Behind his elderly guise, though, he held a yearning to be younger. His powers used to be great before the inevitable progress of time weakened him. I knew I'd find Darilys in that ship. I knew he would have to die.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.13 08:17:00 - [27] - Quote I watched in amazement as this giant defied the powers of the book Darilys had found, simply picking him up and running off. I watched Xavier for a moment as he ran into the boat, most likely seeking the book himself. It would be a problem, I realised. But this conference was too important to bring up such dark topics. I could not let this meeting go badly. Surprised, I saw Xavier climb out, empty-handed. Darilys still had the book? The dwarf king sprinted away in chase of Brutus. I promptly followed along the rooftops. As I jumped across a narrow alleyway, the tile I put my weight on slipped and I fell into the alley. I lashed my vine onto the chimney in front of me, arresting my fall. Panting, I pulled myself up. Once back up, I allowed myself a rest to calm my beating heart, and I saw a dropship. I blinked. It was glowing. No. A part of it was glowing. Green. One of the logipriests was in it. I gulped and pressed on for Brutus, thinking rapidly. Darilys was the most prominent problem currently. I had no idea what effects the book had enacted upon him. Logipriests can only sense where another is located if they are dreaming the Great Dream. So whoever was in the dropship must be asleep. I ran a checklist. If we were all separated, Natyli would be too angry to sleep. Conyr too excited. Darilys, I knew where he was. Hayde and Layla... They would not sleep until they were reunited. Layla... She had sustained grievous injury. Hope blossomed inside me. If that was Layla in the dropship, I felt almost sorry for whoever captured her. The last time the twins were separated... I let myself drift back into memories. Pirates, burning our trees. Vicious fighting. We were a new race then, our skin still beige and untouched, our powers yet to be discovered. Our island was actually much further north of the mainland, and instead of a thin channel, a whole ocean separated us. We had not even heard about Venezzia or Lucia, and we didn't even know what sand was. We were bordered on all sides by sheer cliffs. We were happy. Not now. Pirates wanted our land, in their eyes a safe haven, to stash their booty. And they did not care for our lives. What they did was despicable. They raped and killed the women and chained the young men up to serve a lifetime of slavery. Hayde, just coming into manhood, was taken. Layla was hiding and she did not know until it was too late. Too late, she came out. Too late, she realised her other half was gone. She turned upon the last of us, the survivors, and her wrath was an inferno. "Cowards! Why did you not stop them, why did you not save them? Are we so weak as to flail before some wooden floating vessels? Their boats are made from trees! We are living in them, for the love of Priestess! You let our family get taken. You let our children die. You let those disgusting, filthy pirates take my twin!" She was shouting and in tears by her last words. Tactlessly, someone piped up. "Well, I didn't see you doing anything." Layla turned, her eyes had murder in them. The logipriest who spoke those words quailed, and I, well ashamed of my cowardice at that point, would not have been surprised if he had just dropped dead. Then Layla turned, walked to the coast where the pirates had assaulted. Cautiously, I followed. She stood upon the cliff where the pirates sailed off. And sung. Her voice was laced with sadness,longing, and desperation. I realised she had hid her emotions behind her anger. She had hid the void behind a thin veil, a curtain that obscured a grand, empty stage. That was all I recognised, however. The language was one I had never heard before. We only spoke one language on the island, so I did not understand how she knew... It was too much to ponder, however. More important events were taking place. Such as the island moving. Layla did not stop singing for a week. The island kept moving for a week. Through storms and scorching droughts, as the weather grew warmer as we moved south, she sang. The logipriests, even the one who spoke against her, came to watch. There were tears in their eyes, such was her sorrow. Eventually, on the horizon, we spotted the black sails. The evening of that day, we could hear their laughter. Dawn the next day, their spotters saw us. And what a sight we must have been. Our inexorable progress eventually made the situation clear for both parties. The pirates were literally between a rock and a hard place. The mainland halted their progress, and they could not turn back because the logipriest island was closing in on them. The afternoon of that day, the ships were slowly being crushed between the mainland and island. Pirates were jumping overboard and the captured logipriests were jumping onto vines I had attached to the cliff front when I realised what was going to happen. Hayde saw his twin sister, heard her song, and scaled the rock itself, skinning himself but not noticing. He reached her, and in that instant she stopped singing and collapsed into his arms. No one had dared come between the twins since then. Until now. Snapping out of my reverie, I realised I had let myself get washed away on the tide of memory once again. I resumed the chase. I reached the congregation and had to stop for a moment to take the whole situation in. A giant, three logipriests, the Lord-Lieutenant of Venezzia and the Grand Liberator of Lucia, all in one place. Incredible; unprecedented. "-attempted to murder the Grand Liberator. Now, what do you say about that?" Xavier was angry. He could not see Darilys, who was hiding behind Brutus. From my vantage point though, I saw him. His hands were twitching towards his loincloth. I groaned. Of all the hiding places... I decided the tension was too great for anything good to be made from it, so I broke it. I jumped down, rolled, and stopped right in the middle of the confrontation. "What the-", yelped Xavier.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.13 08:18:00 - [28] - Quote "You!", hissed Alexinus, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. I ignored them, turning to Brutus. "Move aside." He gazed at me for a while, then shuffled across. Conyr and Natyli watched silently as I approached Darilys. "It's mine", he said brusquely. "You'll not have it." "Father, don't do this." He looked at me, disbelieving, guilty, furtive. "Father, I implore you. Give the book back." He still did not say anything. Then- Slam! An invisible force knocked me off my feet. Then Darilys was on top of me, strangling me. His eyes were red. I did not fight. Slowly, slowly, he softened his grip. I gasped as I sat up. He was looking at his hands, crying. "We are not murderers, father. Give back the book." He took it out of his loincloth. Alexinus slapped his forehead with his hand and muttered something about winter and warm clothing. His hand was trembling; his eyes were on the book. I was watching him intently. Conyr was watching a sparrow catch an updraft. Then he turned and ran. "Don't hurt me, don't hurt me, I just want to read the b-" I flicked my vine, it curled around his neck, and the resounding crack of his spine was heard by all in the silent street. Darilys fell, never to rise again. I turned to Xavier. "Take your book." I turned and saw Conyr staring at me, his wide brown eyes confused. Natyli had a hand over her mouth and tears blurred her own hazel eyes. "Don't follow me." Then I ran like a coward in the opposite direction, fighting tears of my own.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.14 00:28:00 - [29] - Quote I found myself back on the rooftops. Venezzia was smothered in silence; all attention was focused on the meeting. I watched the waves lap at the shore and I felt lost. For the first time, I did not know what to do. So I sat down on the roof and waited. I'd let fate take the reins. - Hayde found her. Layla. She was in that container. He walked up to it and touched the cold, hard surface. Anger bubbled up inside him. How dare they store his twin like some commodity. He found a sealed hatch of some sort and was trying to figure out how to open it when a Collective automaton tasered him from behind. - Layla awoke, heart pounding. "...Hayde?" The darkness did not respond. Then she heard it again, a faint scream. The soundproofing of the box made the noise seem miles away to Layla, but she recognised it nonetheless. "Hayde!" She kicked the box, which yielded only a bruised heel. She thought back to that song she sang, decades ago, the haunting melody... but it escaped her. She could not recall it. Panic seized her senses and she went into a frenzy, pounding every inch of her prison. "Let me out! Hayde, no, don't hurt him- let me out!" - The restorative powers of the logipriests was strong enough to withstand one taser electrocution, but how many more? Hayde found out the limit was six. By the time the automaton had managed to disable him, he had beating the machine to a pulp with his bare fists. He lay on the ground, his muscles twitching violently, listening to the pounding on the box, willing himself to move, but was unable to do anything but breathe jerkily. He stared up at the sky and watched the sun glide across the heavens, and it was sinking into the horizon by the time Hayde regained control of his body. He stood up shakily and walked over to the container and found the hatch. He found what he was looking for; there was a keyhole of some kind. He walked over to the machine and instantly found what he was looking for. The handle of the taser was shaped exactly like the keyhole. The problem was, it was designed in such a way that you had to touch the charged end to use the key. Hayde took the taser and walked over to the lock, breathing deeply. Then he quickly inverted the taser and threw his body onto the lock as the electric current numbed his whole arm. It clicked in and the hatch opened. - Layla gasped as daylight streamed into the prison. Her eyes, already blurred from her sobbing, was assaulted by a fresh batch of tears. She blinked several times and climbed out. "Hayde!" She was just about to touch him when she saw the taser in his hand. She instead ran and tackled him, releasing his grasp from the taser. Then she set about healing him, slowly, tears still falling from her eyes. I'm useless. I couldn't save him before and now, he had to suffer again. Hayde's eyes were fluttering open when a harsh voice chuckled behind her. "What have we here, boys. Some love birds sneaking away for some alone time, eh." Layla turned. A bunch of dwarves and men were leering at her. In the fading light, she might not have known they were drunk if they didn't smell like they had bathed in ale. She crinkled her nose. "Leave us alone", she demanded. "We mean you no harm." "Oh?" The big man with the harsh voice spoke again. "We don't mean any harm either. We just want to have some fun." Layla glared at them, knowing her perfume was adding to the confusion of senses in their heads. She knew they meant every word they said. What she didn't know, though, was that the critical meeting that was taking place involved both of the races now advancing on her. She knew the easiest way out of this situation would be to cause a chaotic, drunken melee, where she and Hayde are not harmed at all. What she didn't know was that if conflict broke out now, in the midst of the vital diplomacy and tense international relationships, things would go awry. But what she didn't know doesn't hurt her or Hayde, so she didn't want to know. So she led the group to another pub, one roaring with activity. She jumped onto a table. All eyes turned to her. Then she pronounced, loudly and clearly. "I am the leader of these men you see behind me. As a rebel, they will take over Venezzia. Who's with me!" Interestingly enough, she had chosen the pub whos patrons were most loyal to Alixenus. So when the resounded cry of outrage escaped from their slick, alcohol-laced throats, she jumped back out of the entrance nimbly. The other men and dwarves were not so agile. Their screams were horrific and attracted others for blocks around. When the dwarves saw their kin being assaulted, they took it the wrong way. When the men saw dwarves rushing to the fight, they misunderstood. And as Layla was dragging Hayde out of the city, looking for shelter, the brawl grew to a full scale interracial battle.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.16 13:53:00 - [30] - Quote I am the leader of a lost race. Five of us left. I could still feel the judder in my vine as the crack of my father's spine echoed along its length. Why did I do it? He was possessed. Surely we could've healed him? Maybe... and this was what scared me. Maybe I was evil. Maybe I wanted to kill. Enjoyed killing. As the sun set, bells tolled. The meeting must've finished, or at least a respite was being given. Slowly, Venezzia's night life blossomed in the darkness. I stayed on the roof, silent. A sound startled me, and I turned to see Natyli sitting down next to me. She put her hand in mine and gazed at the waves, not making a sound either. I felt ashamed. Guilty. Embarassed. Childish. Her touch reminded me that I was a logipriest. The leader of the logipriests. There was no time where I should feel sorry for myself. So I crushed my depression, my hesitation. I would take action. "Let us go." - I found Hayde and Layla standing outside the Gallery. I waved them over. "We must leave." "What about Conyr?" They asked in unison. "He stays." "What?" "Have you told him anything?" "What if he gets hurt?" "Harmed?" "Killed?" The twins fired off the questions in unison, one ending a question just as another starts. My head hurt. "Conyr is destined for things beyond what we influence now." Natyli dropped from the roof. "And how do you know this?" I hesitated. "Truthfully, I don't. But I feel that he has what it takes." "What it takes to do what?" "What no one else will." And with that, I leapt onto the roof, followed by the other three. Under the cover of darkness, we left the city of Venezzia and made our way back to our jungles.

Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.18 11:19:00 - [31] - Quote "No one knows, Brutus." Conyr smiled. "When logipriests make babies they do it in what my friends call 'giant orgies'. I'm not sure what it means but it all new children are cared for by the whole community. I think it's quite fun; we're never bound to a few parents, or solely responsible for younger siblings. A giant family, that's what we used to have. As giant as you, I dare say." Conyr didn't continue, and lapsed into silence. Children below we're looking up at him, some scared, some afraid, some jealous. Conyr knew the others had left him, but why? No matter. He had Brutus. That was another thing not having parents instilled, Conyr realised. Independence. Freedom. - ------OOC------ Events have been unfolding quickly, my friends. Very quickly. So quickly that personally, I'm feeling a little burnt out. We need a break. Not a complete break, but a break in this pace. As Galricks calendar or technology revealed, there is still a century or two until the supernova. The convention between nations is still running, near finish now though. I believe Thanatos' return and epic speech ( only a guess, don't let my words guide anything) will signal the end of the meeting. Whatever Thanatos says will undoubtedly be important. Perhaps he will relate it to the supernova impending, or another disaster that is imminent. Whatever the cause, we need a lapse. A time lapse. We've almost been writing blow by blow accounts of the action from 5-6 different perspectives, and that's too much to sustain for long. I was thinking we should speed up time 100 years. A whole century. This is very, very radical. All characters will be old, most likely dead,unless they possess some unnaturally long life span; I'm thinking Brutus. If everyone agrees to this, we must start wrapping things up, tying loose ends, making heirs, so that nations are still flourishing. And while we're fast forwarding, we can build on the history of our nations, if we want. If not, just short accounts of what is happening to your nation as time progresses through that century will do. I you want to do both, fine by me. Another option though, if this huge time lapse doesn't sound good, is to start some fighting. Battle scenes are awesome, and wars are huge. Sieges last months. It's a filler, basically. I'll leave it up to you guys to decide. We can enact a time lapse. We can start a huge war. ( I have an idea of how to do this without any nations being destroyed or humiliated, if you guys decide to select this option.) Or we can progress as we are. But I think a change of pace is necessary. Of course, feel free to add suggestions as to what you believe we can do next. Our discussions out of character are as vital as those between our characters.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.18 21:35:00 - [32] - Quote OOC: Sorry for making it seem as if I'm tired of this. I was trying to make the story as amazing as possible I forgot to simply enjoy the act of writing. I was getting frustrated because all my ideas kept hitting dead ends, and now I realise that all I have to do is write and the rest will figure itself out. No need to hurry guys, once again, I was getting annoyed at myself for not having ideas, and assumed you guys had the same problem. Embarrassing, really.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.20 07:12:00 - [33] - Quote OOC: I was wondering,what tree would your nation be represented by and why?
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 154	Posted - 2013.02.25 07:46:00 - [34] - Quote Conyr was confused. He had just woken up, why did he feel so tired? The exhaustion was overwhelming, and the slow, rolling motion of Brutus' stride slowly lulled his eyelids closed... and he drifted... Conyr opened his eyes. He was standing in his home jungle. He looked around and realised there was something different. Everything seemed brighter and tinged with gold; the edges were blurred. Out of the bushes came the remaining four Logipriests. Conyr realised, he was dreaming with them. The Great Dream. - I looked at Conyr and smiled. "Hello, boy." Conyr looked up defiantly. "I'm not a boy. You guys left me." "We had to leave. You must remain with the giant. The world will change; you will witness the changes. You are removed from the swirling hurricane of deceit, lies, broken promises and misplaced trust, politics and economics, hatred and anger. Only you will see clearly through the fog." "What about you guys? The logipriests were never involved in anything like that." This time, Hayde and Layla spoke together, one finishing a sentence as the other began the next. "We have grown, though. We have experienced. We have lived our lives. We have been tainted by the world." "But you know this, you're telling me this. Why can't you change?" The Great Dream was breaking apart. Such discussions were never meant to take place in its realm; this was where the Logipriests came to celebrate, to hope. Natyli looked sadly at Conyr. "Because, dear Conyr, we have been tainted by the world and we love it. This is our home, and we will never want to separate ourselves from it. The wars, calamities, crises, they are all painful. But there is always redemption. Always. This redemption is what we've grown to wonder at, to marvel at. It is awesome in its restorative power. This type of healing, this complete healing of the wounds of the mind, is something that escapes us. We are indeed cursed and blessed to have such a world." "Are... are you four going home?" I watched the dream blur as we said our indirect farewells; I could no longer see any detail clearly. I did not know whether it was because the Great Dream was not able to sustain itself, or if the tears in my eyes clouded my vision. "Home? Our home is here in Dustia. We are already home. No, we are leaving home, boy." "And I suppose you won't be back." It wasn't a question, it wasn't laced with disappointment, sadness, regret, anger. It was a statement, pure, hard, fact. A blaze of pride warmed my heart. He was stronger than me, I realised. He would be the last of our race, and the world will remember us by his actions. I think he'll do well. "No, boy. We won't be back. Not in your lifetime." "Are you my father?" I stared at him, then turned to Natyli. There were tears pouring down her eyes now. She nodded. I turned back. I opened my mouth- And the Great Dream collapsed, shattered into a thousand pieces, and all five Logipriests awoke refreshed. - I led the three others down into the great cold room, the place where we found the miraculous chocolate. It seemed like decades ago that we had excavated this area. The whole chamber was built with ice, great pillars of frozen water soaring high up, holding up the earth that held up our jungle. Icy shelves dug into the frozen walls were empty; that was where the chocolate was stored. I led my companions further into the chamber, until we reached the middle. A giant hole burrowed straight down into the ground, with a narrow spiralling staircase descending into it, made of slippery ice, hugging the edges. Before we had time to explore this strange pit, the darkness had taken us and we became logizombies. I started walking down carefully, and behind me I heard my three friends step onto the steps as well. The darkness swallowed us. - Conyr stared at the clouds, which seemed bigger than usual. Then again, he had the height advantage of being on Brutus. I am the last Logipriest.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 157	Posted - 2013.02.26 20:23:00 - [35] - Quote Conyr watched Brutus toss in his sleep, moaning, causing the whole room to shudder with his movements. He saw the pain, the anguish, and felt sad. Sleep cures many wounds, but not always painlessly. The giant had obviously experienced pain beyond imagination, beyond anything Conyr had felt, and the boy knew it. When Brutus started crying out names, names of loved ones, Conyr walked out. He would not pry into the giant's life when he was at his most vulnerable. Outside the air was cool, the crisp sea breeze leaving that salty tang on Conyr's tongue that reminded him of the rocky beaches back home. It was dawn. He was faintly surprised. So much had been happening he had lost track of day and night. He scaled a wall and sat on the rooftop, gazing at the rising sun. The huge, red orb almost seemed like it was pulsing. The breeze stirred his blackish-brown hair, the light from the sun caused his green eyes, flecked with gold, to smart. The whole city was silent, still trapped in the throes of sleep. It was amazing, that we were all unites by the need to rest, to restore, to heal. So Conyr sat, basking in the glorious sunrise above Venezzia, abandoned but not alone, and hoped. And such was his hope that his energy snaked out from his being, hundreds of thousands of tendrils, and touched each person in this city, instilling a fraction, a tiny particle, of his hope. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough to awake refreshed with a smile on their face with no reason for there to smile except the faint knowledge that life was worth living.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 157	Posted - 2013.02.26 21:15:00 - [36] - Quote Alixenus wrote: OOC I'll advance to the next day of conferencing once Xavier is done drinking with Halvedes and Brutus does...whatever it is he does instead of sleeping. Wouldn't want to cut anyone short now would I? I think Xavier and Halvedes are either still scheming in the wee early hours of the morning, or laying drunk and passed out, or whatever they had planned. Brutus slept through the night. Sandromin and Alexinus have positioned themselves so that this skip to this day will make sense. And your automatons weren't really cut off from doing anything important, I hope. So yes, dawn of the next day it is. _ Perhaps we should have timestamps now? Wouldn't want to fall into the hole that CCP dug themselves when they didn't add timestamps to the chat system. I've forgotten where Sandromin described the dating system (perhaps that would be another good thing to add to the index), so I'll wait until he decides exactly what day it is when he posts next, and we can go from there.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 163	Posted - 2013.02.27 21:05:00 - [37] - Quote Galrick M'kron wrote: OOC: Vyzion, the Collective are robots, not automatons. Automatons are fully mechanical and cannot be programmed. And besides, "automatons" sounds too steampunk-ish, which strays too much into Diyadian territory. My bad, I never really knew the difference. Robots it is. So is the whole Collective simply robots? No cyborgs, androids and such?
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 172	Posted - 2013.03.01 04:04:00 - [38] - Quote Alixenus wrote: Now, I declare day two of the conference open. Conyr heard the bells tolling, and stood up. The light sea breeze was delicious, but he decided he had something to say in the conference. Inside the gallery, people were assembling. The air was stifling, not at all like the cool breeze stirring the city to life outside. Conyr looked up, and saw the windows made of dyed glass, depicting ancient battles and stories of great sorrow. Conyr looked down, and found a sharp rock, about the size of his palm. He picked it up and started climbing. He chose the wall of the entrance, the ornate decorations making it easy to reach the windows. He looked at the first window he reached. It portrayed a scene of a king being tortured. Conyr drew back the hand with a rock, and smashed it against the window. The breeze instantly squeezed through the shattered glass. He proceeded around the inside of the gallery, smashing window after window, until the chamber was ringing with the sound of clinking glass and the cries of outraged men below. When he had destroyed every single window, he jumped down and landed softly on the speaker's podium. "Now that we have air to clear our heads," he said calmly, "perhaps we can begin." Then he went to an empty seat and sat down.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 178	Posted - 2013.03.01 13:30:00 - [39] - Quote OOC: Month system: page 14 Fate: 14-15 Freedom:15 The first meeting of the Panpopulusque Dustus Commune (All-people of Dustia administration): 17-18 Second meeting: 22 I'll agree with Sandromin when he says to include any events you guys feel important. This thread, thanks to all of you excellent writers, has become an unruly tangle of awesomeness. -WARNING: THE BELOW PASSAGE CONTAINS SPOILERS- Page numbers listing important character development posts, nation development, decisions made by your nations, etc, post them up regardless. However, Sandromin, we may need a giant spoiler alert for the index, just in case we spoil the death of Thanatos or something for potential future readers.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 180	Posted - 2013.03.02 10:46:00 - [40] - Quote Conyr returned to the podium. The sea breeze stirred the previously stale air, and he breathed deeply. "I shall begin." He took another breath and looked around, cleared his throat. He suddenly felt very nervous, alone, small, insignificant. The faces around him were hostile, curious, detached, annoyed, entertained. They thought he was some child, silly and uninitiated into the big world of men. I am the last logipriest. "I... would like complete immunity to harm, across Dustia. In addition to this, the forests of the logipriests, I suggest they remain untouched." He gulped as people exclaimed loudly at his requests. "The forests that we dwell in... Are dangerous to you. The magicks that naturally form around us, inside us, has permeated the forest. Mortal men cannot dwell in there for too long, or madness will take them." Calm. They're listening. Finish it off. "As for me... I do not wish any of you harm." He imagined his voice to be strong, confident and powerful, but in reality only those in the front seats seemed to hear him. "I do not have a home anymore. No family, or friends. So I have decided I want to understand. Knowledge, as we all know, is power. I want to understand Dustia, and so I request that I am left alone and unharmed as I travel." Conyr felt his words were weak as he sat back down at his seat. His cheeks were blushing, his skin turning a darker shade of green. Embarrassing, that was. He turned and looked at Brutus. The giant's face gazed at him, inscrutable. Conyr smiled, then turned back to the front.

Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 217	Posted - 2013.03.06 07:31:00 - [41] - Quote Conyr heard Nexhawk's disembodied voice as if this "Hawk of Burning Death" was standing right next to him. All around him, the assembly was confused and shocked, turning around and looking at each other, trying to determine the source of the voice. "After a long and exhausting war..." Conyr sighed. Whereever this voice was coming from, it told tales of battle. Conyr didn't understand. Why did so many fight? Vyzion would know. But Conyr shook his head. There was no Vyzion to explain to him in riddles. Not today, not ever again. "... in these dead lands, because they suit our organisms..." Conyr knew so little about the world. All he knew was his jungle home. Dustia was like a faceless friend, and Conyr couldn't seem to communicate. He wanted to be able to understand. "... beneficial to know what is going on around here..." Conyr laughed. This voice, apparently, could be heard by everyone. The whole of Venezzia was still, quiet. All the delegates recovered from their shock and were now listening intently. Scribes and reporters were jotting down notes furiously. So a voice that everyone could here, which must possess some supernatural power, is asking us what is going on? Conyr chuckled softly as the voice continued. "My hopes are that next time, I will speak to a member of any of your nations directly." Silence. Everyone looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Conyr walked over to Brutus. "Brutus, my friend. I must go. Do not try to find me." Brutus looked at Conyr, confused and hurt. "Why, Conyr?" "I can't explain now. I just have a feeling; I must leave. Promise me that you won't try find me." "I..." The giant was at a lost for words. "If all goes well," Conyr began, not waiting for Brutus to finish. "If all goes well.. I will see you again." And with that he sprinted out of the gallery, out of Venezzia, and away.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 233	Posted - 2013.03.08 13:32:00 - [42] - Quote OOC: Ner'Zul Nexhawk wrote: And, if I understood correctly, Conyr is heading to Lavania, so maybe he will show Nexhawk the way to his home. I'm not going to make it that easy for you. Conyr is on a mission to understand. Understand what, even I don't know. I tried planning out every step and it led to me getting kind of lost and devoid of ideas, so the spontaneous route I shall take. /OOC - Conyr reached the hills and found the spot where he and the other five logipriests had awoken, without their own identities, and had been captured by the Collective. He sat on a patch of grass, leaning against a tree trunk, and sighed. He looked at himself. His body was thin, his joints were knobbly. Weakness, that is what he saw. He was weak. Suddenly, a growl rippled through the air. Conyr jumped up and spun, turning towards the sound of the noise. It was coming from a nearby bush. The leafy shrub shivered as whatever was inside it readjusted its position. Conyr's imagination went wild; was it getting ready to pounce? Was it calling its friends? Whatever it was doing, Conyr decided to take the initiative. He jumped into the bush, screaming, yelling, kicking, clawing. He was blind; his vision was pulsing red, the fear of the unknown spurring him on. Minutes later, he found his limbs simply ran out of energy to move at all. He was laying on his back, gazing at the foliage above, panting hard. Whatever it was that was in the bush, it was pressed against Conyr's back, unmoving, possibly dead. Conyr didn't even want to look at it. What did I just do? He felt sick. The animal under him was dead, and he had killed it. It hadn't even put up a fight; the scratches sustained by Conyr were probably caused by the sharp twigs on the ground. He was a logipriest, the race of love and restoration, and he had just killed something. Or did he? Suddenly, a twitch jolted him up. The carcass was moving! Only, it wasn't a carcass. It was alive, not dead. An injured dog. Conyr looked on, morbid fascination rooting him to the spot. The dog was covered in small scratches, like Conyr, and larger, uglier ones, probably caused by Conyr. It was panting, twisted, thin and knobbly, just like Conyr. And as Conyr watched, the dog rasped out a coughing growl... and lay still. Now, it was dead. Conyr felt an intense dizziness blur his mind and senses. His head was reeling as if he was just punched by Brutus. Conyr was aware enough to know he was on his hands and knees, vomiting into the ground. Then he collapsed, on his back again, staring at the trees again. This time, though, he was on his own vomit instead of a dying dog. Tears pricked his eyes as he realised it was his body's natural regenerative aura that had kept the dog alive. If he had kept a hand on it, even a finger, it would've survived. He sobbed into the air, then. But only once. Because he would not be strong if he truly cried. So one sob, then he stopped. He took control of his breathing. Seized control of his limbs. Stood up shakily. The smell hit him now. The smell of blood, death and vomit. He nearly had to sit down again but he didn't. He brushed himself off, wiped the messAnd walked off, towards the deserts.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 239	Posted - 2013.03.09 22:37:00 - [43] - Quote OOC: I'd just like to ask again, to all my fellow storytellers: If you had to represent the essence of your nation, exactly what defines it, with a tree, which tree would it be? I believe Brutus and Alixenus have already answered, but if guys you wish to change your decisions that's fine. Thanks :)
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 239	Posted - 2013.03.09 23:04:00 - [44] - Quote Ner'Zul Nexhawk wrote: //OOC: Does it have to be a real, existing tree, or could it be a fictional one? //End of OOC\\ Oh, go on. You can create your own trees if you like. The only limit must be they are common; not some giant world tree that all life stems from. I suppose this'll be a good way to populate our forests with our own trees. This wasn't the intended purpose, but there you go.
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy 240	Posted - 2013.03.10 10:51:00 - [45] - Quote Sandromin Hes wrote: New map posted, in the original map post (CHECK THE INDEX). WOOHOO. +1. I really need to stop giving this thread likes before it skews the actual milestones. But seriously, where's the love from the community? It hasn't been that bad of a read, has it? And thanks for the trees guys, very good. Creative ideas all round. And Nexhawk, unfortunately, I doubt Conyr will be paying you a visit any time soon. He's going to meet non-main characters of my making, to flesh out himself.
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy 283	Posted - 2013.03.13 21:28:00 - [46] - Quote OOC: I dont mind if you want to continue this Logipriest thing, sandromin. I made the remaining logipriests walk down a massive hole in the earth; I don't exactly know what's happened to them down there. Perhaps they still exist.
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy 299	Posted - 2013.03.15 23:24:00 - [47] - Quote Sand. Conyr was standing on the highest dune he could see, and that was all he could see. Sand. The weather was clear and calm, and for miles he could see the ocean of sand, unmoving, anticipating. He trudged on, due east. His body's logipriest restorative bodies kept him from dying of hunger or thirst, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel it. Soon, even the soft, fine sand between his toes lost its warm feeling, and was replaced by a gnawing hunger in his stomach. The worst thing, though, was the mind. It conjures up images of grand feasts, splendid banquets, your favourite childhood dessert, and this only compounded the emptiness inside of you. It masked the pain, though. Pain is in the mind. Hunger, though, was replaced by the parched, sandpaper-like texture of his throat. Dehydration killed a man before the feeling of your body shrivelling up from lack of moisture destroyed your mind. Not so for logipriests. Their natural regeneration kept them alive and sane, but in constant agony. Conyr knew his thirst would become agony if he didn't find water soon. He marched on. Why did he march on? Conyr didn't know. To get away? From whom? Himself? That's not likely. Conyr giggled, but his mouth could barely move. His mouth merely twisted into a grimace, and a dry, rasping sigh escaped from his lungs. Conyr reached the top of another dune, and looked around. Nothing. He knew he was headed east, though. The sun guided him. He looked up to try find the sun... but it was gone. What in the world? There was a hole in the sky where the sun should be. Conyr squinted, rubbed his eyes, slapped himself, but the hole stayed there. This was the madness, Conyr thought. The madness. Vyzion had told him about the logipriests who had not eaten or drank for years, and how their own powers turned against them. How it reshaped them, morphed them... into monsters. But surely it couldn't happen so soon? Conyr didn't even feel the pain yet. But the hole was growing. As Conyr watched, it grew, and grew, and suddenly he heard a wooshing sound, like the sound of an object falling. Then all was black. -- Hours later, Hakyi, an exiled sandman sand-surfing on his kalteraft, spotted a tiny patch of green with his hawk-like vision, and brought his craft around to investigate. He dug around the green and found a body of a logipriest, a young boy, covered in golden tattoos. Beside him lay a kalter seed, already sprouting. Hakyi was astounded. How did he survive a hit from a kalter seed? He checked the boy's head, and saw only a scar, miraculously healing even as he watched. Shaking his head at the mysteries of the desert, he slung the boy over his shoulder and returned to his craft, swinging around and back home.
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy 343	Posted - 2013.03.21 04:56:00 - [48] - Quote Conyr woke calmly, his eyes opening slowly, his breathing slow and even. He was on a bed, covered by rough sheets, his loincloth seemingly intact. Next to him sat a young man, a sandman, Conyr guessed. He had dark hair and dark skin, his clothes were mismatched, patched and tattered. And he was gazing right into Conyr's eyes. His pupils were elongated slightly, like a hawk, and Conyr felt a tremor of fear run through him. "Hello." Conyr gasped, his throat raspy. "Did you save me?" The man stiffened, but he held eye contact. "Yes. How did you survive?" Conyr was puzzled by that. "Erm... because you saved me?" "No one survives a falling kalter seed." "What's a kalter seed?" The man's eyes widened, but his face tensed. "It fell on your head. You should be dead." Conyr contemplated this for a moment. "Maybe it wasn't high enough to-" "IT WAS NOT HIGH ENOUGH?" the man was suddenly, unexplainably, furious. "THEY ARE ALWAYS HIGH ENOUGH. FATE DOES NOT LEAVE THESE THINGS TO CHANCE!" Conyr flinched. What in the world was wrong with this man? "I'm a logip-" "I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE! YOU SHOULD BE DEAD! I WILL KILL YOU!" And with that, he drew a long, curved machete. Conyr tried to move, but his body was weak and his muscles seized, causing him to fall from the bed on the other side of the machete-wielding maniac. "COME BACK HERE, YOU!" He jumped the bed, but Conyr rolled underneath. The man grabbed the whole bed and tossed it out of the way. Conyr scurried on all fours to the door, slowly regaining control of his muscles. Behind him, he heard the man panting from exertion. It was a foolish move on his part to waste all his energy on the bed. Conyr needed this time, because he realised the door had no knob. How was he to open it? He gazed back at the crazy man, gathering himself, seeing his prey trapped, and then Conyr knew. He stood up, back against the door, waiting. "Yeah, I survived certain death. So what?" The sandman roared, eyes bulging with fury. He charged. At the last second, Conyr jumped. A memory flashed through his eyes. "The jungle pig is ferocious, Conyr." They were on the ground, Vyzion and himself, gazing at a snorting jungle pig. "Their tempers and sheer power, however, are also their weaknesses. When clouded by anger, all other paths are sealed. There is but one decision to be made in anger, and it is always the wrong one." "But it's so big." Conyr was small, and his voice was timid. "Size is not everything." Vyzion said this loud, loud enough to be heard by the jungle pig. A challenge. It saw us, backs against a tree trunk, and snorted in derision. Pawing the ground, it waited for us to move, to try escape. Conyr was tempted; but Vyzion held his hand. "Wait for it..." It charged. Conyr gasped; it was so fast. His heart hammered as it got closer, and yet Vyzion did nothing. "Stop it!" Conyr yelled. "I can't..." muttered Vyzion. And at the last moment, he grasped Conyr under his arms, and jumped. The jungle pig slammed into the trunk behind him and crumpled, dazed. "But the tree can." The door crashed open; the sandman ran right through it. Conyr landed neatly, walked out the door, walking on the fallen sandman. He was not out cold like the jungle pig, however, and Conyr nearly lost his balance as the man moved. "Oops. Sorry." Conyr ran. Ran right past another startled young man holding a coin in his hand. "Hey!" the man shouted, his coin glowing strangely. But Conyr did not stop. For the machete man was up, and chasing. So Conyr ran. Ran right out of this sandy town, back into the sandy dunes. Size is not everything.
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy 344	Posted - 2013.03.22 02:34:00 - [49] - Quote Sandromin Hes wrote: OOC: Sandmen don't act like this (they have little to no belief in Fate in any way), so I'll be altering this reality by making it a Fate induced dream/coma; makes a lot more sense too, mainly because Conyr is at the Guild of Thought right now, being monitored and safely treated for a deep slumber. Also, Alihes is waiting for him with the presence of other logipriests... so... here goes (sorry if I'm forcing actions. Also, Sandmen don't have dark skin; in fact, they're skin matches the color of the sand. It's more yellow-white or gray.) And then, Conyr awoke. "Ah yes, it seems her actions have awoken him. His mana even seems disturbed from her interference... He's lucky she didn't kill him in his sleep," mentioned the ethereal logipriest. Conyr just sat upright, fazed by the rude awakening. "Hm, I guess I have to explain who I am to all of you. I guess I neglected that fact didn't I? Ha! How rude of me! Well, I'm... huh... I guess I haven't thought about it on my end either! Well, you can just call me... Jern? Yeah, Jern will work. Pretty good for naming several dozen logipriests on the spur of the moment, eh? Anyways, hello Conyr, there is much to explain," the newly named Jern stated confidently. Jern began explaining how the logipriests weren't fully wiped from the world, and that their presence remained. They found themselves wandering through the lands and began regaining their memories with the help of Freedom. They gathered themselves together, and placed themselves into one being, giving themselves the strength to contact someone through the plane of nothing they found themselves in. And it just so happened they chose Alihes on account of his distinct aura. OOC: Sorry about the skin colour mistake. And for the fate thing, I meant fate, just as fate. Not Fate, one of the elder gods in our tale. I should've realised it would've started confusing people, sorry about that. I just thought it would be an interesting choice of words. That is, Fate herself was not involved in anyway, or at least insofar as a god can fail to be involved. I suppose I'll go with your version of events then. END OOC. __ Conyr gazed sceptically up at the ethereal Jern as he explained. Freedom? Alihes? Aura? What was this ghost talking about? "Listen, um, Jern." Conyr's voice was shaky; he remembered he was dreaming, but not of what. Jern stopped speaking when Conyr spoke. "I don't know who you are. I don't know whether you speak the truth." Conyr took a breath. "What I do know, however, is that Vyzion left me. The others, Natyli, Hayde and Layla, left me. Darilys is dead. I am alone, they told me I'd be alone." His voice cracked a little at the last word. "But now, you... appear. In a coin. From this Alihes." Conyr nods towards the sandman. "I am finding this very hard to believe."
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy 344	Posted - 2013.03.23 00:55:00 - [50] - Quote Sandromin Hes wrote: "Ah, I myself find it very hard to believe, but all I feel- no, KNOW- is that our people can be restored if we make it back to the homeland. And it seems Sandromin is going on a journey there. So, we might as well heal two birds with one stone- go for some fun and repopulate our lands." Alihes just watched the two logipriests converse, and he began wondering what they were talking about. Some words about aura, others about Sandromin, and still others about the journey that lie ahead. It was all leading up to an adventure it seemed; everything was reaching a new milestone, and Alihes was going to be a part of it. OOC: Sorry about having to move your actions, but I had to connect these storylines in preparation for the Great Voyage. "Revive the logipriests? Restore our people?" Conyr still couldn't believe this character. Vyzion told him he'd be alone. They left him. And now there was suddenly hope? Conyr didn't know what to do... except... "Wait. I was in the middle of the desert... How did I get here?" --- OOC: my story was that Hakyi, an exlied sandman, rescued Conyr, but for some obscure reasons which I planned to reveal later, he hated Conyr as well. Now, Sandromin, I'm not sure if you do actually 'exile' the people of your nation, so if that's not the case then I'll alter that portion of my backstory for Hakyi a little. I'd like you to, well, answer Conyr's question using this exiled sandman, Hakyi, I've created; I'm not sure how he should behave. It's quite a big favour, and if you don't wish to design a whole new character, I'm happy to do so, and you can iron out any discrepencies, since this character will be a sandman. If you do create him, I would like to take control of him. I was planning a little "Fellowship" of my own, in fact. Something along the lines of the Edge Chronicles, of Captain Twig and his fellow adventurers. You see, it was my intention to allow Conyr to end up having explored all the lands, alone, and to grow as a character as he did so. And by alone, I meant not interacting with you guys in this thread. I wanted him to acquire his own crew, become a pirate (was still debating this), go on some swashbuckling adventures, etc. This voyage of yours, however, may work in my favour. So if you would do the honours of introducing my Conyr to Hakyi, I'd be eternally grateful.

Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy 349	Posted - 2013.03.23 06:00:00 - [51] - Quote OOC: Holy moly. When I asked for some backstory, I was thinking a couple of sentences. Wow; this works a little better, I'd say. __________________________ "Well." Conyr spoke up. All eyes turned to him. "I thank you, um... er-" "Hakyi." "Right. Hakyi. Thank you for bringing me here. I probably wouldn't be alive if you had not found me." Conyr turned back to Jern and Alihes. "I think, for now, I will trust you, whatever you are." Jern looked affronted. "Just the embodiment of all logipriests, is all." "Yes, but how do I know?" Conyr snapped impatiently. "Listen, I am as lost as you, Conyr." Alihes intervened. "In fact, I don't know why I should trust this spirit coin either. It simply guided me here. So the choice is yours. Come with us, or go your own way." Conyr was silent for a moment. He looked at Hakyi, and noticed the man's pupils were elongated like a cat's, and tinged yellow like a hawk's. For some reason, it reminded him of the jungle pigs in his jungle home. "Alright." Conyr pronounced each word slowly, carefully. "I will go with you, and embark on this voyage. However, I'd like to make a request. If it is fine with Hakyi, I would like him to come with us." Hakyi's magnificent eyes glazed over; his face became unreadable. Conyr thought he saw anger and guilt intermingled in them. A strange combination. Then, Hakyi nodded. Conyr smiled, pleased. "Well, that settles it." He turned to the spirit and Alihes. "What's the plan?"
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy 355	Posted - 2013.03.26 06:22:00 - [52] - Quote Vyzion Eyri wrote: OOC: Holy moly. When I asked for some backstory, I was thinking a couple of sentences. Wow; this works a little better, I'd say. __________________________ "Well." Conyr spoke up. All eyes turned to him. "I thank you, um... er-" "Hakyi." "Right. Hakyi. Thank you for bringing me here. I probably wouldn't be alive if you had not found me." Conyr turned back to Jern and Alihes. "I think, for now, I will trust you, whatever you are." Jern looked affronted. "Just the embodiment of all logipriests, is all." "Yes, but how do I know?" Conyr snapped impatiently. "Listen, I am as lost as you, Conyr." Alihes intervened. "In fact, I don't know why I should trust this spirit coin either. It simply guided me here. So the choice is yours. Come with us, or go your own way." Conyr was silent for a moment. He looked at Hakyi, and noticed the man's pupils were elongated like a cat's, and tinged yellow like a hawk's. For some reason, it reminded him of the jungle pigs in his jungle home. "Alright." Conyr pronounced each word slowly, carefully. "I will go with you, and embark on this voyage. However, I'd like to make a request. If it is fine with Hakyi, I would like him to come with us." Hakyi's magnificent eyes glazed over; his face became unreadable. Conyr thought he saw anger and guilt intermingled in them. A strange combination. Then, Hakyi nodded. Conyr smiled, pleased. "Well, that settles it." He turned to the spirit and Alihes. "What's the plan?" Neither Alihes or Jern replied. "Uh, hello?" Still nothing. "What? So suddenly this great voyage isn't meant to happen?" Hakyi looked on, amused. Conyr groaned. "Seriously, why're you guys just looking at me like that?" Hakyi walked over to the door. "Conyr. I will go prepare my kalteraft." "Kalteraft? What in the world is that?" Hakyi stared at Conyr for a moment, contemplating. Then he said "Come. I'll show you." Conyr turned to Alihes and Jern. They stood, as if conversing to each other, but without opening their mouths. "Well, if you guys can here me, I'll be outside once you snap out of your reverie or whatever." The desert sun beat down upon Conyr's head like a hammer, making his vision go blurry. He lost his balance for a moment, and stood still, eyes closed, until the world stopped spinning. Opening them, he saw his green feet contrasted against the sandy path, and looking up he saw Hakyi strolling along, due north. Conyr could barely keep his eyes open; the light was blindingly bright, and the pale material used to construct the city's buildings seemed to intensify it. I enter the great city of the sandmen, Conyr thought. And I can't even see a thing. He could barely track Hakyi as he walked briskly, trying to hide his face. Not hard, considering he was swathed in light cloths to protect himself from sand and sun. Conyr, however, was feeling decidedly uncomfortable in a loincloth. After several long minutes of stumbling and some strange looks, the pair reached the city edge. Beyond, there was only desert as far as Conyr could discern, although that wasn't much. He found Hakyi standing in a stable-like building, except when Conyr entered, blessing the shade, he did not see anything like horses. What he did see were small boat-like craft, made of wood, with a huge cloth sail which seem to be made of the same material Hakyi's clothes were made of. The one Hakyi was approaching was designed with elegant lines, and the mast was thin and streamlined. There were ropes attached to many different parts of the ship, the kalteraft, as Conyr realised, and each rope eventually found its way back to the stern of the raft, knotted and tied to form a sort of steering mechanism. Compared to the other craft inside, Hakyi's kalteraft was majestic and seemed much better maintained. It was a king amongst peasants. Hakyi broke the silence. "This is my kalteraft." "What's her name?" Hakyi hesitated. "Wyngad." And then Conyr saw small, smooth protrusions in the hull, so well integrated he had missed them before. Wyngad; the protrusions formed the name, Wyngad. "She's beautiful." "She's all I have." Conyr looked again at the sandman, at his eyes, and he could tell this man spoke the truth. His kalteraft was all he had. ___ OOC: Loving the lore and everything. To be honest, it makes sense that we're all confused as to which version is right. History is written by the victor, gentlemen, and no one's victorious yet. ;)
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy 369	Posted - 2013.03.29 23:56:00 - [53] - Quote Conyr kicked at... sand. Again. He was bored, waiting for Jern. What could the spirit possibly be doing that takes so long? Thinking about destiny? Pondering the mysteries of life? Perhaps he's trying to organise the entire history and lore of this planet. Conyr chuckled as he thought this; surely no creature could possibly achieve that. He looked over at Hakyi, polishing the Wyngad. The sandman's hands move with precision and care, his fierce eyes tender as he checked the sail for any ruptures or compromises. Hours later, as the sun was setting (OOC:This is the same day the Embershard and Thanatos' airship witnessed Brutus jump from both of their vessels. So it's dusk of that day.), Hakyi sighed, satisfied. He turned and looked for the boy, Conyr. There he was. Hakyi walked over to the logipriest, sleeping on the sand. As much as he tried, he still felt anger. This boy survived the judgement of the kalter seed. I cannot forget this. Conyr stirred, waking from his light nap. He saw Hakyi standing over him, face in flickering shadow, and smiled. "Hey there." He turned, and noticed the fading light outside. Frowning, Conyr turned back to Hakyi. "You know what? Let's go." "Where?" Hakyi asked, even as he walked over to begin preparing his kalteraft. "North." Hakyi stopped and turned. "The mountains? Dwarven mountains? Lucia?" Conyr grinned, and Hakyi thought his eyes glowed. But perhaps it was just the torchlight. "Yeah, lets go to Lucia."
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy 378	Posted - 2013.04.02 12:53:00 - [54] - Quote It's immensely amusing to read how we treat our gods. We scream at them, scoff at them, laugh at them, ignore them and defy them. No respect, no fear; no ones sucking up to a god in the hope of great power either. I love it.
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy ROFL BROS 384	Posted - 2013.04.06 10:55:00 - [55] - Quote Brutus Pyrus wrote: Brutus looked up at the now landing air ship. A bellow of joy uttered around the lands, Brutus began jumping up and down to show where he was at. The giant began to run to where the ship was landing. He wondered how long he had been waiting for his companions. Hours? A day? He knew naught. Such joy for such a short wait! But the giant remembered so etching that he was ashamed to have forgotten. Conyr was not here with him. The giant was in a new country, was (for all purposes) on an airship., and his quite possible best friend in this world, was gone still. The giant stopped his earthshaking jump and went silent again. Where was his friend? Was he safe? Brutus felt like he was going to cry. But he couldn't, or wouldn't. He would have to let his sadness wash over him. Like a wave from the ocean. Brutus didn't know what to do, so he just sat, and noticed for the first time, the blossoms that surrounded him. They were such a deep golden color. Brutus looked at his own orange- brown tinted armor in shame. He had once seen his mighty plate armor as a shining example of strength and beauty,but these blossoms put the color of his shell to shame. Brutus picked one up delicately... So small in his hands. So perfect. Brutus stood slowly not taking his eyes from the little plant. He opened his hand and blew it away. He watched it float in the air. His thoughts flickered to the airship getting ready to dock. Brutus heard a small metal tink, it was starting to rain, Brutus looked to the heavens, a drizzle only. The sky wept at the beauty of the blossoms, and at the sadness of the giant. Brutus cried with the sky, but his sobs would be silent. He had to be strong. He had to be strong for his people, for his family, for his companions...for Conyr. The giant shook his head and began to walk to where the mighty air ship was docking. OOC: DAMNIT BRUTUS! You're making me regret taking Conyr from you. Stop making me sigh with despair whenever I see that that lonely ache in the giant's giant heart is my fault! Oh god, I'm gonna cry now... don't look guys. /OOC _________ "This is amazing!" The thrill of sand surfing was so amazing it actually hurt. The speed, the leaps, the sensation of bees stinging any bit of exposed flesh as sand whipped Conyr and Hakyi mercilessly, the pulsing heat of the sun on their backs, the reflected glare of its glow off the white sand into their eyes, the whistling of the wind, the creaking of the mast, the flapping of the sail, the smell of sweat and sand and heat, all these sensations combined to become an all-consuming roar that engaged all of Conyr at once and he loved it. "MY NAME IS CONYR!" he screamed into the wind, which snatched his words away from him like a mother taking a toy from a disobedient child. "I AM A LOGIPRIEST!" Hakyi didn't smile. Conyr had come to recognise that at the helm, this sandman became one with his craft. There was only one person on this kalteraft and that was Conyr. Hakyi brow was furrowed, his mouth set, and his eyes were darting between the compass, the sail and the ground, every single moment required new adjustments to the ropes which he had tied to his arms and, Conyr realised as he looked more carefully, his legs. His whole body controlled the ship. No. He is the ship. And as Conyr watched in wonder as this Hakyi piloted his raft with masterful grace, his head split in pain and his consciousness faded so fast he had no time to yell out. - I looked down at Conyr, one year old, lying on the grass and staring at the foliage above in fascination. Fascination which was frighteningly intense. He did not make a noise, did not move a limb, simply stared. His eyes are so wide, so innocent. "Hello, son." I whispered. My child didn't stir. "You should know that, due to our promiscuity, our children are raised by the community. You will not have two parents, you will have dozens. Dozens of adults who love you, care for you, whose hearts are warmed by you as they watch you grow and develop. You should also know that there have been instances where the true parents of a child can choose to raise their son or daughter themselves, and hence imbue a little bit of themselves in the next generation, to in a way become immortal. You should know that I have chosen the former. I do not wish for you to be raised by me and your mother. It is too... Let me just say that, since I'm sitting here, talking to you at an age which cannot remember, an age where your brain is but a seed and my words are merely water to help you grow, you don't want me to be your father. I am a coward, and what I am doing right now proves it. You will be greater than me, Conyr. Greater than all of us." He was asleep now, those luminous green eyes closed against the world, against me. - Greater...Conyr... All of us... Father... Conyr... Sand... - "CONYR!" "WHAT!?" I yelled, opening my eyes angrily. Hakyi looked taken aback. "You're awake." "With you shouting in my ears, I don't doubt it." Hakyi paused, swallowed, and Conyr saw some inner conflict rage through him as his face twitched. He turned to look at the Wyngad, and instantly calmed. Conyr blushed, feeling slightly guilty at his outburst. The logipriest turned away, and gasped. He couldn't help it; his neck simply bent back, back ,back, and still the peaks climbed before him. The steel-grey, whitish-purple and bluish-green peaks of Lucia dominated his view, and Conyr was humbled by their sheer size. "My Wyngad won't be much use here." Conyr didn't turn back, still ashamed that he had snapped at the sandman so unnecessarily. But the dream... the details were blurred and mutilated by his imagination; all he could recall were lush green leaves and a voice. A voice that used his name. "It's alright, Hakyi. I'll help you carry it."
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy ROFL BROS 399	Posted - 2013.04.07 16:07:00 - [56] - Quote OOC: Galrick's posts bring up an interesting point to consider. Where are we going? I'm happy to continue plunging into the dark and extracting the most fantastical tales from somewhere inside of me, but in the far, far future, what so you guys foresee? I mean, are we creating our own New Eden here? Perhaps we are the remnants of a space-age civilisation when we were fatefully cut off from everyone else when a worm hole closed? Or are we never going to progress to this technological tier? Right now, FTL and clone technology would screw up our story because we're progressing in a style which favours the magical, not technological. This is very strange because I've never seen a story where magic and gods are juxtaposed against such an objective race as the Collective. I've never seen, barring the Force, any magical power combined with spaceships and warp drives. We might be forging a new genre here, my friends. I only hope that the story does not restrict new writers from joining us. 40 pages is daunting enough to fight through without creating too many rules to abide by that all our readers (not even sure how many actually read this besides us) are afraid to join in on the fun because they fear tripping over lore bombs, slipping up on technological progression or falling into endless plot holes. If Galrick wishes, I don't see why he can't simply depart from the planet in his Ark. Some might go with him, some may not. There are so many paths, so many crossroads, that it isn't necessary to tell him he can't progress this fast. He could leave behind the knowledge needed to create our own starships. He could stay and remain how he is, and the Ark project could experience some unforeseen crisis and is shut down for a few decades. If we decided to follow his idea, using his Ark as Noah did his, and evacuated before the supernova that I foolishly decided to add without really thinking it through, this is still viable. Hell, Galrick, you could even delve into the creation or birthing process of new robots for a couple of pages while you wait for events to turn towards your favour. I, for one, would be intrigued by how your robots come to be. There are dozens of other thing that are possible, hundreds of thousands even. Options, my friends. We have them. Never say never, and at the risk of sounding even more cliche, always endeavour! Remember, this is freedom. Writing is freedom. Swords are sharp, guns are powerful, Death Stars can decimate planets, gods create them. Words can form them all, and destroy them in an instant. And let me tell you. If we were word-warriors, gentlemen, we would be the elite. Forty pages, from a humble beginning. This is no mean feat, especially with such a boring audience. (I kid, I kid.)
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy ROFL BROS 459	Posted - 2013.04.12 07:20:00 - [57] - Quote OOC: The following events take place after Brutus made one of those men pee his pants. _ The air was cool, the fresh breeze tussling Conyr's hair, darker now after the exposure to the sun. His green skin tingled as he walked along beaten paths through the Lucian mountains, paths which looked unused for decades. The huge mountains, reaching towards the heavens as if to defy the lofty positions of the gods, provided blissful shade, and Conyr was content. His bare feet also tingled as he stepped against cold rocks, fuzzy moss and on top of fluffy fungi. In fact, his whole body was tingling. Conyr pondered this silently, wondering what could be causing his body to act so strangely. "Stop, I must rest." Hakyi's voice echoed through the valley they were at the bottom of, between two blue mountains. Conyr sat down, cross-legged, touching his tingling skin gently. Hakyi put down the Wyngad, sighed, and leant against his craft, looking at the boy. Conyr glanced up at the mountains. The sandman stared at the golden runes which scrolled along Conyr's body, then followed the boy's gaze up. The little strip of sky above them was a pale blue, made more vibrant by its contrast to the snowy-white caps which seemed to squeeze it, suffocate it. The sky, Conyr thought, was never meant to be captured. It should not have borders like this. And with that thought, he had a sudden longing to be in the sky, winged and airborn. This urge was so intense he had his hand on the side of the valley and was about to consider climbing up when Hakyi spoke again. "What do you plan to do here?" "I... I don't know." Conyr stepped back from the wall he was about the scale, and turned back to the sandman. "Well, Wyngad is light, and there is plentiful water, but these mountains house monsters." "Monsters?" "Yes. My mother-" Hakyi broke off, and Conyr saw pain in his eyes. "But aren't there monsters in the desert too?" The kalteraft creaked as Hakyi shifted against it. "Yes. But from what I've heard there are much worse here. Creatures who use these valleys to their advantage. Giant spiders which spit globs of poison the size of a kalter seed. Little insects, each only the size of a grain of sand, which smother fires when you're asleep and in the darkness-" Conyr raised a hand. "My friend, stop. There is nothing to worry about here. These mountains are friendly, I can feel it." "You're alright," Hakyi retorted. "You survived a falling kalter seed." "What's so special about that?" "The fact that you're alive. No one has ever before survived it." "I must've been lucky." "No. It's more than that. You spent weeks in the desert, yet your skin is as crispy as roasted desert snake skin." Oh. I'm sunburnt. That's the tingling. "Roasted desert snake skin? Hakyi, are you hungry?" The sandman looked away, slightly embarassed. "Yes." "No need to be ashamed of it. I'd like something to sink my teeth into too." And at that precise moment, two shadowy creatures detached themselves from a thin ridge above the pair, and sank their teeth into their necks. Sandman and logipriest both fell under the weight of these creatures, and Conyr yelled in surprise. Their fangs, however, contained a tranquilising agent, and both the men stopped struggling in seconds. Hakyi was snoring, Conyr was silent. When the mountains ceased echoing the cries, a portion of rock disappeared from the side of the mountain, revealing a dark hole. A third figure walked out; the rock was merely a thin door-like seal to a tunnel. It walked with a limp up to the sedated man and boy. Under the dwindling light, it was short, with sparse hairs on its head and a rough, mud-caked face. Its limbs were knobbly, arms dangling down to his knees. A huge, bulbous nose dominated its face, and thick brows shadowed bright mossy-green eyes. A dwarf. "My my my, what have we here? Well done, my darlings. Well-" The dwarf shrieked. "Raveria! What have they done to you!" One of the creatures was bleeding, oozing bright yellow blood. Out of its side protruded a knife that Hakyi had managed to procure before he fell asleep. The dwarf picked it up and stroked it, murmuring soothing words. "Its okay, mommy will take care of you. Its okay, shush now, stop crying. Now now, dear, now now." The other creature leapt onto the dwarf's shoulder, vying for attention. "Wait, Raveral. Can't you see your brother is hurt?" Suddenly, Conyr stirred. The dwarf froze for a moment. "Move? Move so soon? He should be asleep for hours! Did you-, yes, Raveral. You must've bit for too long! The nightmares will come faster now. The nightmares will be stronger now. No, no, no. We must tie them up. We must go tie them up before they hurt themselves." The uninjured creature jumped down from the dwarf's shoulders, grabbed Hakyi by his ankles, and began dragging him into the hole. The dwarf grabbed Conyr under his armpits and threw him in. Then it walked in itself, resealing the rock, plunging the group into darkness. _ OOC: Xavier, what are dwarves meant to look like? :P
Vyzion Eyri The Legion Academy ROFL BROS 459	Posted - 2013.04.12 08:03:00 - [58] - Quote Galrick M'kron wrote: long beard I hope this part is true. I can feel my story-senses tingling.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 466	Posted - 2013.04.13 00:45:00 - [59] - Quote Thanatos 716 wrote: OOC:By the way tis I who brought the Elder Gods Alixenus. I merely had that huge episode between my logipriests/priestesses with an unknown entity, a woman with a beautiful voice who had the power to show my characters the future, the past, etc. Or that is what they believed. I actually did intend for this character to be Fate, though, interestingly enough. I didn't know anyone had plans of their own to introduce it at the time. That's why I had Vyzion tell this woman, who actually was fate, that "Fate will guide our footsteps", not knowing that this person who has orchestrated the supernova was Fate herself. Vyzion assumed he was defying, but he was actually sealing the control Fate had over our race. Which is going to be very interesting later on... But anyways. I wasn't planning on getting involved as deeply with the gods as Thanatos had planned, so in essence you did truly introduce the Elder Gods first. I merely touched on Fate. (Page 14)
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 534	Posted - 2013.04.24 08:05:00 - [60] - Quote Sorry guys. Life moves and I struggle to keep up. I have been spending time on the forums without replying to this thread, and for that I feel extremely guilty. It's just that, well, I don't know. I have no excuses; merely laziness. _ The gap between the mainland and the logipriest island was merely a vine's swing apart, yet sitting on the edge of the cliffs, looking at the calm waters of the channel far below, it felt to me like a gap between worlds. Standing on my bare lap, one leg on each of my thighs, Conyr, now two years old, stared across the abyss to the mountainous Lucia on the other side. My arms were wrapped around his small body, and his head rested against my chest. "In those mountains live the dwarves." He burbled something indistinct, and raised a hand, reaching across. The green of his skin, each individual rounded fingernail on the outstretched fingers of the open palm, I saw his hand in startling clarity before my vision blurred and I realised tears cloaked my eyes, veiled myself from my son. I lifted a hand and wiped my eyes with two fingers, wiping the tears on the rough ground. "Dwarves, the smallest creatures I've ever known, in the largest mountains I've ever seen. Funny, hmm?" Conyr's arm was still outstretched, and looking down at his small head with little tufts of brownish hair on it, I saw his jaw moving frantically but silently. "You feel it, don't you? The tug of the world." Conyr's hand fell limp but his eyes, ever luminous, remained fixed on the steel-grey wall, the natural protection that was harnessed to great extent by the dwarves. "We are blessed never to feel pain from a small cut, even a large gash. We are blessed to be able to live longer than most, and die peacefully in our sleep, our bodies only feeling tired, never old." I stood up, raising my son up over my head and letting him sit on my shoulders, my arms holding his ankles. He giggled madly. "This is our power, and we share it with no-one but ourselves." I turn away from the mountains. Conyr relaxed his back and allowed himself to flip upside down, his head between my shoulderblades, gazing at the mountains which in his vision, would now be stretching down. "But you're different, Conyr. You can share our power." - Conyr lay awake, concentrating furiously. The cool breeze, the warm body he lay against, the voice, the- "I'm PRETTY again!" And the dream was gone. Conyr shut his eyes tight and clenched his fists, frustrated. "Pretty, pretty, pretty!" Next to him, Hakyi's voice was murmuring fiercely, muttering in a strange language, but Conyr recognised one word. "Wyngad." "Raveral, Raveria, LOOK! I'm not burned anymore!" Strange clicking noises made Conyr shiver down to his very bones, and he sat up. The voice was instantly silenced. It was dark, and as Conyr breathed in damp, earthy air and listened to his own breathing, feeling the oppressive weight around him, he knew he was underground. He heard the sound of bubbling water, muffled but distinct, in the direction of the voice. Shakily, Conyr stood up and instantly bashed his head against the low ceiling, nearly knocking himself out again. He fell heavily back onto the rough blanket he was sleeping on and visions flashed before his eyes. Him and Hakyi sand surfing, the Lucian ravine, the channel between the logipriest island and the mainland- his dream! He remembered something, something to do w- A scratching noise interrupted Conyr and suddenly his vision exploded with white, blinding him. Conyr cried out in pain as his pupils contracted rapidly, and he curled into a ball, eyes tightly shut. "Well, I ain't expected that. This boy should be dreaming still. I was thinking Raveral bit him nice and good. Raveral, you bit him good, yes?" Clicking in reply. "I thought so. Strange. It must be a magical day. I wake up all pretty like, and this boy wakes up before the man from our special concoction - ooooh, I love that word, don't you, Raveria? -, and he wakes up, yes, and he's looking at me now, hello, boy!" Conyr didn't reply. He stared at the dwarf, a female dwarf, with large brown doe's eyes and long, greasy brown hair which reached her knees. This, Conyr thought, wasn't much to boast about, since her head looked to only reach his stomach level. She was young, Conyr guessed, although he knew nothing about dwarves. She spoke, her mouth forming words as rough as the rock that surrounded them. "Well, now that you're awake and fresh, it's time to be eaten!" Conyr frowned, not thinking he heard correctly. "Sorry?" His voice was raspy and he suddenly realised he had a raging thirst. The dwarf lady walked closer, smiling. "I said..." And before Conyr knew it, his hands and legs were tied together, and he was being dragged towards the sound of boiling water.

Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 535	Posted - 2013.04.24 21:19:00 - [61] - Quote Alixenus wrote: OOC: Loved the TLDR you did Xavier, worth at least four likes. Also, as Conyr is about to be cooked I was wondering: Does he count as meat or vegetables? Interesting question. I'd say, based on the morbid fear of rabbits, we'd taste like grass with the consistency of mushrooms.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 566	Posted - 2013.04.30 12:31:00 - [62] - Quote OOC: I love how we keep each other going. I'll admit right here, if I were writing a story of such magnitude alone, I would've given up a long time ago. ______ Conyr struggled as he was dragged closer and closer to the pot, which now loomed over his vision as if it were a malevolent king, hissing and spitting at its unworthy subjects. The single torch held by the dwarf girl - for Conyr seemed to think she was fairly young, however crazy she was- combined with the roaring blaze under the cauldron cast eerie, dancing light and equally fluid shadows over the large cave the logipriest now found himself in. The strange creature dragging him, which looked like a scrawny monkey with a strange, wolfish face and completely black eyes, stopped before its back touched the pot and looked at the dwarf, supposedly for further instructions. Conyr was panting hard, trying to fill his lungs with the warm, moist air but never feeling as if a breath was enough. The cauldron boiled on, imperiously disregarding the logipriest's fear and inner turmoil. "Please..." Conyr's voice was still raspy from thirst, and it occurred to him that it was cruel irony that he was probably going to die in a pot of water. "Oh, listen! Listen, Raveral, listen, Raveria. The green one speaks! What have you to say, little green food?" "I don't taste good." The dwarf laughed, laughed so hard the creature on her shoulder clutched her neck in surprise as she tossed her head back. For a solid minute, she guffawed until, managing to stifle the mirth to a hearty chuckle, she wiped the tears from her eyes. Then as suddenly as she had started laughing, her expression changed into a demented mask, her eyes boring holes into Conyr, striking fear into his heart. She stared at Conyr for another long minute, until the fear subsided and Conyr was feeling more puzzled than alarmed. Then she looked away, crooning to her monkeys, who were jumping around her in circles, screeching softly back at her. Then they stopped, and all three turned towards Conyr. "We have come, hehehe, to a-" and she couldn't contain herself, and suddenly she was laughing again. Then she stopped. Then she turned back to Conyr. "An AGREEMENT!" Conyr flinched in his bonds at the resounding boom of her voice. "We won't eat you." Conyr could barely contain a sigh of relief, and suddenly he felt the air feel cooler and easier to inhale. "But we will eat your friend. You can join us if you like." And with that, she walked out, back into the tunnel towards Hakyi, her monkeys in tow. Conyr was left staring at their receding backs, horrorstruck.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 571	Posted - 2013.05.02 12:56:00 - [63] - Quote Galrick M'kron wrote: OOC: @Thanatos, the Engineer and Vektor were having a conversation a while back. When are you going to continue? Hehehe. Seems Thanatos has bitten off more than he can chew. He needs to respond to you, Brutus, and is currently required to respond to Nexhawk, Sandy, Alixenus and an unconscious dwarf king. And about killing main characters: I think I always planned for Conyr to die, as much as it troubles me. But there you go. Not sure when, but I do intend to grab a good opportunity when I see it. __ The rasping sound of Hakyi's garb against the rough rock of the floor of the tunnel leading to the kitchen (although, Conyr mused in a distant corner of his head, a cave with a pot was barely that) chilled Conyr's spine even in the stifling heat. The sandman was still unconscious, muttering incoherently, but always Conyr noticed that "Wyngad" was mentioned at least every second breath. It made Conyr feel so lonely, knowing the sandman had his kalterraft, whilst Conyr had nothing. No, not now. Despair can wait. "Hey." Conyr's voice was slightly less rough; the moisture in the air had soothed his throat. The dwarf girl turned, dropping the Hakyi's arms unceremoniously as she turned to look at the logipriest. "You want the arms?" she giggled. "No. I love eating the arms. Arms are mine." "No, no. You see, we were carrying a craft when we were back in the ravine. Where is it?" "Boat? Sand boat?" Conyr's eyes lit up. "Yeah! A kalteraft. Have you seen it?" The dwarf was silent, but her gaze lifted off Conyr and to- No. Oh please, no, no no- Conyr turned and saw the boiling cauldron, water now frothing violently. He saw the raging fire beneath it, the heat almost a physical force against Conyr's face and an almost unbearable pressure on his eyes, heating the thick bottom, turning it cherry-red and yellow-orange. He saw the huge chunks of wood, but not logs. Not rough wood. Not firewood. Smooth, lacquered wood. Not rough-hewn, chopped wood, but wood with smooth, elegant lines. The Wyngad. And when Conyr realised the terrible truth, an incredible sense of betrayal fell onto his chest, the force even greater than any pain he had felt before, winding him and forcing him to lie on the ground, panting, his chest beating painfully, his heart frantic, his friend's only family, his only treasure, gone, gone gone gone and it was his fault, Conyr's fault and he tore at his hair and curled into a ball, unable to bear the sight of the burning kalteraft, unable to accept that the sandman would be cooked above the burning ashes of his one light in the darkness of life, and Conyr fainted. - "Where are we?" "Shhhh, Hayde." The pure darkness suddenly flickered, and light started glowing from my body. "Hey, er, Vyzion? Those golden tattoos, they're glowing. It's hurting my eyes." "That's because we haven't seen light for weeks. It's hurting mine too." "Can you... turn it off?" "No, I think they glow at the end." "The end?" "The end of life." "Wait, wait, wait. You're going to DIE?" Natyli stepped into the faint golden light. "He's going to kill himself." Hayde was flabbergasted and speechless. Layla, one of the only Logipriests who had always possessed a modicum of respect for me, did not say anything. The silence stretched on, until Hayde broke it once again. "Why?" I held my palm out, fingers outstretched, and a light enveloped my hand for a second, before fading away, leaving behind a long, ornamental knife. Hayde stepped back. "Whoa, whoa. How'd you- where'd that- who the-" "Questions, so many questions." I inverted the knife, and stabbed my heart. With my remaining seconds of life, I addressed Natyli. "I'll wait forever." And as my vision faded, I saw her nod briefly, saw her eyes attempting but failing to hide the infinite sorrow that made her nose twitch, an endearing aspect to her that made my heart ache with love every time I saw it. I smiled then, as I realised I could feel my heart aching around the blade which it was now impaled on. Love was always stronger than death. - Hakyi awoke screaming and naked. His body was half-submerged in boiling water and as he watched, he was slowly being lowered into the pot. The pain was excruciating, and tears blurred Hakyi's vision as raw, animal sounds tore themselves from his throat, his body thrashing uncontrollably but only managing to sear itself against the red-hot sides of the pot and cause more water to splash onto his body, his conscious, only just torn from the depths of a nightmare, already fading as his vision flashed red and black, his body's retaliation at such absolute pain slowly becoming more pitiful and weak, and Hakyi realised he was going to die. Then his vision flashed gold, and slowly, blackness encroached upon its purity, from the edges of his vision, slowly, taking over the gold, slowly, corrupting the gold, slowly, slowly, until all that was left was a spot of gold, and the darkness appeared a tunnel, and Hakyi tried to move, to move towards the gold, but the darkness kept stretching, until... nothing. Conyr's eyes were gold. The runes on his body were burning as bright as the sun, and they rotated and flowed across his body. He was on both feet, the bonds disintegrated, his green skin shimmering, as pure, unadulterated power coursed through his body like a golden inferno. He turned to the dwarf girl, and she cowered away from him. Conyr saw Hakyi's body, unmoving, and when the smell of cooked flesh hit him, the power within him reared in anger, and his light turned from gold to red. "You did this." He growled, turning back to the dwarf girl. And then Conyr was buried in snow.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 585	Posted - 2013.05.04 13:44:00 - [64] - Quote OOC: No worries, peoples. No one has 'died', essentially. Except myself. I definitely killed myself with the knife. _ Conyr lay there, holding his breath but unaware he was doing so, staring at the white world. It was boundless and cold, and all he could see was white. Pure white. He tried to move a leg, but he couldn't. An arm, but it wouldn't. He felt no pain, had no thirst, the hunger pangs which were creeping up on him in that cave- and that was when Conyr tried to draw breathe, and failed. And then his body went into panic mode. Which way was air, when he couldn't move and everything was white? Which way was relief for his aching lungs? He clenched his fists and curled his toes, and felt the icy cold substance which surrounded him grit against his palm and foot. Snow? I'm underneath snow? And then he lost conscience. - He's shivering. I can hear his teeth chatter, but still he plays in the snow. "Come on, Conyr. It's time to go." I was crouching on a fallen log, buried up to my ankles in snow, watching my son make snow angels, giggling uncontrollably, his laughter punctuated by the rackety breaths he takes as the snow seeps through the warmth of his enjoyment. I sighed, and leaned over him, throwing him up into the air and catching him by the ankles. I grunted as he squealed in delight; he was heavier now. His fourth winter and his fourth birthday. It was the only reason I let him out in the first place. Throwing him over my shoulder, I traipsed back to the village. My breath sent clouds of steam into the air, and I felt Conyr's own irregular, shivery breathing tickling my back. "Snow is soft, Conyr. Snow is pure. Snow is so innocent and beautiful." My son remained silent; his favourite response. "But its sparkling, silken quality disguises treachery." The forest was silent; the sun gave life, and without it life hid. I leapt from fallen log to rocky outcrop to another log, looking for the telltale sharp edges in the snow which gave away the safe path, the stepping stones. "It enchants you,",and here I jumped onto a rock, "it seduces you", now an empty patch of ground, "and when you least expect it..." I hop onto a patch of snow and quickly leap off, onto a low branch. I pick Conyr up off my shoulders, formed a snowball with my other hand from the snow on the branch and hand it to him. "Throw it at the spot I just jumped off." He did. The snowball arced through the air, as silent as a swooping owl, and hit the patch of snow with a muffled thump. Silence... then the whole patch, weakened by mine and Conyr's weight, caved in with a 'swooosh-thump', and revealed the pit it had disguised. - Conyr opened his eyes, and once again he was in the white world. Without thinking, he sat up. Swooosh-thump. The snow covering him fell off his body. He was sitting on top of a Lucian mountain, with a strange voice in his head. "Snow is devious, Conyr. It wraps you up like a blanket, and you want to lie in it forever. But keep this in mind, dear boy. Blankets are thrown off come dawn." And he knew it was his father speaking. So it was half buried in snow, on top of the world, that Conyr found himself crying tears which froze as they fell from his warm cheeks, crying in and because of solitude.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 589	Posted - 2013.05.05 11:00:00 - [65] - Quote OOC: Y'know, this place was where I made my first post. Everywhere else in the forums was too intimidating and dark when I first set foot here. Speaking as fairly experienced forum and/or keyboard warrior, yet I was still scared to post. That feeling that I was scrutinised, assessed, analysed, that I wouldn't be noticed, that I'd just make a fool of myself paralysed me before I'd hit the post button, and I'd cancel the post instead. But when I found this budding thread, with Alixenus' and Sandy's valiant beginnings, I found the light in this darkness. This is where we take dust and mould it into life; and no amount of thread derailing can take that from us. FOR DUSTIA! ('cause who needs Aslan (sorry Aslan, I love you. PLEASE DON'T BAN ME FROM GOING TO NARNIA WHEN I DIE)).
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 645	Posted - 2013.05.13 13:03:00 - [66] - Quote Conyr scraped his frozen tears from his face and stood up. He realised he was so high that he couldn't see what was beyond his immediate surroundsings because he was standing in a cloud. The temperature was freezing cold; it was his logipriest blood that kept him warm. Conyr was just glad there didn't seem to be any wind. It was eerie, wading through the thick layer of snow, arms outstretched to keep his balance, but Conyr had started moving and he didn't want to stop. A splash sounded to his left. Conyr swirled then froze, facing the location the noise had came from, and listened intently. Another splash. "Hello?" Conyr's voice carried clearly through the cloud, piercing the fog and silence. "Hakyi?" Conyr tentatively stepped forward. And again. Suddenly the whiteness of the cloud darkened and a form took shape. It looked like a lump on the ground, rising... falling... breathing. Conyr was right on top of it when he realised it was the dwarf. Conyr couldn't recognise her. Her face was ravaged by fire, horrible burns which mutilated her previously smooth skin and charred her scalp, turning her hairless. One eye was burnt to a crisp and all Conyr saw in the socket was blackness, the other was closed and relatively intact. Her mouth was open and her breathing sounded more like rasping; Conyr supposed her lungs were damaged too. How did this happen? Conyr struggled to remember. The valley... the attack... waking up... the pot... Hakyi... Hakyi cooking... then... whiteness. Conyr opened his eyes and jumped back in surprise as he saw the dwarf had opened her one good eye and was staring with a piercing gaze right Conyr's eyes, her pupil a magnificent shade of violet that he had not noticed in the darkness of the cave, but it did not mask the intensity with which she stared at the logipriest. ___ OOC: Going to be posting a little shorter now. Been running out of ideas so I'm reverting to the old make it up and hope for the best technique. Shorter posts also means you guys don't have to read so much nonsense from me. :)
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 675	Posted - 2013.05.17 14:12:00 - [67] - Quote Galrick M'kron wrote: OOC: +Åa, +Åa! May Cthulhu bless this threadnought for all eternity! BTW, where's Vyzion? OOC: Sorry guys. Been playing DUST, fitting DUST around my studying, fitting studying around my studying (yeah, tell me 'bout it), and in those stolen moments of time which I have to hop on the forums, I post everywhere but here. That'll change soon. Stay tuned for more Conyricles. :D
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 686	Posted - 2013.05.21 11:18:00 - [68] - Quote Sand. Again. Conyr wondered how he was still alive, feeling presently as if he was expelling more air due to his incessant sighing than he was breathing back in. He looked at the horizon across the desert, and the day was so clear and the desert so large and so flat that Conyr could've sworn he saw the curvature of the planet. Marvellous. Beyond that horizon, he knew, was Venezzia. There was the beginning of this meandering journey which the logipriest felt had lasted a lifetime, but in reality merely spanned a few weeks, maybe a month or two. Time had stretched and dilated, compressed and expanded until the only temporal constant to Conyr was the unrelenting, periodic pounding of a headache which he didn't notice until reached the bottom of the enormous Lucian mountain which he had found himself on top of. It was strange, the little logipriest mused, that the events beyond witnessing Hakyi's death were simply gone from his mind. He felt as if he should know what had happened, but all he remembered was the light, the bright light. It was tinged with green, Conyr now realised. And then he was clambering down the mountain slope, sliding, rolling, at times losing control but always regaining his footing, using all he knew about navigating an overgrown jungle and applying it to the rocks and snow. When he had finally hit level ground, he found himself at the edge of Lucia, right on the border, staring out at the desert and nursing innumerable scrapes and cuts which were healed even as he stood there. He stood, admiring the sunrise, and simultaneously wept more silent tears which made his shoulders shudder but he refused to make a sound, not even a whimper of sorrow, for his sandman friend. He closed his eyes, then, and willed himself to imprint upon his very identity the fierce happiness that he knew burned inside Hakyi's heart when he piloted his kalteraft. Then he opened his eyes, and Conyr found himself a new companion. The headache. And so he sighed, and realised that this sigh was not the first, nor would it be the last. Which is how Conyr found himself presently, pondering the recent events of his young life, sighing inconsistently, and walking back into the malevolent yet benevolent sun of the desert, the all-seeing eye of the sands, its pounding heat a known friend to Conyr now, but as accustomed as he had become to it, the heat magnified his headache to such proportions it took tremendous effort for him to place one foot in front of the other. But he did. He did with the fortitude of a giant, and Conyr grinned to himself despite his situation as he recalled the one giant he remembered meeting in this very desert, one who had almost sat on him. And he never faltered, this young logipriest, not one step on his retracing of his path, as he returned to Venezzia.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 702	Posted - 2013.05.28 23:01:00 - [69] - Quote Walking over the sandy dunes of the great desert of Dustia, Conyr felt the universe shift. No, not shift; it wasn't so strange as for Conyr to stop walking. It was as if everything in existence flinched, and Conyr's perspective of the world adjusted accordingly. For the most fleeting second, the sands under his feet felt softer and cooler. The light breeze was became chillingly cold. The sunlight lost its heat, and instead of a warmth enveloping his skin Conyr felt searing heat. His muscles trembled for that slightest second, his mind froze, his eyes wavered and his mouth trembled as everything around him seemed to become alien, unknown. Then the shift was gone, and reality came pouring back into Conyr's mind, and that was when he collapsed. Panting on all fours, he wondered what had caused that strangest phenomenon. His headache? Did he have a fever? He pressed his forehead into the sand and closed his eyes for a moment. And that was when reality ceased returning. But it was as if the void from which it returned could not be sealed immediately, and after reality came knowledge. So it was lying head down in the sands that Conyr realised the true magnitude of the world, the hundreds of thousands of lives in a constant flow of routine and reaction to changes to routine. He realised that even as he walked, people died, fought, killed, loved, cried and screamed in utter fear, somewhere out there. And not only did he realise it, he understood it. He knew each individual had their motives. Their dreams and hopes. Their lives and families. He realised that evil and good were perhaps never just black and white. He realised that without pain, there is no strength. He realised that the imperfections of the world gave rise to the perfection of those moments where one felt nothing could go wrong. Conyr realised that the world facilitated all this, from the warmest love to the coldest hate, with unblinking indifference. And this was when his heart filled with a indescribable feeling, sheer joy and sorrow combined, nostalgic hope, and Conyr marvelled at the world, at its complexity and levels, its failings and achievements, and he felt as if he might burst from his physical body. But then it passed. The knowledge -or the capacity to be able to comprehend the knowledge already in his mind, Conyr realised- sealed itself off from him in the dark fringes of his consciousness, and although he knew what had just transpired he knew he would never be able to understand like that again. So he breathed in... and out. And he realised his headache was gone. "I am Conyr, and I am a logipriest." He muttered, affirming a thousand things at once, from his ability to speak to his true identity, from his mind's purpose to his body's existence. And he walked on, in a dead straight line from Lucia to Venezzia.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 725	Posted - 2013.06.05 13:17:00 - [70] - Quote Logipriests don't usually sleep. Most of their life is spent awake, as their natural regeneration also accounts for the weariness that cripples so many. That being said, when the urge to sleep strikes, it strikes suddenly and a logipriest will feel as if an elephant just fell on his or her shoulders. Which is exactly what has just happened to Conyr. The young logipriest was walking one moment, admiring the clear night sky of the desert, relishing the blessed cool of the darkness, before his knees suddenly buckled underneath him. So he knelt there, hands limp by his sides, eyes glazed, swaying in the light breeze. Then he fell backwards, his consciousness falling away too, submitting to the void of darkness. Conyr's final thought before he succumbed to sleep was: This is the first time since we woke from our zombie trance that I've fallen unconscious without being smashed in the head, bitten... tasered... battered... thrown around...... then his eyelids closed over his mossy-green eyes, and all was dark. Conyr dreamed, then. He walked along a long wooden rope bridge, unrealistically long, so long it stretched over the horizon. It was a rickety thing, swaying and creaking in the wind. Despite its length, it was only wide enough to walk single-file. And what a wind it was! Conyr gripped the ropes on either side to steady himself as the bridge was tossed from side to side. I need to get off this thing. Conyr turned to look behind him, and realised the bridge went forever in that direction too. He looked up and nearly blinded himself when he looked straight into the huge sun. Then, in the slow dawning of understanding that comes with dreams, feeling as if he was underwater, Conyr looked down. And he realised that he was up, further than he had ever been, above the little puffs of white that he realised were clouds, above the little crust of green and gold and grey that was smaller than his hand that he realised was Mediterra. The wind was still ferociously beating the bridge, and the cold seeped into Conyr's bones slowly, but strangely his back remained warm. Conyr decided, in the sluggish way all dreamers processed information, that he should move. So he took a step forward. And another. And so he progressed along the bridge, still feeling as if he were underwater, as if he couldn't run even if he wanted to. He simply walked, ever so slowly, both hands holding onto the ropes, his body trembling at such heights. Time was not in control here. Conyr couldn't tell how long he had been walking for. He couldn't tell how long each step took. He simply kept walking and walking, getting buffeted by the wind but still walking, nearly slipping and falling off but still walking. Then he stopped. Because suddenly there was someone in front of him. "Hello, Conyr." "Hello, ma'am." The lady possessed a terrible beauty. Her eyes were a multitude of colours at once, and it hurt to look into them. Her body was naked save for a loincloth which was made of sheer black silk, and her creamy white skin seemed not only to reflect the sun, but also emitted a glow of her own. She was silent, and Conyr noticed -and a shiver ran down his spine as he did- that she did not seem to be effected by the raging wind. She smiled. "Oh, yes. The winds of Fate, Conyr. They don't affect me at all. Would you care to guess why?" "You defy Fate?" She blinked and her eyes stopped changing colour for a moment; she looked lost. Then she regained her composure and her eyes became dizzyingly colourful again. "No, Conyr. I am Fate." Her voice wasn't carried away by the wind; it reached Conyr's ears as if she were standing right next to him in a quiet room. "Oh, well, if you don't mind, would you care to stand aside? I want to keep walking." Conyr, on the other hand, had to yell to hear himself above the gale. She smiled. "I should have realised. You are but a boy. Your innocence protects you." She ran her hands down her bare stomach as she spoke, and Conyr looked away. "Oh? Perhaps not so innocent as I presumed." A dog, flailing on the ground, in its death throes, flashed through his mind. "Take my hand, Conyr. I will give you everything you desire, and more." Conyr turned to look at her, straight in her eyes, and spoke: "You don't know what I desire. Even I don't." A smug smile appeared on her blood-red lips. "No?" Conyr blushed. Hakyi, screaming in pain and blind terror, being cooked alive, echoed in his mind. "Come, young Logipriest. Come with me. Rapture awaits." Conyr hesitated, gulped. His loincloth felt extremely uncomfortable, and the hands which gripped the ropes of the bridge were white-knuckled. Conyr turned his back on the beautiful lady, and walked back the way he came. But she was there. He turned again. She was still there. "GO AWAY!" He yelled, but he didn't dare to move. Her smile grew wider, and Conyr tried to look away but his gaze only drifted downwards, down her neck, down... "We're in your mind, Conyr. You are in control; and you don't want me to go away." ...his eyes trailed down her entire body, her entire, perfect body, and came to rest on the wooden planks under her feet. And Conyr, his eyes downcast, spoke: "I don't want you to go." "No, no you don't." Her voice was sweet as honey. "You want me to come with you." "Yes, dear." "And I want it. Because I'm in my head." "Yes." And Conyr, his eyes still downcast, took a step forward- and leapt off the bridge.

Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 729	Posted - 2013.06.06 07:55:00 - [71] - Quote Alixenus wrote: OOC:Even if this story never leaves the internet I'm glad it exists, truly one of the best I've ever read, even if it is marred by the occaisional lazy or ham-fisted post by myself. OOC: Oh, I wouldn't call anyone's storytelling lazy or awkward. I rely on you guys and your stories to keep the current flowing, so to speak. Even when my characters aren't interacting with anyone elses, I still rely on you guys to keep the world turning. To keep the universe alive, so I can reenter after a long break and still remain focused. - The wind felt more real. That was the first thing Conyr noticed as he got used to the sensation of freefalling. The tempest upon the bridge was ferocious, yes, but here... it definitely felt more real. He was falling so fast, even with his arms and legs spread out, like a bird, like the eagles soaring high above his jungle home. The wind whistled in his ears and he felt like an arrow in flight, splitting the air around him. The front of his body felt like it was being pummelled to a pulp by a giant wearing gloves made of ice; he was freezing cold. His eyeballs were rammed back in their sockets and although he clenched his jaw, his lips still parted due to the velocity of his fall. But Conyr smiled inwardly because he knew he had escaped, he was free, free as a bird. The world was sprawled out below him, and he yearned to grow wings, great feathered wings tipped with lethal talons. He yearned for yellow-tinged, fierce eyes, and a vicious beak. He yearned to become one with the air currents, the updrafts, to stall into a dive and catch the remnants of an ocean breeze to carry him safely away from the ground. He realised then that he would fly again. No matter how long he would have to wait, no matter (and he shuddered as he thought this) how many people got in his way, one day he would take to the sky again. Mediterra was filled his vision now, and Conyr angled himself towards the desert. His eyes scanned the sands, searching... searching... There. There he was. He looked at himself, asleep, curled on top of a sandy dune. He tilted his body downwards, flattened his arms against his sides and locked his legs together. He picked up speed as he dived, and just before he hit his own sleeping body he let a shout of joy escape him in a rush of elation, because he was flying. And Conyr opened his eyes. The stars were fading now, as the sky turned purple, preparing to acknowledge the sun's rising. But Conyr envied those stars. He stood up, brushed sand off himself, and stared once again up at the sky before he resumed his trek to Venezzia. I want to fly.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 735	Posted - 2013.06.09 05:19:00 - [72] - Quote Thanatos 716 wrote: - Conyr is using LSD? I was wondering what you guys thought about those passages. Hahaha.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 767	Posted - 2013.06.23 12:16:00 - [73] - Quote Conyr lay with his hands behind his head, stretched out flat on the soft ground, tufts of sand tickling his back. The stars gleamed and winked, their light bringing Conyr a sense of companionship. Conyr's breath hitched, and he struggled airlessly for a moment, before his windpipe expanded and he gulped in the cold night air. As his breathing returned to normal, the logipriest frowned. He hadn't recalled a problem with his lungs that his powers couldn't heal. But then again, that encounter with the lady... Conyr was glad his only companions were the stars, for they didn't and would never laugh at his blush. They simply continued to wink, mysteriously, promising and breaking promises. Conyr felt a tickling on his chest, and he lifted his head from his palms to see an ant crawling across him. Conyr smiled. Perhaps it wasn't only the stars who didn't care for his thoughts. Conyr liked that. He let his head back down, and thought about that. Thought about the calmness, broken only by soft cries and calls. The quiet, interspersed with the rustling of leaves and creaking of trunks. Nature was powerful in its own way. Conyr considered that new ache in his chest, the ache which yearned for the sky. He saw the Hakyi, steering his Wyngad, the joy intermingled with concentration etched on his face. I need to understand how airships work. OOC: Buying 1 ticket to the land of the dead. Any voyages available? :) I have a loincloth to barter.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 783	Posted - 2013.07.03 07:10:00 - [74] - Quote Summary? I want to give it a shot this time. Okay... back in the start, Sandy created this thread, and Alixenus pounced on it immediately. Both of them were happy trading and such, forming an alliance against potential unseen threats. Then I, being a newbie on the forum and looking for somewhere to allow me to assimilate into the community, found it. Me, being me, created the logipriests. We like to make love and be green. Essentially hippies with Restorative powers that rival those of the Dragonborn. (see Skyrim) Alixenus, probably spurred by the idea of healer-(sex)-slaves, decided to assault me. The assault (kind of done in the form that the thread meant assaults to happen) ended in a draw. Things begin to escalate from there, and it's really all a blur of craziness. Essentially, after Sandy turns my logipriests into Santa Claus and I distribute chocolate (without any fattening side effects) across Mediterra (name of the continent where most of us are situated), Xavier, Brutus, Galrick and Thanatos realised that I was making the thread too trivial. SPOILER ALERT (for Game of Thrones, Book 1) So, combining their story-telling prowess, the three of them join the story (not together, I think it was Xavier, then Brutus, Galrick, then Thanatos?) and take up the strands of the epic tale, weaving it into something that wouldn't be out of place next to George. R.R. Martin (see Game of Thrones). Currently, however, we are lacking in deaths of favourite characters. (WHY DID YOU KILL NED STARK, MARTIN. I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU) END SPOILER ALERT Anyway, the economics of the tale quickly fell away after I created a half-baked post about my logipriests being revealed the end of the world (which, by the way, I have plans to avert.). Thanatos took up that thread and expanded on it, and thus we introduced Elder Gods into our story, beings similar to the Dwarvish gods in Christopher Paolini's Eragon series. Basically, they created the world, yadayada, got into an argument, and Fate was the bad girl. Then Nexhawk got involved and well, things heated up quickly from there. (see what I did there?). Him and his fiery buddies burned their way into our paths with a tear-jerking story of being trumped by Hydromancers, in a similar fashion to how a Blastoise would douse a Charizard. Brutus, in the background, also weaves the tale of his people, and the fate (oooh) that has afflicted his homeland. Sandy keeps us on track with lore and technology, which kind of stifles the potential for Galrick to capitalise on his robot race, but hey, we're getting there. OH, how could I forget. Before Nexhawk got involved, there was a huge disease which turned all my logipriests into zombies, which invaded Xavier's mountainous Lucia for blood and brains. Alixenus, Sandromin and Xavier sought a solution to the problem. What the three of them found was Thanatos, in the Badlands. He explained... lots of things... in his airship. There was essentially a temple on my island with a book, and this book, well, it was more than that. It had to be destroyed, however, to free the logipriests from their craving for brains. So they did. Only, things go wrong, and once the spell upon my race was nullified Thanatos (which I only recently realised was Death. How clever, and how ironic) kills himself, and Xavier runs off with the book. The book, possessing malevolent dark power, decides to do a Gollum on Xavier and slowly chips away at his sanity, eventually resulting in the dwarf king (who is as tall as a tall man) losing his grip on reality, and it appears he's slowly returning to it in the current posts. My race is left decimated, and Galrick seizes this opportunity to enter into the story, and his robots apprehend me and the other five remaining logipriests. Brutus, having recently befriended Conyr, tries in vain to save the boy. As Venezzia, fresh from my zombie assault (definitely not done in the form that the thread was meant to follow), picks up the pieces, this was when my logipriests magically vanished from Galrick's testing facility (Brutus was stuck in another chamber, and he eventually gets out too) and are exposed to the prophecy of Fate. (wow, that has a nice ring to it.) Galrick's Collective detects strange solar activity, confirming the impending supernova which will decimate the planet. Fate takes a massive part in the rest of the events, and the story is currently revolving around stopping her. If I missed anything, please slap me and add/correct my post.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 1035	Posted - 2013.07.20 15:16:00 - [75] - Quote oOC: Before I reveal where Conyr is, I have two questions. Brutus, you mentioned in post #1271 'ancient airships of the great empire'. Could I get a little more information on those? And Alixenus, the pit fighting belowdecks. How does it work? Is there betting? Is it vicious? Do the losers get thrown into a corner to recuperate, or is it a friendly brawling thing? And how much alcohol is involved?
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 1036	Posted - 2013.07.21 02:52:00 - [76] - Quote Brutus Pyrus wrote: (Ooc) the airships are similar to the diyadian airships but are like the collectives in terms of agility but they are bigger. The giant nations were pretty smart, being so old and stuff. So eventually they struck up a deal with humans to help get metals and ores for their engineering and protection. So weapons and things were created. Such as airships, breakers shakers cannons of different types and eventually, biologically engineered half giants like Brutus. So giants=smart because they were born as giants. Brutus can't talk because he's actually a human in a giants body. Which is why he talks the way he does. That's why bigger giants have harder times talking. Except for Jarg and Krathisis because of special reasons that I'll talk about later. Did that answer the question? (Ooc) OOC: Awesome, thanks Brutus. ____ Conyr was quickly revising his wish to sail the skies, if sailing the ocean was this bad. He lay hidden, curled in a ball, in the hull of the Charybdis, and above him heard bloodcurdling cries of men as they (from the sounds of it) beat each other to death. The porthole Conyr lay next to was grimy and greenish, but through it the logipriest could still see the unfathomable depths of the ocean below. The seafloor had dropped long ago, and the colourful coral and fish, the vibrant marine life, had been replaced by an infinite bluish void, darkening to black. Conyr groaned as his stomach lurched with the ship's movement. He shut his eyes tight and wondered how he'd managed to get stuck in this stinking hold, the ceiling now leaking some strange liquid which Conyr realised, with a shiver, was blood. The fighting above must have escalated. Conyr imagined it now, the bruises and cuts, blood sprayed against the walls, a pit surrounded by men crying for blood, and those men surrounded by men who were betting on the blood. All intoxicated by alcohol. His insides lurched again, but not with sickness. Conyr stood up shakily, his mouth now set in a determined line. Where there was injury, it was his responsibility to cure it. A shaggy-haired dog, lifeless and sprawled on a forest floor, flashed through his mind. No. Conyr dug his fingernails into his palms, clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles turned a pale green. *-----5 days ago, before the Venezzian fleet had set sail-----* Conyr stood on the same hill he had walked up when he ran from Venezzia, alone, without family or friends. Below him sprawled the great seaside city, its harbour bustling with activity. Ranks upon ranks of soldiers marched towards it, aboard grand battleships, built for war. Conyr grinned. What better way to learn to sail the skies safely, but to learn how to sail the great seas first? He strolled down towards the entrance gate, pausing briefly kneel, place his palm against the ground and breathe. This was where he killed that dog. I'm sorry. When he reached the gates though, he sensed something was wrong. The guards flanking the entrance gazed at him suspiciously. When he tried to walk through them, the barred the way with their spears, crossing them in front of Conyr's chest. "You, you're a logipriest." The guard to the left leered at Conyr, and his voice was grainy, as if he had spent so much time at the beach sand had gotten in his lungs. Conyr nodded in response. "Come with us." The guard turned, and his companion positioned himself behind Conyr. In this fashion they marched the logipriest into Venezzia. Conyr's mind reeled. What had he done wrong? He glanced furtively around, looking for someone to provide him aid. Everyone he passed glanced curiously, then at posters plastered to walls. Conyr frowned, and as they walked past one, he tried to get a look. The guard behind him shoved him aside and tore the poster down. Conyr didn't hesitate. He leapt onto the guard's back as he stooped slightly to tear the poster down, jumped off his back to grab the balcony rail, and hauled himself onto the rooftops. Yells followed him as he dashed from roof to roof, towards the harbour. They eventually died out, however, as the streets below proved more difficult to navigate than the open rooftops. Conyr dived off the final roof before the harbour into a haystack conveniently placed below. Climbing out, he continued sprinting into the harbour, staying in the sparse shadows under the noon sun, until he reached the waterfront. Quickly glancing around and noticing no-one was watching, he jumped into the water. Swimming with an unpracticed breaststroke, Conyr slowly made his way to a ship named Charybdis. He found a long chain snaking down from the side, and frowned as he recalled what Vyzion had taught him about ships. That's... an anchor. Conyr smiled, the knowledge flooding back into his mind. He grasped the thick links that made the chain and scurried up. Halfway up, he leapt sideways onto a cannon sticking out of its port, and squeezed inside. Heart beating fast, he found a hidden nook and hid inside.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion RISE of LEGION 1036	Posted - 2013.07.21 06:38:00 - [77] - Quote Thanatos 716 wrote: On another note I would like your input all. I fear that either the quality of my writing has vastly decreased since starting this, or I'm just realizing that I suck at writing. It's been really bothering me lately. As I've seen everyone else's writing improve when you were already excellent before. Thanatos, your writing is as magnificent as always. I worry even more (hence the weeks where I post nothing) that what I write is boring, useless, insignificant, unworthy of this thread. But I always come back, because it's extremely fun. Let the story weave itself. Remember, Michelangelo didn't carve an angel from marble. He carved away the marble hiding the angel.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 1124	Posted - 2013.08.06 08:54:00 - [78] - Quote Alixenus wrote: OOC: I'm back baby! rl is fixed and I'm ready to rock again. All it took was sending my brother beyond the Wall. Now, in reference to post 1308: NOOO! Thanatos! You can't leave us! But good job throwing Void in, I agree with your assessment of the challenge level. There HAS to be some sort of telepathy going now. So Vyzion, in answer to your question about the Dwarf pit fights, I imagined them to bloody, but not intentionally to the death. You want your men to at least reach the battle after all. With copious amounts of coin and Mead being thrown around. I'm not posting anything else about the expedition to the Giant lands yet as Vyzion's already put it 5 days ahead of the events in Diyad. I'm just going to let them sail unevntfully for now. Lastly, I just want to say, like everyone else. I miss Galrick too. OOC: Welcome back! And technically my post occurs "5 days before the Venezzian fleet set sail" so I don't actually specify when it did. Feel free to write about it at any time period you imagined it to be at, won't affect me at all. - The first thing that hit him was the smell. The smell of blood, coin and stale ale. Conyr gagged as he climbed out of the cranny he had been hiding in. Next, the noise. Animalistic cries and primal roars, as if torn from the throats of creatures in absolute agony, dozens of them, reverberating off the creaking, blood-splattered, wooden hull. Conyr winced as the torrent of sound pounded his eardrums, almost like a physical force. The sight that met the young logipriests' eyes was tinged in red. Whether that was because Conyr was stuck in a dark, damp area for so long his vision had gone wonky, or whether it was because there was actually a red mist of blood overhanging the whole scene, Conyr could not tell. Perhaps it was a combination of both. The lighting was poor; a few bare flames flickered along the walls. Conyr had came out right next to a torch, so all he saw was the sillhoeutte of men, arranged in a ring, screaming and jostling, watching the center intently. Conyr walked into the darkness, curiousity compelling his feet. As nimble as a cat, he jumped onto one of the tables which circled the men, and from there onto a pile of crates. From this height he gazed into the center. A pit, as he had imagined. Strangely, though, his imagination had filled the pit with bloodthirsty beserkers, pounding each other into pulp. The fight in the pit, however... Conyr had no other word for it but... graceful. A dwarf and a man, bare-chested, circled each other. The screams of the men around them, the ale being consumed in copious amounts, the coin being palmed, pickpocketed, traded, betted, scammed. The flow of the money was akin to the flow of their bodies in the pit. Weaving around each other they fought with controlled passion and restrained power. Conyr was mesmerised. He realised this was a new fight, too, for eventually the noises of the crowd around him died down: the audience realised this fight was different. Perhaps the others were simply bloodshed. Perhaps the dozens of previous fights were simply disarrayed displays of brutality compared to this elegant dance. Minutes ticked by, but the hold was completely silent. Even the drunkards who had come simply to win money for ale stopped imbibing their intoxicating tonics. The sounds of the two fighters' feet were audible. Thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump... And a blur of movement, a collective gasp, and the fight was over. What happened in that split-second no one would be able to recall correctly, and a hundred stories and rumours would spawn from it, but the end result was clear. The man was pinned to the ground by the dwarf, who was unconscious. But even in unconsciousness his muscles refused to unlock, and the man, weakened as he was, could not get up. Someone spoke up in the crowd. "So... that's a draw?" And the money resumed its flow. Those who had bet on a draw grinned with satisfaction, the rest were glaze-eyed and disappointed. But Conyr sat, invisible in the darkness, gazing at the two warriors, wondering.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 1128	Posted - 2013.08.07 06:23:00 - [79] - Quote OOC: Whatever you do, Alix, know that your character will only truly die if he's forgotten, Alixenus will always live in Conyr's heart.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion 1189	Posted - 2013.08.15 11:40:00 - [80] - Quote OOC: Nation Colors: green, mainly National Animal(what it represents): Jungle Boar. It's moods are as unpredictable and diverse as the jungle itself. Flag Description: Green background, with two golden vines twining around each other to form a circle. Standard Weapons: None. Hand-to-hand combat, I suppose. Armor worn: loincloths National tree: All plantation/vegetation is respected by the logipriest nation. Although we like vines. Values(such as Athens-education and Sparta-military): Harmony and promiscuity (when Fate attempted to seduce Conyr, she knew about the logipriests' active sexual lives. It was meant to be extremely difficult to Conyr, a logipriest on the cusp on manhood, to resist) Notable Laws/Rights (like gay marriage, or women can't vote): Inflicting pain upon other organisms is forbidden. Our own bodies are naturally repulsed by it. Notable Attractions/Landmarks: Dense jungle, with ruins of long lost civilisations scattered throughout. Channel between the mainland and the logipriest island has one bridge spanning it, created by logizombies. Religion/Cultural practices: All newborn infants are taken care of by the whole community. We believe in restoration, and that ultimately, there is good in everyone. _____ Conyr knelt beside the sailor. Conyr lightly pressed the injury with his right palm. Natyli's voice swam into his head, as if she were standing right next to him. "What do you feel, Conyr? Feel it. Your palm isn't yours. It's an extension which joins your body and the patient's. The patient's body is now yours; you are now the patient. What is ailing you? What hurts you?" Tears flooded the logipriest's eyes as the memory of the older logipriestess overwhelmed him. But he didn't lift the palm away. Her training was too good for such weakness. The ballista bolt was blunt, but at such force it had still punctured a hole in the man's abdomen. Conyr felt the gaping hole through the bandages, felt the hole in his own midriff. He winced, but forced it into a grimace and bared his teeth; he was stronger than this. The bolt had miraculously missed the stomach and all vital organs; however it had tore through the wall of the large intestine. If left untreated, infection would be unavoidable. The doctors of the fleet had done the best they could, applying disinfectant and bandaging the wound. They, like Conyr, deduced that no vital organs had been hit. However, the logipriest's fine-tuned sense detected the destroyed intestinal wall which an experienced doctor would have noticed as well. Those who treated this low-ranked sailor would've probably been apprentices. Leaving his hand on the injured area, placed his left palm on the man's forehead. "What do you mean, you can't tell what temperature his forehead is? How hot is it outside? You don't know that either? What kind of logipriest are you!" This time Conyr smiled as Natyli's voice repeated the lesson in his mind. He missed the others. But he shook his head, now was the time to concentrate. Even taking into account his own hand which was cool from the breeze outside, and the stifling heat of the cabin he just entered, the man's forehead was much too high. Feverish. Time would only worsen his condition. "Only when you KNOW it can survive, do you help. DO NOT try save someone who's going to die!" "But why, Ms. Natyli?" "Don't why me, boy! You're not strong enough to challenge death and live!" Luckily, Conyr had been hiding up in the crow's nest of the Galley which the misfired bolt had struck. If he hadn't reached the injured sailor as soon as the doctors treated him, it may have been too late. But now... Conyr closed his eyes, and released the breath he had been holding as he had diagnosed the injury. "Remember, exhale your power. Don't force it out through your hands. We've been gifted with the breath of life, not the fist of foolishness." Golden streams of light, softly glowing in the dim cabin, poured from Conyr's mouth, twined around his arms, and into the body of the sailor. The minutes ticked by, and still Conyr exhaled, as if his lungs had expanded tenfold and could hold enough air for him to swim to the bottom of the ocean and back. The last stream of light was absorbed into the sailor's body, and Conyr rocked back on his heels, breathing heavily. The man was breathing regularly now, and his forehead was already cooler. Conyr stood up and snuck outside and dashed quickly back up to the crow's nest, returning to his observations of the seamen and sailors and captains as they directed the Venezzian fleet onwards. He looked at the flagship in the distance, regal and distinct in its elegance. Then he sneezed. Hmm, that's strange. Is someone talking about me? Must be Brutus. And Conyr smiled for the second time that day, as he recalled his big friend. It seemed like so long ago he had stood on the giant's shoulder... (OOC:almost as long as 60 pages worth of reading)

Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1258	Posted - 2013.09.05 12:11:00 - [81] - Quote An alternate universe... A boy sat at a desk, staring intently at the computer screen, rubbing his temples. A document was open on the screen, and lines of text filled the page. Resting his elbows on the desk and leaning forward to put his face in his hands, the boy sighed. Then he highlighted all the text, deleted it, and resumed typing. Still not bloody satisfied OOC: another way of saying I'm stuck. I might just introduce a side character of my own as Conyr sails along with Alixenus' fleet.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1338	Posted - 2013.09.24 00:22:00 - [82] - Quote OOC: So, I feel like beginning this with an epigram. "I had not thought death had undone so many." - T. S. Eliot, The Waste Land ___ GÇ£So, Vyzion. WhyGÇÖd he stab himself again?GÇ¥ GÇ£I never told you.GÇ¥ Were a bypasser to wander in to this room at this moment, they would see four bodies. Three bodies belonged to logipriests who were still breathing, two of which were speaking to each other. Each of them emitted a soft glow which resisted the enshrouding blackness of the great, mysterious chamber they were in. The last body belonged to a logipriest with an ornate sacrificial dagger stuck in his chest. Interestingly, no blood seeped from the wound. All four were upright, their positions corresponding to the four cardinal points on a compass. GÇ£OkayGÇª so why did Vyzion stab himself?GÇ¥ Natyli sighed. In this meditative state they could last years without sleep nor nourishment, but still the logipriest could not help but feel weary. GÇ£Okay, IGÇÖll tell you. But you must promise to remain silent; I have no energy left to explain every little detail.GÇ¥ GÇ£Deal.GÇ¥ GÇ£It all began one glorious morningGÇªGÇ¥ ~~~~~~ Conyr had never seen a morning as dismal as the one his disbelieving eyes witnessed today. Before they had even landed, the sights and sounds of a great battle had reached the ears of the Venezzian fleet. Almost instantly, all could tell it was no human conflict. Roars of great beasts echoed across the waves, and the shore that the ships were approaching seemed to shake in agony, underlined by dull booms of explosions and pierced by the screeching of agonized, dying creatures. Flashes of what could only be lightning pierced through the thick, gritty fog of war, and the accompanying thunder was as real as the storms they had weathered on the way to this forsaken land. A shuddering alerted Conyr that they had landed. From the crowGÇÖs nest he leapt high into the air and dived into the sea. The murky waters brought with them a soothing silence. Conyr swam underneath the keels of the great boats that had borne him to this destination, underneath the sailors who had taught him (unknowingly) all they could about sailing the seas. GÇ£Young Conyr.GÇ¥ DarilysGÇÖ wrinkled face belied the sharp eyes that stared right into ConyrGÇÖs. GÇ£Information is everything.GÇ¥ GÇ£But itGÇÖs all so boring! I donGÇÖt care about these weird GÇÿnumbersGÇÖ. I want to play vineball!GÇ¥ Conyr, eight years previously, reached DarilysGÇÖ thigh in height, yet towered over the old logipriest in presence. Darilys shook his head and laughed. GÇ£And youGÇÖre the best at vineball, even at such a tender age, because you learned all you could about it. I only hope one day, your interests guide you beyond this childGÇÖs game. YouGÇÖre a smart boy, Conyr, if you put your mind to it.GÇ¥ Conyr grimaced underwater, remembering Darilys and his corruption by the strange book that the dwarf king had had. A pang of longing and sadness arose in his chest as memories - forgotten during the voyage as Conyr taught himself how to sail by observation- surfaced unbidden. Conyr rose out of the water and sighed, expelling the last of his breath before breathing. The sounds of the great battle assaulted his ears once more. GÇ£...HONOUR GOES TO MY ENEMY!" Now, the cries of the Venezzians added to the chaos, and as Conyr swam to the shore, quite a ways away from the mass of ships, he gazed at the grey land, this waste land, and he wondered whether he had enough energy to bring life back to this place.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1338	Posted - 2013.09.24 08:28:00 - [83] - Quote Thanatos 716 wrote: "That explosion you caused, emanated a lot of iyo. A lot of that energy has been absorbed into your body. The radiation, it's poisoning you. That talisman is preventing it form killing you. I'm afraid this won't last very long. I've spoken with my physicians, they say you have no more than 90 days... I'm sorry..." So Alixenus is like Tony Stark! Maybe we'll be able to discover a new material before 90 days which allows our Venezzian warrior-lord to survive the poisoning, as well as man a battle suit of mass destruction. Okay maybe that's a little improbable.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1344	Posted - 2013.09.26 00:40:00 - [84] - Quote Hayde stared, dumbfounded. "...We... we're..." "Yes." Natyli was smiling but her eyes reflected an infinite sadness. Even Layla showed surprise. "So that's why we're here?" Natyli looked at her, then glanced quickly at Vyzion's corpse. "Yes. So, are you content to wait?" "We shall wait," the twins replied. ~~~~~ The pebbly beach felt cold and sharp to Conyr's bare feet, and it was a relief when he reached the soil. However, even this was barren and loose, unfit for farming, grey and dead. The smells of the battle reached Conyr here. The metallic, cloying scent of spilt blood, ten times stronger than in the pit fighting Conyr had watched on the Venezzian fleet made Conyr gag even at such a distance. There was also a strange, almond-flavoured tang to the air. Another memory surfaced, this time with the twins... The storm was unrelenting, rain whipped through the foliage and stung young Conyr's body indifferently. He was in Layla's arms, she only twelve at the time. Hayde was in front, and both were sprinting for their lives back to the village. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning crashed into a tree next to them, and the thunder roared with a fury so primal that Conyr felt as if the world was rendered in two. Layla and Hayde kept running. Later, back in the village, Conyr sat on the floor as Layla and Hayde recounted their adventures into the temple to the others, and his mind was back with the lightning, with its power, and with the curious almond scent. Conyr realised what he had saw on the ships, those flashes of lightning, was actually lightning. A guttural roar suddenly shook the air through the murky smog, and Conyr shivered. What exactly had he landed himself in?
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1344	Posted - 2013.09.26 09:00:00 - [85] - Quote Thanatos 716 wrote: Vyzion wrote: GÇ£It all began one glorious morningGÇªGÇ¥ Vyzion wrote: Hayde stared, dumbfounded. "...We... we're..." Damn you... Vyzion wrote: ...as well as man a battle suit of mass destruction. I wrote: Titans(surprise)- Yet to actually be revealed. Rumor has it that these are large (Hulk sized) suits of golden armor that must be operated by two alkhemists at once. No other weapons, only large iyonic nodes around the armor. They are capable of vast strength... O.O Hmmm. I did indeed make a connection between the titans and Iron Man... but I still don't know where I'm heading with the story told by Natyli. (Hence why I haven't wrote it explicitly). But that's an interesting link...
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1352	Posted - 2013.09.26 11:03:00 - [86] - Quote Alixenus wrote: OOC: Fellow chroniclers, I must warn you of a great danger that is about to befall me. Come Saturday, I shall fall silent for a week, you shall see neither hide nor hair of me. If I do not return after this time, it means I've died of Alcohol poisoning during my first week of University. Requesting permission to assume the forces which have landed on Brutus' homeland will remain fighting for the week you're gone?
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1354	Posted - 2013.09.29 14:46:00 - [87] - Quote Conyr was examining a patch of dead soil, lifeless in his hands, when he heard a strangled cry. "GODDAMNIT WHERE ARE OUR MEDICS!" Conyr slowly stood up. The cry had come from the midst of the battle. The young logipriest didn't want to get involved in such bloodshed but the scream had been so desperate... So hopeless... Gritting his teeth, Conyr turned and watched the Venezzian troops. Their preparations for battle were underway, but they were too slow, far too slow to make it in time. Conyr turned back into the roiling dust cloud which undulated above the battlefield, an ocean of fog. Somewhere in there... Preparing himself for the worst, Conyr began to run. As he ran he wondered what the first sight of war would look like. He didn't have to wonder long. He reached the dead first. Countless bodies, sprawled in indignities positions, lay lifeless and cold. Shivers ran down Conyr's spine, but he kept on running. There was nothing to save here. Or so he thought. What appeared to be a lifeless body under his feet suddenly rose and Conyr fell sideways as it knocked him off balance, bruising his shoulder from the impact. The human, no... The creature, was hideous. Voices drifted towards him now from the human forces, and although Conyr only caught snatches of the shouted conversation, he knew that the 'ferals' had to be these monsters. Even as he realised it, the feral in front of him turned and stared into Conyr's eyes, red, bloodshot eyes into terrified green, and the logipriest felt himself swallow a scream. Back-pedalling quickly, Conyr spun and sprinted away from the feral as rapidly as he could, jumping over dozens of corpses as he did so. None appeared to rise like the first. A low growl behind him made him glance back and he saw the same feral from before chasing him on all fours. It's speed outmatched the logipriest's and before he knew it the feral was upon him. Conyr took the impact to his back and rolled as soon as he hit the ground, turning and picking up a sword from a fallen man nearby. Upon closer inspection, albeit as close as possible given the sword Conyr picked up was a broadsword as tall as himself that Conyr was barely keeping pointed at the monster, it was revealed that the feral was unarmed. Literally. Both it's arms were gone. It growled again. No, not a growl, the logipriest realised. A demented whimper. A whimper of pain. Conyr dropped the sword and walked up to the feral. He placed his hands on the stumps of its arms, and let his power flow- Conyr yelled and jumped back. His whole body was shivering and he couldn't feel his fingers. His heart's pounding drummed in his throat, and he could barely breathe. His mentor's chiding voice sounded in his head, another vital lesson pounded into his skull. Conyr was crying, his cheek stung, and Natyli's upraised arm proudly declared to all who had just slapped him. In her other hand, she held a dead bird. "Never, NEVER, try to revive the dead. Ever, ever, ever. Death is as much a void as the ravine which separates us and the mainland. Pour your power into it, pour your soul into it, pour all our souls, and it will greedily devour them and ask for more. Do you hear me, little Conyr? I teach you how to heal and Vyzion teaches you how to fight so you can protect without regrets. Never let your sorrow overcome your lessons. Never heal what cannot be healed." When he touched the feral, he felt the same emptiness that he had glimpsed when he had tried to revive his pet bird. The never ending darkness of death. How could that be, if it was standing right there... But it wasn't standing. The feral was writing on the floor, it's arms on fire, a green fire. Conyr stared in horror and, strangely, guilt, as the fire engulfed the creature and consumed it. Another growl, behind him, but over the growl was a much more vital cry. "MEDIC!" Conyr turned, ran at the feral and tackled it into the ground. It howled in agony but Conyr was already up and running past it, towards the voice. But the yelping and crackling sounds fading behind him told the logipriest that that green fire was certainly his doing. Sounds became words as Conyr got closer to the frontlines of the battle. Men were screaming in unison, for water, their families, their friends, water, life, help, a hero, praying to God, begging for death or mercy, sometime both. The chorus of the damned. Conyr gulped but focused on finding that one voice... There. Upon a mound consisting of the dead (or so Conyr hoped), a man was falling to the ground, unconscious. Next to him lay a man with a bloodied stump for one arm, moaning helplessly. Two others were fighting ferals in an attempt to reach the men on top of the pile of death. All around them were live humans and giants which were bigger than even Brutus, retreating from the unending forces of the ferals. As he watched, the four men on the mound were being left in between the two armies as their allies fell back from them and the dead-but-alive army approached. Conyr watched, not wanting to interfere, but he realised they couldn't make it in time. He ran up to help, to be met with the point of a sword. "What the hell are you?" The man who held the sword to his face positively roared it. Conyr could see the fury in his eyes. Battle bloodlust. "I'm here to help." Conyr coughed as the smog got into his lungs. "Well you can help me by getting out of my damn way!" He raised his sword and swung- Only to be stopped by the man behind him. "Dravek, he's a child. Look. He probably had some fun with some paint he found. God knows we need a bit of green here. Let's get Frost before we're overrun." The climbed up around Conyr towards the fallen man. Frost, his name was. Easy to remember. The logipriest followed the men. The man named Dravek groaned as picked up a dead feral and threw it off the man with a stump. "Grandis..." -Continuing in next post.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1354	Posted - 2013.09.29 15:08:00 - [88] - Quote OOC: btw, sry Brutus for controlling your characters. I'll try not to touch Frost, though. Luckily he's unconscious. :D Conyr barged in. "Your friend called Frost needed a medic. I'm a medic." The two men turned and both gave him a quick, doubtful glance before turning around. Conyr clenched his fists angrily. Even in such a ridiculous situation he felt like punching them. Luckily, a feral appeared from the fog and Conyr dispensed his frustration into it instead, slamming the thing in its stomach and sending it flying, on fire. But another feral arrived to take its place. And another. And another. Conyr realised the frontline of the feral forces had reached the mound. He yelled over his shoulder. "You guys better hurry..." No reply. Conyr glanced back. The mound was empty. The men were already carrying Frost and Grandis back to their army. They abandoned him. Before Conyr could run to follow, ferals surrounded the mound. Five dived at the logipriest at once, but instantly flailed away, burning green. But more came. Dozens of them threw themselves on the logipriest only to join the fellows in ashes. Conyr slowly fought through them step by step, forcing his way through to the retreating men. It was only when Conyr couldn't feel his arms that he realised something was wrong. His power was being drained. Horrified, he madly struck out at the ferals which were jumping on him in a frenzy now that they felt his raw fear, tackling those in front of him, trying to break out of the deadly clutch. He felt like he was in the middle of an inferno, green fire burned all scrounge him yet he wasn't harmed, though still he couldn't see through the thick wall of ferals now surrounding him. Conyr was knocked over and he fell to the ground. His limbs, to his terror, wouldn't move. But the ferals stopped attacking him. Instead, the backed away slowly, then turned tail and ran back to the main body of their forces. Conyr glanced weakly around to see what scared them off. There, next to his elbow which had been grazed when he fell, stemming from a droplet of his blood, grew a small flower, enlarging as he watched. Conyr smiled, but he was already unconscious.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1355	Posted - 2013.09.29 21:45:00 - [89] - Quote Brutus Pyrus wrote: (Ooc) no problem. As long as Brutus and frost aren't just ridiculously controlled it's fine. But uh... Endrik picked up Grandis. (ooc) " Ah, right, sorry. I'll fix that up. Wait, Grandis is a man right? Not a giant?
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1389	Posted - 2013.10.04 12:20:00 - [90] - Quote Alixenus wrote: OOC: The ever present mist in the room condenses into a vaguely human shape I don't have much time. Listen, all our lives depend on this. One of you needs to take that enormous army of mine points at the map table and fight those ferals in my stead. Every Venezzian save Alixenus is yours for this task...gasp They're coming! Beyond all else, whatever you do don't...and...or else...and quit freaking out whenever I get dramatic OOC! the mist man collapses back down into the fog hovering around shin height Hmm. Anyone else like the sound of Colonel Conyr? :D

Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1394	Posted - 2013.10.06 07:38:00 - [91] - Quote OOC: WELCOME BACK GALRICK! Take your time settling back in, we've slowed the pace a little too. Well, I have, anyway. :D
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1400	Posted - 2013.10.08 10:29:00 - [92] - Quote Conyr woke, and the first thing he saw was a great airship, floating majestically in the sky, seemingly aloft by magic. It's streamlined balloon and the elegant lines of the undercarriage reminded Conyr of Hakyi's kalteraft, and pain clutched at the logipriest's heart as he recalled the terrible events that had fallen upon his friend. The airship was stationary in the morning sky. Although Conyr could only tell it was morning from the faint sunlight shining through the contagious clouds smothering the whole world. Conyr lay there, simply gazing at the ship silently, oblivious to the activity around him, the lull in the storm as either side of the war prepared themselves for round two.
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1429	Posted - 2013.10.12 10:56:00 - [93] - Quote Galrick M'kron wrote: OOC: Hello? Yeah, it's a little quiet. I think it should be no problem to bring your Engineer to... uh, I think Sandy's capital is where everyone is gathering at the moment. To be honest, we're getting lost amongst our battle against the gods. It's too, epic. I mean, if we win, what happens after? I mean, we're picking a fight with GODS! I feel as if there isn't anything else after them, which means I think ADVENTURE TIME is in order. I mean, in the really long, mainstream animes and books like the Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, the final objective is reached after many hardships. I don't think we've faced enough 'hardships'. Battles where we lose, but which we learn from. Fights we pick that is too much for one, but easy when we join forces. Xavier had the right idea, providing conflict between ourselves. I think it's time to flesh out Conyr's selfish side...
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 1565	Posted - 2013.10.26 06:55:00 - [94] - Quote OOC: Exams starting 30th and ending 13th November. I'll extricate myself from the story temporarily. Conyr awoke from a dream of an airship rescuing him from an ocean seething with beasts about to devour him to find that reality wasn't so different. The cart he was riding on was jostling wildly but when the logipriest rolled to the edge and peered at the ground, it was not the rough terrain but the pieces of feral stuck in the wheels of the cart he was on that was causing the journey to be so bouncy. They were moving towards a... forest of tents. Those were the only words Conyr had for what he saw in the distance. It looked homely, but Conyr gazed backwards and saw the sillhouettes of the airships in the skies, the ballista bolts of the Venezzian forces arcing to meet them. As he watched, a well-aimed bolt launched from a water cannon OOC BREAK: I assume Venezzian's fire bolts from the same cannons they use to launch water, but the water is concentrated to propel the bolt. I just though it'd look beautiful amidst the chaos of war, but tell me if this is untrue and I'll fix it. soared gracefully through the air, a trail of water trailing like winking stars behind it, and tore straight into the balloon of an airship. Conyr stared open-mouthed at the craft as the balloon simply collapsed on itself as it lost its integrity, and the whole thing went spiralling into a flaming explosion on the ground, even as the trail of water left by the bolt slowly sparkled down towards the flaming wreck. Conyr frowned. If those airships were destroyed... He glanced around again, and noticed the man pulling the cart was not paying attention. Conyr leapt lightly off the cart and started running back to the airships. His eyes were glued to the skies, watching the airships pirouette clumsily in the skies as the attempted to evade the ballista. He could do so much better... already the young logipriest's mind was on the rudder wheel, the jets... the rudimentary modifications he could make, and no attention was on the danger that could at any moment strike from the sha- A growling, clawing mass hit Conyr from the side and the impact against the ground winded the logipriest. Wheezing, he looked up to see an arm extend into the air, and the rock in the raised hand was already coming down to Conyr's temple when Conyr had what would be his last conscious thought for a while: Of all places to find a girl...
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 2006	Posted - 2013.11.12 14:04:00 - [95] - Quote Galrick M'kron wrote: " I can feel it in my CPU." Hahahaha that made me giggle uncontrollably for a good minute. And I'm back! Without the exams weighing on my consciousness my mind and imagination has been freed from the shackles of distraction! I'm reading every book I own on airships to try capture the next phase of Conyr's chronicles as best I can. And welcome, death lord! I am life boy. It is inevitable that we will dance eventually. Looking forward to the encounter. 80 pages!? "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 2026	Posted - 2013.11.15 01:00:00 - [96] - Quote Consciousness made itself apparent by lancing through Conyr's head with a throb of pain, and the logipriest yelped and sat up, cradling his head in his hands. Blinking tears from his eyes, he slowly looked up. When he saw where he was a shiver ran through his body. It looked exactly like the cave system the crazy dwarf lady had dragged him and Hakyi into... Hakyi... Wind. Rushing, burning sand. Pounding heat. The creaking kalteraft, dancing on the desert, more graceful than the Venezzian military fleet, more regal than the great giants and more mysterious than Alkhemy. Except Conyr was truly alone here. There was no sounds, no crackling fire... Heat, unbearable. Where desert heat was warm this heat was an inferno, and it lashed Conyr with not only heat, but fear. Fear of death, of burning to death, of charred flesh and blackened bones. His head was back in his hands now as the sharp headache lessened to a throb on the left side of his head, but instead of blessed relief the memories just kept coming, as if the blow to his skull had unlocked a chest, and now its contents were pouring out unceasingly. Dog, killed. Vyzion, killed. Logipriests killed. Fate. Destiny. Breathe. Freedom. Brutus, Alixenus. Shattered Venezzian windows, kalter seeds. Blood. Vines. Boats. Zombies, golems, robots. Ferals. Giant. Saviour. Flower. Airships. Like an anchor to the present, Conyr pictured himself standing aboard a sky-worthy airship, captain of its crew, sailing through the clouds like sailors of the sea navigating foggy waters. His breathing calmed, his thoughts stopped swirling in an uncontrollable torrent. He picked himself up. A chilly breeze wrapped around his ankles, and Conyr followed it. Slowly the cool air curled up his legs and was soon pummelling his whole body as he fought against it to the entrance he could now see in the distance. The howling wind assaulting the surprisingly deep cave calmed considerably when Conyr made it to the entrance. Sitting there was the girl who had attacked him. She was still filthy, and was devouring an unrecognisable, small animal. Conyr warily watched her until she finished and turned. Her face was streaked with dirt to the point that her original skin colour was absolutely undeterminable, and her hands and legs definitely weren't any better. Her hair, a tangled mess with things crawling around in it, seemed to be brown but that also could've been a product of apparently not having bathed for her entire lifetime. The logipriest did not mind that she was dirty; he probably was not much better. Besides, the ability to be so in tune with nature was a gift the logipriests held in high regard. Her eyes were dark brown, and her high cheeks contrasted with a little nose, and the defiant slash that was her lips did not open to speak, or growl. "Hello," Conyr began, tentatively. "You aren't going to eat me too, are you?" The girl stared. That's a start, at least. "Where are we? Who are you?" No response. "Do you know where I can find those airships?" She blinked at the word 'airship'. Slowly getting up and throwing the remains of her meal away, she walked away from the cave entrance. "Hey! Where'd you-" Conyr leapt out to follow her and abruptly stopped. The cave opened onto a ledge, a very thin ledge, and the dizzying amount of empty air between Conyr, right at the lip of the ledge, and the plain below made his head swim. He backed into the cave, and glanced around for the girl. A smal rock fell down in front of him, and slowly Conyr shuffled back outside the cave and looked up. The girl was climbing up, and now Conyr realised they were in the middle of a gigantic cliff face. Conyr, refusing to be abandoned, began climbing too. His nimble fingers and toes found purchase in the rock and he relished the physical strain to avert his mind from the pulsating headache. One limb was moving at all times, and he climbed fluidly and it was obvious he had spent his whole life climbing, but he couldn't catch up to the girl. The edge loomed above him and Conyr hoped the girl wouldn't have ran off, but as he pulled himself over she was right there, scrounging for something. Conyr looked around, and found the ground he was standing on seemed to be soft, moist. For as far as Conyr's eyes could see, the strange soft plain he had climbed onto continued forever. The girl stood up, grinning now. She walked over to Conyr and opened her hands, revealing a shrivelled, thick cylindrical white root with sparse green leaves sticking out of the top, and followed by speaking one word to Conyr. "Parsnip." OOC: Sorry Brutus for inventing such a massive geographical feature on your land. Hope you don't mind. "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 2215	Posted - 2013.12.15 12:53:00 - [97] - Quote The mound blended into the rolling landscape so perfectly that Conyr, tired and weary from walking for days on end munching on parsnip and random roots and insects the girl caught, missed it entirely. He only stopped and turned around when he realised he wasn't following the girl anymore. "Where'd you go? Are the airships nearby...?" The logipriests' voice was weak and his throat felt gritty. The girl glanced up from a patch of ground she was inspecting and gave him a curious look, but Conyr sighed angrily and stamped his foot as if she had insulted him. "Look, you've been leading me along this huge plain for all this time, I don't even know if you have half a brain in that thick skull of yours, and I'm starving and dying of thirst out in the middle of nowhere, I should've just let those monsters kill me back down there, because there were the airships, I want to fly those airships, damnit, I want to fly, go back to my island, find everyone, find Vyzion, find all my friends, eat good food, DRINK SOME WATER PERHAPS? SHEESH. Not to mention the weather, oh no, I won't even go there, it beats the unchanging climate here, oh yes. It's, it's marvelous, that's what it is. Amazing. Beautiful. S-s..." The logipriest's rant, nearing incoherency, broke off when he realised the girl wasn't there anymore. Squinting, he slowly walked over to where he saw her last. Where the girl was standing was a small hole, inky black. What's with me and tunnels... Conyr glanced up at the sky for a long moment, capturing the clear blueness, the puffs of wispy cloud and the strange blackness just beyond, as if a blue-tinted window was all that held off the darkness. Then reluctantly he ducked into the hole. His head entered the blackness... and then he was stuck. Confused, Conyr tried to raise his head out, but to no avail. He wriggled around but his head did not move, and when he felt his neck straining to snapping point he relaxed, heart pumping, mind reeling. He raised his arms, placed them against the edge of the hole, and pushed. His head remained where it was. Conyr yelled, but no sound came out, or at least none he could hear. Then he tried to draw breath to yell again... but no air rushed into his lungs. The logipriest froze in horror as he realised the severity of his situation. Then his mind simply abandoned him and he wrenched for all he was worth, pulling, struggling, but his head would not budge, and the burning in his lungs grew into a fire in his chest, a burning fire, an inferno, raging, tearing at his throat... until it receded entirely and Conyr's vision lightened to the clear blue of the sky before fading again into an even darker blackness. =10 minutes prior= "So we're like a...a... single divided being?" "Exactly, Layla." "I knew it!" "Oh shoosh, brother." "Okay okay... I didn't understand a word of what Natyli just said, but I can sort of read your mind... y'know, being twins and all." "Cheater. Humph." "Don't humph me!" Natyli gazed at the two bickering twins and smiled sadly. The darkness around them trembled as the golden light of their tattoos faded. A few minutes later, the three logipriests in the room were plunged into absolute darkness. The twins stopped bickering. "Uh, Natyli, I think-" Hayde began. "-there may be a slight problem." Layla finished. "Yes. Conyr is in trouble, it seems." "So... we have to do what Vyzion did, huh?" "One of us, yes." "And if all of us do it?" Natyli sighed. She understood what the twins were implying. "Two is okay, more may be too much." "So, either us or you, huh?" "Hayde!" "What?" "It's okay, Layla, he's right." Natyli's fingers brushed the knife as she spoke. "Just make sure... when you two go, make sure it is dark. Very, very dark. You may believe this is as dark as the room can get, but there is always darker. Whatever you do, though, do not delay for too long. If this room lights, it means Conyr is dead." There was a long silence, and the three felt rather than saw the room's darkness slowly expanding, suffocating them. "Natyli..." This time Layla began, and Hayde completed her thought with solemnity. "... thank you. We understand." The logipriestess raised the knife above her head, and swiftly plunged it into her breast. As life fled from her body her final thought was of how little it hurt compared to giving birth. The twins' tattoes began to glow softly again, and upon seeing Natyli's body Layla broke into tears. Hayde trembled and held his twin. "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 2217	Posted - 2013.12.15 13:02:00 - [98] - Quote =Back to the present= Golden light poured into the hole, and Conyr breathed. He clenched both his fists around the edge of the hole and wrenched outwards. The ground tore open and Conyr stood up. The girl was there, wide-eyed and dirty, staring at him. He turned to her, eyebrows downturned. He saw himself briefly in her eyes, gold pouring out of his eyes and blindingly from his frantically spiraling tattoos. Then the clear curiosity was replaced by a clouded fear and the reflection disappeared. Conyr raised his hand silently, knowing full well he could and would smite the girl from existence. In possession of some degree of thought this time, he compared this power to the previous one he felt when he was being cooked by the dwarf-lady. That was uncontrolled and extremely powerful. This was more... subtle. Where the previous experience was a torrent, this was a stream, and Conyr reveled in the sheer invulnerability he felt. He spoke, and his voice was terrible to behold, as if thousands of voices spoke at once. "You tried to kill me." His raised palm clenched into a fist, and Conyr prepared to strike. The girl stood still, eyes still fearful. Conyr lunged. But once again he found he could not move. He turned. A man, too old for Conyr to even guess his age, gripped the logipriest's glowing arm in an iron-fisted hold. "Now now, didn't they teach you not to hit ladies where you came from?" The golden light faded at that moment, and Conyr fell to the ground, one arm still upraised, held only by the strength of the man. The strength of that moment disappeared utterly, and Conyr felt even thirstier, hungrier and more tired than before. "Thank you, m'dear. If you hadn't gotten me and just rescued this young man... I wouldn't have had the opportunity to have witnessed that... interesting scene. Now if you would be so kind, could you open up the hatch?" Conyr was picked up as if he was as light as a feather and slung over the man's shoulders. Conyr's face was pressed into the back of the man's rough tunic, which smelt mossy. His nose bumped gently against it as the man walked up the mound the girl had stopped at previously. Then he jumped into another hole, and before Conyr could cry out in fear they both sunk right into the darkness. When Conyr unclenched his tensed body and dared to relax his eyelids, he saw he was in a dimly lit, cozy room with the same mossy smell as the man's clothes. A fire pit in the center gave out the light, and strangely the room was not smoky at all. The girl was sitting on a small rock against a wall, staring at him. At her feet was a makeshift pellet. The man walked over and laid Conyr on it. "When you wake, young logipriest, we shall talk. Now, regain your energy." Sleep stole his consciousness from him before Conyr could even consider how the man knew about logipriests. "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 2244	Posted - 2014.01.10 12:54:00 - [99] - Quote Around the time Vicar Ur is brought back from the dead, to lead the ranks of undead... Conyr groaned. His head felt like a swollen, plump fruit, ready to burst at any moment. If his skin wasn't green, the blood forced by gravity to his face would've rendered it bright red. Between the blows he feebly tried to fend off from a vicious girl with tangled brown hair whilst suspended upside-down by two impossibly strong hands which gripped his ankles, the poor logipriest recalled how he had ended up in this humiliating situation. ________________ A few days after Conyr fell into a hole (post found on page 84) Conyr stared into the fire, watching drops of fat drip into it only to sizzle and pop in the blaze, vaporised into aromatic fumes. Vyzion stood by the makeshift spit, turning the small jungle boar slowly over it. The little logipriest's mouth salivated at the delicious smell of roasting meat, something he had never had before. "Vyzion?" "Yes, boy?" "Can I eat that?" Instead of responding, Vyzion sliced off a strip of meat from the flank of the boar, and held it up for inspection. "Looks ready." Conyr practically pounced at it, but Vyzion jerked his arm up, leaving the little logipriest scrabbling at his thighs, whining. Vyzion laughed. "So, you want meat?" "Yes yes yes!" "...Good." A mysterious glint shone in Vyzion's eye, but he crouched and handed the now warm strip to the boy. "Enjoy it." The scene that met Conyr when he awoke from his slumber was quite similar to the one he was dreaming of. A crackling fire, meat suspended above it, someone turning the meat on a spit. Except instead of a dense, breezy jungle at night, they were in a small, smoky cave, and the fire seemed to orchestrate the movements of the shadows as they danced against the rough walls. "What's your name?" Conyr yelped and scrabbled backwards. The man who was turning the spit was suddenly face to face with him. The light of the fire cast the man's features in an eerie half-visible light, and Conyr thought he saw something vaguely familiar about him... "I asked for your name, boy." "Conyr." "Good, Conyr. Now, why have you come here?" The answer sprang to mind instantly, even though he had just awoken. "Airships." Silence followed his answer, then the man simply replied with: "Sky." Conyr blinked. The man didn't. They continued staring at each other this way for a long moment, the younger blinking occasionally, the older unflinching even in his gaze. Then the man spoke again. "You're serious, aren't you?" "Yes." "Okay, let me ask you another question. What do you want to do?" A slight hesitation, then: "Fly an airship." The man showed no such hesitation as he picked up the slight logipriest, and threw him across the cave. Conyr slammed into the solid wall and crumbled, winded. A shadow fell over him as the logipriest struggled onto all fours. "What do you want to do?" "FLY AN AIRSHIP!" A blur entered Conyr's vision, and he saw the dirty, unlaced boot embedded in his gut a second before he registered the searing pain in his abdomen. So light was the logipriest and such was the force of the kick that Conyr actually rose to the man's eye level, and saw his own pained expression in the reflection of the eyes of the other. This time Conyr did not unclench his body from the instinctive, tight coiled position he found himself in. The man spoke in softly, but his tone was hard. "That was a cannonball, puncturing your body." "This," he muttured as he grabbed a handful of the logipriest's hair and flung him bodily, again, across the room, "is a typhoon throwing you off your ship." The man strode over to the logipriest once more, his shadow caressing the logipriest almost as if in apology before Conyr's arms were lifted above his head and he was pulled to his feet. Then Conyr watched helplessly as the man stretched his arms out to the sides, forcing Conyr's shorter ones to stretch painfully, until the pair were chest-to-chest, in a strange dance of one-sided agony. "You wish to command a ship? My arms control the airship's rudder. Control me." Conyr struggled to move the man's arms. An inch, please, just an inch is all I w- Conyr's struggle was perhaps mercifully cut short as the man raised one arm and lowered the other, bringing both around until Conyr was upside down, then let the logipriest's body fall away from his own. Conyr forsaw the outcome: both his arms were going to break. But the man released his grip at the last moment and Conyr fell on his back, arms still outstretched, sobbing. "What. Do. You. Want?" Conyr barely registered the voice, such was the ringing in his ears. "Food... and water. Please." Conyr could not see it, but the man grinned. "Well, why didn't you say so sooner? Roe, come in, I'm finished. Let's have some dinner." Cool liquid poured into Conyr's mouth, and Conyr gazed to the side to see the same girl he had been following across the giant plain holding a small rough-hewn cup to his mouth. He drank gratefully. Then the man loomed over him again, and brought his fist down on Conyr's face. The logipriest flinched and clenched his eyes, but no pain came. Then a warm, chewy, absolutely delicious substance was shoved into his mouth. Conyr chewed, swallowed and muttered a thanks without opening his eyes. "No problem," the man chuckled. "You can call me Dryde, and you've already met Roe." "What do you call the stuff you just made me eat?" A laugh. "Oh, that? I like to call it bacon. If you want more, your training begins tomorrow." _________________ Back to the present So that's how I ended up here. OOC: HAPPY NEW YEAR ALL! Bit late, I know, but I was caught up in the festivities and alas, so was poor Conyr. "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 2257	Posted - 2014.02.07 00:38:00 - [100] - Quote Apologies all, been trying to save an old (2009-2012) project on another forum that's currently on the doorstep of death at the moment. If the big wigs are willing to revive it, it'll be glorious. The forum, by the way (and I'm sure most of you will be interested), is found at http://www.legendfire.com/ Writing forum. It's absolutely amazing. My display name is Mhizzing, I have only a few posts on it even though I joined ages ago, the majority of my threads were in the world-building project I just mentioned which disappeared (hence me heading off to try save it), it's probably on the wiki (the project was so insane we needed a wiki), if I can get the right people to spark it back to life you guys are all invited. Feel free to trawl through the archives and gazillions of words that make up the main forum in the mean time. It'll probably give you a bajillion ideas for our thread here too. "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."

Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion The Umbra Combine 2257	Posted - 2014.02.07 12:13:00 - [101] - Quote http://ashenmyth.wikispaces.com/ Read, my friends. READ! It is much more detailed than ours but one drawback is that the more complex the world becomes, the more rules we as writers must follow when adding new content/modifying current content. If you by any chance wish to join this project, sign up on Wikispaces and then for membership on the Ashenmyth wiki. Say you're a buddy of Mhizzing, and they should be happy to allow you to begin editing/adding content. IMPORTANT: Tags are very important in organising the wiki, and there is one in particular I must inform you of (if you wish to participate in the project. Not forcing anyone.): the "Idea Forge" tag MUST be applied to all new content you wish to introduce to the world until it is debated and discussed and changed enough for the admin (Bird) to accept it into the canon. Oh, and Conyr's training has been very rigorous... ... ... Okay I'm not just going to leave it at that. Post coming SOON (no Gäó) "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion Final Resolution. 2288	Posted - 2014.06.18 14:03:00 - [102] - Quote Present Day Standing atop his airship, gazing down at Dryde's dead body, Conyr trembled. The wind rose, howling, and strained against the sails, pulling the logipriest up and away. Finally, Conyr turned away and gazed towards the boundless sky, alone but now far from the helpless young boy he used to be, never to set foot upon the giant plateau ever again. Later, Conyr would vividly relive his time on the plateau in both his dreams and nightmares, and if anyone asked him about it, his eyes would darken and he would mumble to himself, strangely, about dragons. Previously... -:- Part One: Hatchling -:- A week into Conyr's training "Punch me." Dryde stood with his knees bent and legs wide apart, hands fists by his sides. The man's torso was covered in blood. Conyr stood panting before the man, knuckles bleeding. The cave they were in was bathed in flickering light from torches suspended around its sides. Dark tunnels led off in different directions, but one was had faint light entering from it; the exit. "I... I can't." "Heal yourself." Conyr slowed his breathing and willed his heart to calm. Dryde grinned. "Good, now you just have to do that without closing your eyes, lest your enemies use your blindness to inflict damage you can't heal." Annoyed, the logipriest opened his eyes and wiped the blood off his fists, observing the taut green skin underneath. Then he himself crouched, pulled his fist back, and threw himself into another punch. It felt like he was striking the solid wall of the cave. His freshly healed skin split, and more of his blood spattered onto Dryde's chest. Conyr stifled a yell, and turned away to prepare another attempt, letting out his frustration with a long exhalation. "I notice you're learning to control your girly screams." Conyr spun and launched his shoulder into Dryde, and both fell surprised when logipriest finally moved the bigger man. Conyr rolled off quickly and rose again, flowing smoothly into crouched stance. Dryde on the other hand just laughed on the ground. "But not the emotion behind those screams." For the past week Dryde had subjected Conyr to a gruelling physical regime, spending nearly half a day or even longer simply sparring. Initially Dryde had simply sat back and taught him how to move; only recently had he begun getting involved himself. Conyr's endurance was being pushed to the limits, even with his natural regenerative powers. Roe walked in now, and wrinkled her nose at the metallic tang of blood that suffused the stuffy air of the cave. She ducked into a tunnel and promptly returned with two buckets of water, and these she slammed down by Conyr and Dryde before turning her back on them. The two males groaned, and picked up the buckets, stretching as they exited through the light tunnel and doused themselves. Then they returned, stinking less like sweat and blood, and the three sat in a triangle. Dryde towered over the other two, back erect, still emanating strength as prepared the lesson for the second half of the day. "We aren't doing letters today, Roe. We tussled for a bit longer today so I just want to use the remaining time to have a chat with the boy." The girl nodded and walked through to her room. Conyr blinked at the change of routine. For the past week he had been reading and writing with Roe, and learning about random topics that Dryde seemed to select at whim. The former was something Dryde insisted he had to do despite displaying adequate literary skills from his childhood. Vyzion was the one to initially establish such education in the tribes. Such a thought made Conyr's heart pang with longing for home. "So, kid. It's been a week now of me pushing you to your physical limits. Any questions?" "You told me you would teach me how to fly..." "And you believe this combat training helps?" "It isn't?" Thwack. "Don't answer my questions with questions." "You asked me to ask questions!" Thwack. "Don't be insolent, boy." Conyr cursed as he rubbed his head. Dryde grinned. "Well, there is a purpose." He stood up and, towering over the sitting logipriest, and began pacing around Conyr in a small circle. Suddenly he fired up. "How do I teach YOU, a mere boy, how to fly some of the most complex craft in this world?" Conyr began to retort but was cut off as Dryde spoke again. "How do I instill the knowledge of the skies, how the winds affect you, how the winds affect each other, how to use the clouds to hide yourself, ride storms with relative ease, and survive tempests?" "How do I give you the skills necessary to keep yourself alive in those conditions, to know the craft inside and out, to navigate it to safety, to know when it needs to be taken to safety?" "How can I trust you to care for the craft like it's your own kin?" Dryde stopped circling and stopped in front of Conyr once more. "How can I do all that in a few weeks?" Conyr broke in. "Why do we only have a few weeks?" Dryde's face was grim. "I sense it, boy. Times are changing fast." "How do you even know all of this, you live in a cave." Conyr braced himself for the blow but none came. He stole a glance up at his mentor. Dryde was gazing up at the rough ceiling, hands folded, a strange glint in his eye. "You'll figure it out. Lets have some dinner, and I'm expecting answers to those questions eventually, boy." "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion Final Resolution. 2288	Posted - 2014.06.18 14:08:00 - [103] - Quote -:- Part Two: The Wingless Dragons -:- 10 days into Conyr's training "What are we doing?" "You're about to find out." "How to fly?" Thwack. "No. Stop interrupting. Tonight we're doing history." Dryde held up the leatherbound book from which he was attempting to read from; the only book in his abode. Roe had only begun to learn her letters when she found Conyr and led him to this strange burrow (on top of the giant plateau, in a strange land, with war being waged below), but she had learnt fast. She was sitting next to Dryde, reading silently as logipriest and man argued, whilst Conyr sat in front of him. Presently, Conyr laid back on the bare floor, worn smooth by the last 10 days of intense sparring. They had just had dinner, and usually this time was the only time Dryde wasn't physically or mentally challenging Conyr. Dryde scowled and turned back to the book. "Anyway. Dragons are extremely d-" yes, boy?" "Dragons aren't history, they're myths." A sigh, a 'thwack!' and a yelp. "As I was saying: "dragons are extremely dangerous mythical creatures, depicted as fire-breathing, scaly creatures with the ability to fly on huge leathery wings." Dryde paused. "This isn't about mythical creatures, however." Conyr opened his mouth and Dryde kicked his shins. The logipriest winced and shut up. "Rather, this is an account of a handful of people who, through their extraordinary airborne feats and even sometimes their personal qualities, have come to be known as "The Wingless Dragons". Dryde paused again and surveyed his pupils. Roe was following along. Conyr was now attempting to remain nonchalant, but his whole body was taut and anyone could see he was holding his breath; already the boy was riveted. We may make some progress yet, thought Dryde wryly. "A brief introduction. The Wingless Dragons were men or women, either or neither, of any and all races, who in their golden age, ruled every inch of Dustia's skies. It begins with the burning desire to take wing, so strong it enflamed even those around them. Restraining, attempting to prevent them from rising to their rightful domain, has been attempted. Corresponding to these attempts are accounts of utter destruction and misery for the captors. They would rather die than be restricted from what they believed was their birthright. Many did. Those that conquered the obstacles between them and the sky became legends; wingless dragons. In the skies, it is said that they had no equal. Whilst many did not know about each other and indeed lived lives without seeing one another (the skies are vast), they were united by the common goal to rule the winds. The craft they piloted were their wings, some as light and graceful as a curving beam of sunlight, some designed as floating fortresses, and countless designs in between. Their reign came to an end shortly before my lifetime. It is said after a while, seeking ultimate dominance, they began fighting each other. It is said they met their match when some chartered skies that no mortal was ever meant to chart. Whatever the case, the wingless dragons simply vanished in a matter of days." Conyr stared. The ache in his heart burned just as Dryde described it. I could be one of them. The logipriest's head reeled with grand schemes of adventure and exploration. Dryde continued reading. "The stories of each individual can be found in this book. I have attempted to record their lives with as much accuracy as possible, but as is such with these undertakings I cannot guarantee truth throughout. However, I recommend reading through these tales nevertheless. Whilst most if not all of the Wingless Dragons have died as of writing this, suffice it to say that those affected by their actions will, like a burn inflicted by dragon-fire, always remember it. I have written this because I believe it is important to the future generations to understand how and why." He shut the tome and gazed at the boy. "I hope you're still thinking about those questions I asked you a few days ago, boy." Then he said something very strange. "Because the end fast approaches." Roe blinked and looked up, and Conyr frowned. Their tutor laughed. "Sleep, that is. The end of all thought." Roe and Conyr exchanged glances. Both shrugged and headed to their respective rooms. They walked side-by-side for a moment, silently; 10 days in the same cave being tutored by this strange man meant they were comfortable in each others' presence, but they didn't talk much. Roe usually would head out onto the plateau whilst the males were sparring in the first half of the day, and Dryde expected full attention when he taught whatever he felt like in the second. Conyr, however, had a burning question about that book. "Hey, Roe." They both stopped, and she turned to him, eyebrows raised. Conyr continued. "Did you see who wrote that book?" Roe frowned for a moment, then shook her head. Conyr sighed. "Darn." They continued on. "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion Final Resolution. 2288	Posted - 2014.06.18 14:10:00 - [104] - Quote OOC: Hi guys. "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion Final Resolution. 2288	Posted - 2014.06.20 12:36:00 - [105] - Quote -:- Part Three: Winged -:- The 11th day Conyr and Roe walked side by side, a few paces behind Dryde. The plateau stretched grey and empty to the horizon, and behind them it was the same. The sky was a dark blue, with small wisps of cloud marring its uniformity. A light breeze blew against them. "Do you know where he's taking us?" Roe shrugged at Conyr's question just as Dryde stopped. Conyr looked around but the landscape looked exactly the same as it was. Dryde, however, walked forward with both hands in front of him, until it looked like he was pressing against thin air. Then he balled his hands into fists, stepped back, and pulled back hard. Wooosh. It appeared as if the sky rippled away in his hands, and in its place was... an airship. Conyr was speechless. Roe was, despite having no interest in airships, still impressed. A thin streamlined bow broadening at the end where a cabin rose, with a staircase leading to the stern deck. Two dusty portholes lined the lower hull, and connected to sides of the stern deck was a segmented sail, fin-like. The fore deck seemed to be under some sort of folded canopy, which created a sort of tunnel. Thin lines ran from this canopy to the sides of the ship, and one to the protruding spear-like tip of the bow. It was quite small, 20 meters in length, and from the keel to the stern deck, its height was about 6 meters. The logipriest thought it was beautiful. Conyr was all but ready to leap on and take off, but Dryde turned and as soon as the two made eye contact, the logipriest held himself back. However, holding himself back was a mental struggle in itself, and during that internal clash Roe revealed the source of her interest. "Dryde, what did you pull off the ship?" The man showed her his open palms, and answered: "I pulled off your expectations." Roe frowned, and turned to Conyr. Veins were pulsing now in his forehead, such was the war inside of him of the pride not to let Dryde have the satisfaction of seeing him run to the airship like a child to a new toy, and the knowledge that he wouldn't be able to fly it anyway, against his raw yearning. Presently Conyr conquered himself, and gasped. He bent over and rested his hands on his knees, cheeks flushed a dark green from his exertions. Roe couldn't help herself and burst out laughing. The logipriest stood up straight and glared at her, but even then she couldn't stifle her giggles completely. Dryde smiled, evidently he too had been looking forward to the boy's reaction. "Alright, Captain," he began, slightly mockingly. Conyr turned his scowl on him. "Time to learn how to fly her." (OOC: I did some sketches if you want to have a look :P. My drawing isn't the best but hopefully it helps you imagine what I've described. And yes Brutus, I'm still at the land of the giants.) "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion Final Resolution. 2289	Posted - 2014.06.22 13:44:00 - [106] - Quote Brutus Pyrus wrote: The giant had been slain. Brutus, was gone. And with him, the flame. [OOC] BRUTUS? DON'T DO THIS TO ME, BRUTUS. BRUTUS, DAMNIT NO! -curls up and cries- [OOC] -:- Part Four: Taking Wing -:- 16 days into Conyr's training It was dawn, and Conyr stood on the stern deck of the airship with Dryde, staring at the place where a normal ship would have the captain's wheel. Not so with this ship. In it's place, on a pedestal that rose to about stomach height, rested a softly glowing stone. It was a rough thing, and if not for the unnatural pulsing light it emitted, Conyr would've thought it had just been a rock the size of a head. But emit strange light it did. The glow seemed weak but could still be seen as the sun rose and splashed orange over the airship. Conyr looked out from where he stood, over the bow and at the plateau. The sun had not touched its vast flatness yet, and the ground seemed to be a pale blue. Conyr imagined the dunes moving, swelling and crashing. He imagined the air to possess a salty tang. The stone began to glow brighter, and the airship shivered ever so slightly. Then suddenly his heart panged. Conyr gasped as tears leapt to his eyes, and the stone dulled to its original state. For a moment the logipriest stood, fists clenched tight by his sides, breathing hard. Something happened, just now. Something big. He raised a hand to massage his chest, trying to place the feeling. Then he felt a more familiar pain to his head. He winced and turned. Dryde was glaring at him. "You almost had it, boy! Then you go and start daydreaming." "I wasn't daydreaming I-" "I don't care. You lose concentration like that when you're actually flying and you'll send you and whatever god-forsaken crew members you manage to acquire to your deaths." "Yeah, well I hope my crew members ARE god-forsaken! The gods have done nothing for me!" Dryde grimaced. "That's enough. Repeat to me how the stone works." Since the airship was beheld to Conyr five days ago, Dryde had been teaching Conyr the mysteries of the stone that was embedded on the poop deck, and how it was essentially the key to getting the craft in the air. Conyr recited the key points now. "This stone is infused with magicks that make it obedient. The ship's hull is reinforced with the same material. Therefore the ship assumes it is in an environment imagined by its master." "Good enough. And who is its master?" "Whoever wants the ship the most?" "No. Remember this, even if you-" -thwack- "LISTEN! This is important. Even if you have an incredibly strong resolve to control the ship, that's not enough. You DON'T want to control the ship, you want to envisage the world around the ship. And you'll need an equally strong resolve for that. That's what the stone responds to." Conyr frowned, but nodded. Dryde sighed. "Look, why is the ship not moving right now?" Conyr repeated what Dryde had told him dozens of times over the last few days. "Because you believe the ground is the ground more than I believe the ground is an ocean." Roe popped up from the stairs leading up to the poop deck carrying a tray of food. She muttered, almost to herself, as she set the tray down: "Here's lunch. It sounds like you two are going crazy from hunger." She walked back down. Dryde laughed as he and Conyr picked up bowls of soup and some dark brown, almost black bread. "As crazy as you sound, you're right." For a moment they ate in silence. Conyr was still distracted by the strange twang he felt earlier, which now settled into a strange hollowness in his stomach. Even the food, simple but tasty nevertheless, didn't quash it. However, he forced his thoughts back to the recent days. It wasn't a question of his will, rather of his concentration. He had to maintain focus, but in a way that didn't require all his attention. He needed a part of him to be always thinking about the airship. "Dryde?" "Mmm?" "Why is this airship here?" The man finished his food, put the bowl back on the tray and stood up. Then he walked over to the railing on the side of the deck, and looked out. "I found it here when I found myself here. Although..." He paused. "Although...?" Conyr ventured. "Although I may know why it's here. You might too. Look around us, at the solid land. Yet-" "Yet it's easy to see as an ocean," the logipriest finished. "Exactly. A massive, frozen ocean." Conyr blinked. A massive, frozen ocean. His heart pounded and he smiled. It's not that I have to turn land into water, he thought. I simply need to unfreeze the ocean. He closed his eyes, and imagined the ship resting on a plain of ice. Then he felt the warmth of the sun, now fully in the sky, pressing against his skin, against the ice around him, warming, melting... And the ship dropped right into the ground until half the hull was submerged. Conyr opened his eyes and slowly stood up. Then his legs shook and he fell. There, on the poop deck of his airship, on all fours, Conyr felt the ship bobbing in the ocean of his own creation. He exclaimed excitedly as he shakily stood up on the unstable deck. "Dryde... Dryde I did it!" He looked at his mentor. Dryde was standing on the railing, and presently he leapt off. As his feet hit the ground, Conyr half-expected him to sink right into the 'ocean'. Instead, he landed on a solid surface with both feet. Conyr's concentration wavered, then was shattered, and the boat stopped rocking. He stood, dumbfounded, as Dryde walked up to the ship and patted the hull. "You best figure out how to do that again, boy. Or you're going to have to leave your poor ship half-stuck in the ground." "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion Final Resolution. 2290	Posted - 2014.06.24 03:03:00 - [107] - Quote OOC: Brutus, you've been reading Game of Thrones, haven't you. -shudder- Now you're making me consider possibilities of Conyr's death. Damnit, George R.R. Martin. "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion Final Resolution. 2305	Posted - 2014.09.03 12:48:00 - [108] - Quote To those who remain: I've taken the posts off the forum and have begun to turn them into a Word document, removing all the forum formatting from the raw copy-paste. Here it is: http://1drv.ms/1uzJbty It is view-only to prevent trolls from deleting things. Things I have been doing: 1. Remove the character post info (corp, alliance, likes), remove post links (like post, quote post, etc.) 2. Add character name back into the post 3. Remove posts in the thread that have nothing to do with the story Things I will do after I finish this stuff 3. Tidy posts (small typos and such. Will NOT change style of writing.) And finally (this is where I will need to consult with you guys): 5. Will start removing/editing quotes to make them flow more with the story. (ie instead of me quoting Brutus' post with Conyr's response, it will become something like Conyr watched as Brutus blablabla... then his response.) 6. Removing posts that are completely OOC. Will leave them now as they do explain things. This doesn't count lore posts, I will leave those. If you guys want to help with the initial editing (I can probably work through the first 3 steps at a rate of 100 posts a day), drop me a Steam message at username Mhizzing. I've already added Sandy and Nexhawk I think. If you don't have Steam, GET IT just for this! :D I can give you guys an editable link through that. Anyway, once I'm done with this I'd like you guys' permission to post it only my blog, just for curious readers. And after that, well, we can continue writing here, through the Word doc, or my blog will become our blog and we can post there! ^_^ Oh and hi. "When nothing is going your way, go out of your way to do nothing."
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion Final Resolution. 2310	Posted - 2014.09.06 23:41:00 - [109] - Quote Thanatos 716 wrote: OOC: And just when I thought this thread was dead, Vyzion saves the day. I'll add you right now(Steam Username: Patterbits). Although I disagreed with Sandromin for a while, it's becoming more and more clear. Iff we want this to continue, it has to transcend the Locker Room(which is already a shell of its former self). I was originally going to write a long sappy speech here, but I think everyone gets how special this is. Edit: I don't think that's the right document. LOL. So it isn't. Fixed! > Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
Vyzion Eyri The Southern Legion Final Resolution. 2355	Posted - 2014.09.10 12:17:00 - [110] - Quote Sandromin Hes wrote: I love all this narrative. The short story is coming together very well Had to quote this too... short story! How far we've come... an average book has around 64k words and we have about 400k. :D > Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?

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