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Dear my Queen Freya Lo,
Oh how your power has grown,
Over us people.
Dear My Queen Freya Lo,
Regalia, Regalia is in woe,
We fear for what comes.
Ailors! Heretics! Everyone!
Fight! Fight for your homes and lives!
Dear Our Queen Freya Lo.
We will win this war,
Your deathlings don't belong with us,
They will die once more.
Dear My Queen Freya Lo,
Oh how your power has grown,
Over us people.
Dear My Queen Freya Lo,
Prepare your men and women,
For a second death.
The rebels are near,
Coming to take their city,
Good luck, dead Queen Lo.
Voices echoed through the darkness as he walked. There was a crunch of snow and slowly light came back to him, filling his view.
He was emerging from a tunnel, a passageway and blinked at the sudden blinded light. Down the stairs he could see a crowd, all facing forward to…
No! He could warn them, save them, get them to safety! His feet felt on fire as he pumped his way down the staircase as the light slowly faded away.
He reached the crowd and put his hand on the first shoulder only to find it was now a tree, black and bridle that half bit at his vulnerable fingers. He started, pulling away and slowly turned around as he heard crackles in the snow, turning around to see two great visages...his family…
But the darkness of the...
Alak’aer groaned as he sank into the soft cushions of a couch in the Heiwynn Apothecary, sunbeams throwing their dazzling shadows across the room. He rested for a second, meditating, silently thanking Estel that he was alive. After a moment, he reached up and touched his face, feeling for the second gash he had received in a week. Silently, he went to the counter and stepped behind it, wearily taking a cup of water and setting it to boil. He then gathered Ruby Flower and some Opium and laid it out to make a medicine.
Once the water was done, and the drink made, he sat back down and contemplated what to do next. The sewer, he knew, was perpetually on the brink of rioting and chaos. Sometimes, it was all he could do to keep his own...
To late did Cedric realize that he had thrown the grenade too hard. The lapis grenade went spinning right into the hearth were a blazing fire had just been brought to life. It laid there for less than a second and then the grenade exploded sending blue dust puffing out from the fire. Unfortunately the majority of the lapis dust had been incinerated by the fire, but fortunately Jonny was sitting right by the fire, and got a mouthful of the dust. Jonny toppled out of his chair violently coughing. The fire suddenly leapt higher in the hearth as it began to feed off of the lapis dust. In an instant the innkeeper was yelling, his wife and he ran into the kitchen, while the man that Cedric had seen at dinner pulled a dagger from a sheath in...
The freezing wind blew viciously throughout the craggy lands of Ellador. The great pines were bent by the wind’s ferocity, and weighed down by the snow from the blizzard. All signs of life were absent from the cold bleary plains of Ellador. The snow hares had long ago retreated to the warmth of their burrows huddled together to keep the chill out. In the distance a dire wolf howled sullenly, but the sound was soon lost in the whirlwinds of the blizzard. To the outside world Ellador was a graveyard of ice, rock, and snow. All except for a dwarven stronghold, that towered high into the frozen moonless night. The stronghold was built purely of stone and brick, save for the thick spruce doors which stood guard against the howling force of...
“Did’nt you herd? They are no more Weetch Hun’ ters anymore.” Cedric Claivor was no longer offended when he was spoken to in this way. Once, people would trip over there overlarge feet to bring him information, but now he is just given odd looks in his boiled leather, dyed a dark green. He even had to remove the cape that he had once so proudly wore, because it had been stained by so many rotten fruits thrown at him. The bartender was looking at Cedric as quizzically as his simple face could manage, as if he expected Cedric to suddenly turn into a poetry writing dragon at any moment. “Are ye gonna buy somethin? If not then git!” Cedric turned on the spot doing his best to hide his fury behind the usual stony expression. On his way out...
It was a bleak and dreary day, one that seemed to go on and on and on for Juliette. The girl sat perched in on the couch, staring out the window at the constant falling rain of Regalia, one that never seemed to end and simply had momentary pauses for a breath. She held a book in her hands, one of about animals that she'd never see till she was older as they lived far off in distance lands such as in Farah'deen or Fendarfelle. She sighed and wrapped her blanket around her tighter, one she had dragged off her bed and to the couch. No one else was home and she didn't feel like wandering around in the rain today, it was depressing and she wished to feel the hot air of her Ithanian home again and not the cool, wet air that surrounded the...
Blood. It was the only thing Cristina could rely on to make sure she could go on herself. So she drank. She drank until it hurt to swallow, and even then, she tried to down ale. Her tears burnt her eyes like a forger's fresh sword. She stood in the corner of the empty house, her stuff wrapped up, never intending to leave the cloth, until she was back home.
It wasn't her fault. It surely was of her lover's. "She lied... I have to test her... no.... yes..." She rambled to herself, dragging the corpse in the yet to be set firepit. She couldn't help herself, and yelled out in a pure, hot, rage. She tossed her dress that was to soon be for someone wedding'. "Why could she not be trusting twords me! This is her fault!" She yelled at the...
Just a short lil thing I did on Tes' experience of the Loyalist attack on Regalia. Yeah. The one where he gets his leg and hand blown off.
NOTE! This is not for the faint of heart. It's creepy. Just saying.
@Caelamus @VintageMystic @Eccetra @Scriihbe @Inferno_Breaker and @MolagBallin are all the people that might be interested from an IC standpoint
@SpamanoTomato @Chaay @Erizu and @Henck might be interested as well idk
Hope you enjoyed. Have a nice day <3
Helleu! Just decided that I should write down Sophias experience of going home after Lo-ts of things happend. (Badum tss). Now this was done on my phone. Soooo yeah. X
Finally. Finally going home. New clothes, a propper bath.. tea? These were only a few things that popped in her mind whilst she walked to the city. The group was big and showed a lot of diversity. Elderly, children, weak, rich, poor... Yet not many people who were still as fit as herself. Well it was the best option. She was bad with fighting.. and that is what they needed? Right? She could't have been of any help. Yes, tgat's right. She did what-.
Her train if thought stopped as a small boy squeezed in her hand. She looked down, passed her ruined dress and the small...
Juliette sat in her empty room upon a neat bed with her legs crossed beneath her long skirt and hair loose for once.
She scowled, glaring at the door of the room, how dreadful and disappointing life was sometimes?
The girl stood and paced the room, her bare feet making only the quietest of shuffles as she crossed the room. Back and forth, back and forth, pondering how wrong this all felt.
Charlotte and Jamie were over. She couldn't understand why.. All she had got so far was that Charlotte was being a whiny, spiteful child towards her beloved cousin. Jamie had been with her all through out Rothburg, he had been nearly crushed to death by a marked, and he had been a commander under Lord Commander Coen. How dare Charlotte get mad at...
The following is Veridan's experience during the retaking of Regalia, it's also the very first story I've written on Veridan's psyche. While what happens in Veri's head wouldn't be known, I hope this provides as an interesting story. The events leading up to that are quite able to be known, however.
The sounds of battle and chaos rang out all around Veridan, the sight of ruined and bloodied streets seemed all too familiar. Despite the gruesome scene, he pressed on, confident that they would win the day as he rushed through the district. It was this confidence that had always seen him through battles, just as it would this one. However, confidence was never enough in these situations, it was so much more, and this required everything...
I saw it. I saw it before my very eyes. I saw it all happen. --.. This isn’t one of my nightmares anymore. This is real. This has happened.
It was all too vivid of a memory. Even though Cecile knew perfectly well that no memories could remain completely intact, she couldn’t help but allow her feelings to overtake her rational sense of thinking. In her lone cell, she stared out at the bleak view of the near-empty street in front of her. Thoughts flooded her mind like a tidal wave of regret and despair. She should have saved her. She could have saved her.
Why didn’t she save her?
Slowly sinking against the wall of the cell like wax melting from the heat of a flame, the Durant was alone with her thoughts for longer than she would have...
Far up high
Hear the wise men cry
About the Spirit
That protects Regalia
It made a shield
One that kept out the dead
Yet still they crossed our walls
The Queen did come
With her head held high
Her dead eyes casted upon our lives
Her lies were many
Her truths were few
And The Queen was hated
By all but a few
Her reign wasn't long
For men did gather
Across the countryside
Through the meadows
Far in Kronau
And even farther at Rothburg
Everyone fought and trained
For a similar goal
For similar want
Regalia, Regalia
Lift up your head
Regalia, Regalia
The Queen is dead
A dagger it was
That drove out her spirit
A dagger it was
Drove in by her Daughter
The Kades, The Coens
Santorski and Bigge
The Blacks, The Laines
Sinclair and Heinrich
All...
Freedom from consciousness, embraced into limbo by Julla's guiding hand.
The battlefield roared on, inconsiderate to any and all who fell; whether lives were kept or lost. That was the reality that could not be shaken or disturbed, and it was an image that would never change no matter the moment in time and history.
Warriors, soldiers, men, women, children filled the medic tents with their groans, weeps, and howls of agony. What awaited Kaja Santorski would result in nothing less, surely; the two healers that carried her mangled, shrapnel-decorated body parted through the drapes of the tent and into the realm of pain and misery. The young girl was limp in their arms, dead-weight even when placed upon a crudely made cot.
Deep...
Another day. Another moment. Ruins, ashes. The Dark Queen was dead.
Freya's rule over Regalia had been terminated; her deathlings eliminated.
Marisa knew she should have celebrated with the other rebels. She was happy, after all. But with that happiness came doubt. Doubt about her own contributions.
The Countess had never brought herself to fight a single battle. She kept all of her opinions to herself, never once daring to make a stand against the atrocities that had been committed. Cowardice.
But she had committed a few atrocities of her own. Marisa had helped plan out the crashing of Greygate. Her one and only contribution. She didn't even remember exactly why she helped with such an act, knowing people would die. For what? A...
I have never written any stories about my other Kade character, Renly, so this was a first time experiment trying to write with a dumbed down style to emulate his mental processes, given that Renly is somewhat of a simpleton compared to the rest of his social groups and family. Tagging @Muffins, @MantaRey, @BillyTheScroofy, @TheBioverse, @Tiber, @Lumiess, @LadyTeddington @PonyoWantHam because relevant or family related.
It all went so fast that it was hard for Renly to even remember what exactly happened. All he remembered was Rodderick’s blood curling scream, just when Renly wasn’t watching. Something had cleaved into his leg with suck force that the bone was broken and some flesh was just peeling off. Renly couldn’t even make out...
This story is the re-telling of ingame events concerning my character and her matriarch. It took place in the tavern yesterday, so a few people may have spoken about it but please keep it within reason.
‘Julla, give me strength.’
Her icy gaze continued to flick over her shoulder, staring at the back of the platinum blonde’s head. Her stomach was filled with dread, causing her intestines to feel as if they were being twisted in knots. Have I displeased the gods? She wondered. I- I must have. To have been given this fate. To of had to sacrifice so much. She abruptly stood from her seat, hands clenching onto the bar with determination, closing her hands for but a second.
‘Pust, ikke gråt. Vær sterk, Britta.’ The voice of her...
The new of the blockade's movement spread quickly to parts of the Regalian Archipelago, as merchants from all trades began to inform their superiors of the renewing of shipments to the Crown Isle.
One such person who received this news was the Burgrave of Buechner, Eldrich Drache. As the closest relative to his father, the Viridian Knight noble had been managing the family business as best he could during the last few months, where had been unsuccessful in sending a letter to the Crown Isle. Upon hearing the news, the young heir personally sailed to the city with the next shipment, hoping to reunite with his father.
Meanwhile, Dietrich Drache had been walking around the ruined city, visiting the few business locations that he...
In reference to.
The city started to bleed.
At almost the behest of one man, the sky over the city turned a crimson-orange to make way for the afternoon sun; smoke stacks rising above the skyline to signify the burning of homes, shops and corpses alike. The blood of those who did not turn to dust sank into the ground and seeped through the stone, forever ingraining the event in the minds of everyone who tried to fight for the city, and everyone who tried to keep it. However, like many good points in history, chaos starts to run among. The paupers, the thieves and the thugs, the killers and heretics start to pour from their depths to unleash their anarchistic desires upon the mayhem that the city began to stink of.
Of course, as it...
This is entirely IC-based from the most recent Progression post. Anything in super nitty-gritty detail's probably not known IC unless Kaja told, obviously.
No amount of preparation could fill her spirit with confidence, nor could it familiarize her with the images of war. The cries of men and women alike; the living fighting against the dead. Never had she seen such a melding pot of all sorts of races fighting alongside each other - all against a common enemy. The stakes were never higher. Oh, how bittersweet the feeling was. They were all split up, and her group was to pinpoint the wall.
The stomping feet of oncoming Lo soldiers mixed with those that belonged to the Resistance. Kaja's were no different, yet it wasn't strength...
On the roof,
Sat a bird,
The bird was silent,
As the smoke soared,
Burning building,
Screaming souls,
Oh how nice,
Regalia was,
The park now frozen,
The lake a sheet,
The Regalians skate,
As if to ignore defeat.
The bird that sat,
So far up high,
Watching the horrors below,
With uncaring eyes,
"Oh where."
"Oh where Spirit are you?"
Regalians ask,
The Queen answers only,
Only with a lie,
One no one believes any longer.
The rebels plan,
The rebels scheme,
Rothburg's men and women,
Remember before,
When the Emperor had the throne,
When their families were at arm's reach,
Now the armed men and women,
Plan their attacks,
Plan and plan.
On a grave,
Sat a bird,
Feathers black,
Black as Deathling blood,
On the grave,
The bird sat,
Singing...
Eirik stacked a few boxes onto each other and climbed to the top, he called out to the gathered crowd around him and recited his speech to the gathering masses.
(This would be heard by most to all Rothburg inhabitants for IC purposes)
(I also encourage replies but do try to keep the negativity away)
Lord Commander Coen, Commanders of the town of Rothburg, and most importantly the people of Regalia. We observe today not a victory of morality, but a celebration of freedom - symbolising an end, as well as a beginning - signifying renewal, as well as change. For it has been shown before you and the Imperial Spirit the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a century and three-quarters ago.
The world is very different now. For...
The tavern was empty, most of those in Rothburg had retreated elsewhere to rest, upstairs maybe, but the first floor was bare. Except for the lone Vauclain who sat in front of the fire, one that would struggle to stay lit until the dawn when someone would replace the burnt logs. She had her knees tucked against her chest, chin resting on top of them as bored overtook her.
The girl, lonely as of now, glanced about the room, remembering the drama of earlier.
Shae, Ztril, Eric, and Loic.
She frowned slightly at the name of Shae as she thought it, but the corners of her mouth lifted again thinking of the last two names, her dear friends Eric and Loic.
Her breath was frozen as she sat there. A small cloud that nearly looked like...
The trio arrived in Ellador with relative ease, with Sharian leading the venture through the snowy landscape despite Saria's protests to lead in his stead. Calcifer calmed her by playing a cheery tune over his lute as they pushed past the freezing winds, aiming to reach their destination before nightfall.
Arriving at the dungeon entrance by dusk, the trio set up camp beneath the crumbling stone structure of the entrance, keeping a close eye on the fairly rusted metal latch that led below the surface. Making use of his brawn, Sharian set up the sturdy tent whilst Saria made handy use of her fire magic, creating a cosy campfire for the trio to huddle around. Calcifer played his part as the bard whilst they broke bread and talked...
He hated these meetings
Gochnipunchni sat at his tall desk, drumming his fingers as he waited desperately for the meeting to be over.
"And for the third quarter, we pulled in a 30% increase in stock value"
Gochnipunchni glanced at his watch, counting down the seconds.
"And for the 4th.. We lost 20% profit margins"
He perked up, this was interesting news.
"What do you mean we lost profits?! We haven't lost anything since I founded this company!"
The poor accountant bowed his head, apologizing hurriedly.
"It's because of the blockade, sir!"
"The blockade? The blockade shouldn't stop our caravans!"
"But sir, the blockade is preventing out most profitable ventures from going forth!"
He stood up, shaking one wooden finger, then stormed from...
Two days.
That was how long it had been since the Battle of Rothburg, and Dietrich Drache was still somewhat fatigued from the fight. He still couldn't fathom what came over him in the heat of the moment, but what happened happened, and there was no questioning what he did was a stoke of luck, or perhaps the culmination of the proceedings of the last few months. Whatever it was, the aging noble knew one thing, that was a fluke and he could not rely on it again.
The man trekked across the snow around town. He had been taking it easy the last few days, knowing full well that the war wasn't over just yet. Too many Loyalists had lost their lives, or had come very close to it. He was one of the few who managed to get off with a few scrapes...
Wilfre was going to come back a hero; one that a child would scream giddily about to hear for the fourth time in a row before going to sleep.
He was a lone soldier, guided by only his wits, his antimagic, and the trustworthy blade that he has never gotten rid of after almost a full decade of use. He had no friends to aid him, nor did he have any escorts to slow him down. On this night, he would chug to life and never back down on a quest truly legendary. This Magivore was going to hunt down those with the Mark of the Beast and exorcise them, or make them face their fate for what they had done to the populace of Regalia. Every apple and morsel they destroyed in the food raids would be another hour they would spend in the belly of the...
Chapter two (The Unexpected Fall)
Upon a stroll throughout the streets of Regalia, Marcus and Katelyn found themselves in a bit of a predicament. They were lost. Wandering around the city in no direction, Katelyn started to get very irritated with Marcus. “I told you to ask that old man for directions!” she would scream at him. Marcus would just look into her eyes and smile, thinking how wonderful she is when she is angry.
Katelyn, noticing that Marcus is smiling, grows even more irritated. “What?! Why are you smiling? Were lost and I am scared” she said as she shoved him away. It seemed as if it was all Marcus could do to keep himself from laughing, “But, I love the way you look right now, that angry look is just amazing and I am...
*This series will contain scenes with violence, felt I should warn you*
The smell of burnt flesh filled the air. His screams were carried for miles. The fire crept up his body slowly, like little orange spiders. He remembered a different time, long ago.
Part One: Early life
It was a hot summer day, the tar on the roofs had begun to melt, people lay in the shade of the largest trees they could find.
A barefoot boy clutching a stuffed bear runs past, followed closely by a slightly older looking Neflin girl.
"Give it back!" she screams.
"Come get it!" he yells back.
He turns down a small alley with a cheap noodle stand at the end. The vendor looks behind to see the boy running towards him, he realizes at the last moment that they...
!!!!!The Curious Case Of The Vilitatei’s Humors
!!!!!!!!Taken From The Ledger Of A Practical Physician
Pages 1-3
!!!!Some documents put together to help make clear the events of the past week, and clarify them as best as I could manage. The average daily ordeal was taking up my time, if I do recall so correctly, before I was met with a barrage of interesting scenario. Singularly, they were nothing farther from normal. It was when one took the individual happenings as a singular set of interconnected events that they would begin to see them as I had begun. They were all odd events, even separate. I would say.
!!!!A bit of a preface before the proper beginnings take place. For some time I’ve operated a small shop out of a home in...
End of Undoviel
If there was ever an unforgettable stench, it would have come from the main sewer system beneath Regalia. Stagnating canals of sewage and moss-coated stones, and a bar that the dwellers liked to gather in. Of course, when Glineth stepped inside the Magdalene, there was nobody there besides a single, four-armed Yanar and its screeching blades, two arms holding its swords and the other two running whetstones down their edges. The sound was ghastly, a gravelly howl with each length of the blades. And yet, the bar felt too quiet. Too peaceful.
The Yanar seemed quite content with sharpening its blades forever- or her, when Glineth finally turned to look at her, judging by the face- based on the lack of any indication she...
It had started to snow again. Dieter Fischer sat on a wooden chair in his small, rented apartment, listening to the running footfall and shouts coming from outside. He wore a bandage wrapped tightly around his eyes to alert others as to his blind condition, but his hearing was as keen as ever.
"They're building to a riot again," he said, rocking his head slightly towards the window.
"Let them," commented Falke Berger, a falconer, as he placed a fresh set of clothes on a side bench for the next day.
"Mm," replied the apparent blind beggar, Dieter, turning his head then towards Falke and changing the topic. "How did your meeting go? Did you get the pages printed up?"
"No," said Falke, darkly. "The fellow who owns the printing...
Soft waves lapped against the large ship, now turned tavern, as few dwellers of the undercity were heard conversing with various others and likely arguing.
“You know I won that fight.”
“You wisssh you did.”
“Shall we take it to the stonesss then?” The larger Slizzar cooed out to his little sister, a teasing grin across his face.
“Yesss, letsss.” She hissed at him as the smaller more feminine Slizzar stood from her seat and went to slither off to a booth.
The two settled into a booth as the male Slizzar pulled a pouch from his side and dumped out the contents onto the table. Eight strange coins and two dice clattered about before resting and being scooped into a pile in front of the two. These were no regals, perhaps they were...
"Your goal is to make your opponent yield. Whether they lose their weapon or you force them into submission in other means."
It was not the first spar between the sisters. Surrounded by sibling fist-fights in her childhood, they both managed to get the gist of the game. Still, the twins had no proper training or practice.
"Now, do what you must to take down your opponent. Begin."
Once the wooden swords and shields were thrown to the ground, Peggy picked it up, almost like it was totally foreign to her. She carefully traced the sword with her finger, flipping it over to observe its shape. She glanced to Eliza with uncertainty. With the encouragement from young Lizzy Black, she lifted the shield over her chest and stood in a ready...
It was a simple spar, simple rules. Do what you had to win and it ended when your opponent or you dropped your weapon or fell unconscious. Juliette, dressed in wrinkled green held her shield straight on her right arm, prepared to block herself, a wooden training sword held tight in her left hand. Elizabeth stood a good few feet away, her own wooden blade held in an unsure grasp. She held no shield.
"Jou first, mon amie."
Juliette spoke the words calmly, preparing for an attack.
Elizabeth drove forward, going to slashed her sword and unsteady the Ithanian, who countered the attack by stepped backwards in a flash and sending her opponent's weapon to the left with a startling crack as the forces collided. Juliette rose her shield...
I saw the light at the end, and I ran for it. I bloody ran like a coward-- there were still others in the Under. I...I was one of the first out. We all got out...No, I'sn't thinking of them, I was thinking of myself. 'Teroa, Gwenion; if I never see them again, bloody Void, if I never see my wife and son again,' that's what I thought to myself. That's why I ran. But I also waited to make sure they all got out. May I be forgiven-- I waited for'em.
I watched each face as the sunlight hit it, terrified faces that I could tell felt the same guilt I did. As Santi drew into the light, I reached to clap a hand on his shoulder. I didn't know many of those there, but I knew him and 'Renzo. Those two'd gotten out, at least, and most others. We...