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Thread: [M] The Journey of a Thousand Steps IC

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    Default [M] The Journey of a Thousand Steps IC

    Rated M for possible mature content including sex, violence, language, graphic situations, and drug use.

    The Journey of a Thousand Steps




    Will the ends justify the means?

    Throughout the unseen world a trumpet call has shaken the ancient heroes and forgotten warriors from their slumbers. Invisible and soundless to the mere mortals scurrying through the dust from whence they sprung, but felt within their spirits, deep down the only connection they had to the world of the divine twanged with dread and unease. Their souls cringed at the otherworldly tolling and haunted their dreams, but in their waking hours that dread was buried under the day-to-day drudgery of their finite existence. They could all feel something coming...but not a one among them could find the source or alleviate the deep rooted dread and almost soul deep ache that filtered through their idles minds. For them it was a nuisance, something to worry about later...but only they knew the cause of this discomfort...well then they might just decide to set their affairs in order first and worry about how their taxes are being spent later.

    While the mortals felt a twinge of discomfort the ethereal realm rock on the edge of complete collapse. As if a thousand volcanoes were erupting at once breaking off huge chunks of their kingdoms and lands and smashing them into the void never to be pieced back together. The whole fabric of reality had been struck a blow that could potentially be beyond fixing even with their combined efforts. Because the power behind their cataclysm is something far beyond even the oldest among them. A primordial force of creation that predates their own forces of reality, back when Light and Dark were it's only neighbors. The grayness of nothing, the Void from whence Light and Dark themselves sprung. It's whims and wills still trickling through the weaves of reality despite being so far removed from all else that the glow of the first star from the first universe is still a novelty. For eons it's consciousness has been barred away from the living realities stuck in the dimension of it's own between the infinite pockets of life that mar it's surface. So much noise...so much...annoyance smearing the totality of itself.

    But it's patience has reached it's end it wishes only to go back to sleep, but the noise of life and death are too much to allow it the peace of oblivion it so wishes to embrace. So with a massive release of power built up over billions and billions of millennia it has broken a hole in the nearest universe to it's heart and sent it's Voidlings into it swarming over every speck of dirt that held life within this first universe either wiping that speck clean instantly or creating the means from which to wipe it clean and erase that speck of dirt from it's face. Many beings, even those who were Forces of Creation and Destruction themselves fell before the Voidlings in that first wave. But the universe is vast and each foot away from the Heart of the Void the strange black creatures took weakened them. They spread far and wide and while many worlds and lifeforms still fell to them those next in line for destruction learned ways to fight back gaining or creating weapons that could beat the once invulnerable Voidlings as they continued to weaken.

    But the Void itself is a...thing beyond single mindedness. It adapted to these changes and continued to conquer and soon found the niche it needed to attain it's goal...but also the flaw in it's plan. If the Voidlings took items of power they could make up the difference for their own flagging power as the distance from their own power source grew farther and farther. They found this power boost by stealing it from the Beings of Existence they faced and using it against them. But Light and Dark are not such easy foes to overcome when they have the home field advantage. Their own creations fought back using the energy and essence of Voidlings to fight the Void akin to using the appendage of an unbreakable object to break said object. It was a stalemate since time in memorial, the Void could not be stopped in it's tracks and sent back, but it also couldn't tear through the universes unhindered by the things that live and die in that universe. And now it has reached the plane of existence we find ourselves in and this news sent panic into the hearts and minds of this plane of existence's Deities and now they were all being called into a war meeting for the ages.

    No mater the pantheon...no matter which part of existence each hails from...all are threatened by the Voidlings. But keeping the monsters from overrunning the still very primitive planet is taking all their combined efforts to maintain the veils of their reality and hold back the influences of the Heart of the Void so the call has gone out for their children, followers, and forgotten servants to find the many pilfered objects of power and use them, enhanced with the essence of voidlings to fight the unnatural creatures back and keep their plane from teetering into the ever growing maw of Nothingness. All around the young world the call has been heard and answered, but three places in particular have become focal points of this gathering of Heroes and Demigods.

    The ancient temperate forests of Briton home to Fae, painted human savages, and a wizened old man seated in the center of a huge complex of standing stones that mark the celestial calendar for the Druidic classes to follow and gain advice from for harvest times, births and deaths. The rolling hills around it emerald and vibrant. The Spirits told Merlin this would be where the Heroes he was destined to help would show up. It was a portal through time and space and would help the group reach the central meeting place of the other pantheons.

    In the nearly tropical lands around the great Mediterranean Sea, the Oracle of Delphi was seated upon her vaporous throne her eyes rolled back in her head and her body spasming with the images thrust upon her by Apollo. Pythia has been tormented by images of prophesy for years on end now. But when the bells began tolling for the great conclave of the Gods her body has been in a constant state of pain and pleasure. For days she's been locked into a continuous orgasm that turns into bodily torture as release is denied her and she is forced to go through the wailing waves of pleasure all over again. She has begged for death many times and even when her body has shut down from exhaustion her mind keeps going through the cycles of pleasure and denial. But Apollo has told her it would end as soon as the Heroes of the Middle Lands find their way to her temple. She just hoped one of them was a man who could finally bring her pleasure to it's peak and beyond before she would be set free to be their guide towards the central meeting place.

    And lastly in the desolate sands and unending winds of Egypt, in the grand city of Heliopolis a pair of powerfully built dark skinned warriors are grappling with each other. A man and a woman, both naked save the thin loincloths around their waists. Wenenu and Tjenenyet, before now minor gods of protection and messengers for the Elder Gods, glorified town guards really. But ever since the Voidlings had broken through the barriers into this existence, the Elder Gods have all been focused on holding back the tendrils of the Void and the many minor Gods like them have been...promoted as it were into being Pseudo Elder Gods so the mortal plane doesn't fall into chaos and war.

    This suited all of them fine, but they were not as powerful as the Elders so even they were being pulled thin. And now these two were being tasked with playing guide and guardians for those chosen by the Elder Gods to retrieve the artifacts stolen. The call had went out and they were told to wait in the Heliopolis for the heroes. But boredom and stress can do strange things, even to Gods so while they waited the pair were fighting for dominance and aiming to be on top the next time they had sex. Wenenu with his bull-like strength and endurance was looking to win early, but Tjenenyet had the grace and speed of a serpent on her side and easily slipped around her bulky comrade's swings to harrow him with tiny cuts from her nails. In the mortal plane they looked like every other human in the streets of Heliopolis, but they still carried the auras of the bull and serpent about them so the heroes would be able to find them before they would be led to the central meeting place.



    Time was not on the side for any of these groups, but Fate and it's many forms have just as much stake in our heroes accomplishing their goals. So maybe they could bend the lines just enough to give this world an edge over the eons old nightmare that is the Void.
    Last edited by SikstaSlathalin; 11-21-2020 at 03:22 AM.


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  2. #2
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    Andraste walked over to the big house near the center of the small village that has been hidden by the forest for so long. She had been summoned by the elders, it must have been important. It normally is when you're called by the elders.
    She stopped at the door and took a deep breath. She had no idea why she was so nervous, but she suspected it had something to do with that attack. No one knew for sure what those things were.
    She walked in.

    "Oh, Andraste. Come, sit." Said Yeva, one of the eldest of the elders, as she sat cross-legged on a cushion at the other side of the fire pit.
    "She's young, she can stand." Came from Livean, she always seemed to be in an unpleasant mood. She walked over from a small side room and took a seat next to Yeva with a cup of tea in her hands.
    Yevick stood facing a tapestry on the wall depicting the forest guardians as they danced. He bowed his head and spoke in a deep, soft voice "Lighten up a little Livean." He turned around and continued, "I think she's earned that much after traipsing about the forest in its defense for years, wouldn't you say?"
    Livean gave a non-committal huff as Yevick took his own seat.

    They all exchanged looks as if seeing who should say the first word before Livean sighed.
    Andraste took her seat as Livean spoke. "We have a plan to help with the upcoming attacks." She said, "And we've picked you to carry it out."
    Andraste's ear twitched as she looked up as Yeva flinched and Yevick couched.
    "What?" she asked, "If you wanted more tact, you should have said it."
    The other two elders sighed. "Tact aside, you are the one we have chosen," Yevick said.
    "We couldn't think of anyone better," Said Yeva.

    "But what is it I'm supposed to do?" Andraste asked meekly despite her small lack of understanding of the situation and her normal attitude. You never acted up around the elders.
    "You are to bring back a live trimming of the Endrais tree," Yevick said. And it seemed else's turn to look at him. But he pressed forward. "It's magic will help protect this forest."
    "But, Elder Yevick, isn't the fabled tree only a myth?" Andraste asked.
    "It is very much real, child," Yeva said. "But it is very hard to reach. It'll be a hard journey."
    "And you won't be alone," Levean said. "Or so the great mother says when you're the only one we're sending."
    Yeva flinched and Yevick glared and Levean drew a deep breath under their pressure. "She does know best," Levean said with a muttered "Sometimes."

    "You'll need to make it to Stonehenge," Yeva said. "That's where you'll be shown the way."
    "Stonehenge," Andraste said softly. "But, how am I supposed to get there when I don't even go six days out of the forest?"
    "You'll be fine," Yevick said. "I suppose you should rest and prepare for the 'morrow."
    "What?" She asked, a little stunned by all of this she almost forgot herself. "You're sending me off in the morning?"
    "I'm afraid so," Yeva said and Levean added "and good riddance. I'm sick and tired of having to compete with your temper. I'm supposed to be the fiery one around here."
    Everyone gave Levean a quick, quizzical look. "We know you'll do just fine." Yevick said.

    "Alright," Andraiste said. "I'll begin making preparations."
    She got up, gave a small bow, and walked out to find Tearina sharpening her knife on a stone.
    "So, what did the elders want?" She asked casually, her ears putcked to listen.
    "I'm leaving tomorrow." Andraste said, "They... gave me a quest."
    Tearina stopped mid-stroke. "A quest?" She almost shouted, "They haven't done that in ages. Do you know the last time they handed out a quest? It was while Yevick was still young."
    "I know." Adndraste snapped, "I gotta make preparations. Maybe I can go hunting with you when I'm done."
    And she walked off to her own little hut.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  3. #3
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    Deep in the hidden spaces of the forest, where even druids couldn’t walk, the faeries danced. Fluttering wings and prancing hooves made a rhythm unheard by mortals as the Fair Folk moved. Horns and tails glittered with jewelry, eyes flashed with golden glee, carapaces and fur and scales and skin all moved like living liquid. Amongst them, only half had any sort of clothing, and partners were passed between dancers and lovers like cursed gold moves through hands shaking with grief.

    Above them, atop the stump of a massive tree, a band played. A faerie with ram-like horns and a tuft-ended tail strummed a bouzouki, a faerie with four arms and spidery eyes drummer on a bodhrán, while a faerie with antlers and deer-like hooves danced quickly, creating a clicking sound when her hooves hit the stump. But the main show was the green-skinned fiddler with buzzing wings. The tune that sprang from his instrument made the dancers forget themselves as they reveled in the starlight. As he played, he sang:

    I am a weaver,
    a Calton Weaver,
    I am a brash and a rovin' blade
    I've got sill'er in my britches an' follow the roving trade.

    Whiskey whiskey Nancy Whiskey,
    Whiskey whiskey Nancy O!
    Whiskey whiskey Nancy Whiskey,
    Whiskey whiskey Nancy O!

    I went into a faerie city,
    Nancy Whiskey I did smell
    I went in, sat down beside her
    Seven long years I loved her well!


    As he spoke, the starlight seemed to grow brighter, the dancers moved faster, air tasted sweeter and wine flowed freely. He could have played for 4 minutes or 4 millennia, it didn’t matter. It seemed to go by far too quick for the dancers. As the song ended, a sparrow landed at his feet.

    “Bairdhwyn, your presence is requested by Queen Áine.” The musician instantly perked his head.

    “I suppose I must go then. I appreciate your message, feathered one. I will repay you for your efforts.” He gave a crooked smile and fished around in his bag. He produced a small nut. “Accept this offering as a repayment of my debt.” He gave no room for argument with his statement, and the sparrow had no choice but to agree. To refuse would be an insult on Bairdhwyn’s honor and to ask for more would make it seem greedy. It took the nut in its beak and fluttered off.

    He turned to the crowd, which had ceased dancing to stare at him. He gave a showman’s bow and waved to the assembled fae. He stuck out a hand and his walking stick shot into his outstretched palm. This was apparently all for show, as he began to buzz his wings and zipped out from the glade. Behind him, the band resumed and the dancers continued as if he had never left. He gave a small sigh.

    No more than 30 minutes had passed when he landed in the streets of Elfhame. Around him, fae went about their business. Hobs, sluaghs, redcaps, pookas, even a few glamoured mortals formed a roiling crowd that seemed like a river of Fair Folk. He weaved through them, making his way to the living castle. Carved from the inside of a massive tree, the castle extended through the trunk, with the dungeons within the roots and royal bedrooms within the swaying boughs. He fluttered above the crowd and right through the open doors.

    Inside, it seemed to be even more busy than outside. But the bustling servants and his swarming siblings meant nothing to him. The only thing that mattered was the strikingly beautiful woman sitting atop the throne. Surrounding her, mortals and faeries alike lounged in a haze of infatuation and glamoured mental blur. She was ageless, with milk-pale skin and amber hair. Warmth and light rolled off of her in waves, and her colorful wings waved lightly. Her golden eyes were filled with mirth as she looked at Bairdhwyn. His heart skipped a beat.

    “Bairdhwyn!”

    “Mother.”

    “You’ve heard the news?”

    “Aye.”

    “Then you know why I need you and your siblings more than ever.”

    “Aye.” His heart fell a bit with your siblings.

    “I’ve sent word to Merlin. You all are to meet him at that rock formation those druids created.”

    “Stonehenge?”

    “Aye, that’s the one.” She smiled. After an awkward beat of silence, Bairdhwyn realized she had already moved on.

    “I will hope to be home with the saddle within a week.”

    “Hmm? Oh, yes dear.” Bairdhwyn turned on the spot and flitted out the doors. He was going to beat his siblings there if it took everything he had.


    The sun beat down on the red sands of Egypt, baking anything foolish enough not to take cover. The only respite from the deadly heat was the powerful Nile, but even the Nile was wrought with danger. Herds of hippopotamus that spanned miles of the twisting river crushed rafts between their jaws. Pirates stalked the river, ready to kill any unfortunate merchants using the river. Under the water, currents would rip swimmers from the surface and spin them until they drowned. Then there were the crocodiles. Ancient reptiles that seemed to operate on hunger and hunger alone. They could take children from their mother’s sides, snap up fishermen with nary a ripple, and tear even the strongest warrior limb from limb with ease. Amongst the crocodiles swam a man without fear.

    Half the length of the shortest crocodile, the man was not touched. The crocodiles did not attack, but neither did they shy away. They would sidle up to the man’s side, then swim alongside him as he paddled out into the river. Once in the middle of the river, he took a deep breath, then disappeared beneath the surface without a splash. One minute passed, then another, and another. Nearly seven minutes passed before the man returned. He shook his head and wiped his face with a hand while steadying his breath. The crocodiles simply swam around him. He repeated this process for an hour, each time going down for longer.

    After an hour, he swam ashore. The crocodiles followed as he strode to the bundle of clothes and sword he had left on a rock. He shook out his shendyt, dropping a scorpion on the scorching sand. He pulled on his greaves and bracers, replaced the golden rings in his dreadlocks, and tied his khopesh’s scabbard to his belt. He bid the crocodiles farewell with a wave of his hand and a growl deep in his chest.

    He strolled through the streets of Shedyet, navigating through the crowds of merchants, townsfolk going about their business, and children chasing each other through the streets. From a window, a cat watched him go past. As the morning grew even hotter, Sobekhotep made his way to the temple to Sobek. Once inside the temple, he beelined for the crocodile pond. Inside, a particularly large crocodile lounged, decorated with gold and jewels. It regarded him with a lazy eye.

    “Have you heard any news from my father?”

    The crocodile yawned, or made as similar a motion as it could.
    “As a matter of fact, I have.”

    “Well?” He raised an eyebrow.

    “He wants you to travel to the Heliopolis. There, you will meet the bull and the serpent.”

    “Hapi and Wadjet?”

    “No, two minor gods named Wenenu and Tjenenyet. They will guide you and any other warriors of Egypt on your quest.”

    “There will be others?”

    “Of course there will. If you were Egypt’s only representative, we’d be overrun by Voidlings in moments.”

    “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He frowned at the crocodile, who didn’t care. “Then I’m off.”

    “Good. Leave me to my offerings in peace.” Sobekhotep rolled his eyes and kneeled. He uttered a quick prayer to his father. “You’re still here?” Sobekhotep grunted, then turned and left the temple. He made his way back through the town, down to the docks. He strode down the docks, looking for a ship that could make the journey to Heliopolis. He found a captain willing to take him, provided he worked on the ship during the journey, and they left that afternoon. He was on his way to Heliopolis, ready to meet the bull and the serpent and whatever other warriors of Egypt there were.
    <a href=https://images.app.goo.gl/MJKETshMQ8yXopEM8 target=_blank>https://images.app.goo.gl/MJKETshMQ8yXopEM8</a>

  4. #4
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    Cu walked along the rocky road to the sea in silence, coming across no one, save a woman sitting by a cart, weeping. She was beautiful as the morning sun, with hair red as fire, dressed in fine green cloth. Cu could not help but be moved by her beauty and strode boldly over to her. "Fair lady, why do you weep so piteously?" He said, as she raised her her head and he saw the delicate lines of her face marred by streams of tears."

    "Oh, good sir, thou art a warrior, yes? Pray, aid me. I am on the road to visit my sick father, but a bridge up yonder is inhabited by an ugly monster. He refuses to move unless I agree to bed him, but I am loathe to do so, for how ugly he is and how cruel his heart is." She begged, and was about to go on when the child of light raised his hand to stop her.
    "You need not say more, maiden. The beast shall breathe its last today. Only wait here, and i shall return in due time."

    The Cu, steeling himself for battle, feeling the fire build up in him again strode toward the bridge, sword and shield in hand. Afore long, he reached a stone bridge, wherupon stood a large, hairy troll, naked to the waist and wearing a kilt of human skin, with a belt of skulls, and wielding a mighty club. The troll gestures to Cu CHulainn threateningly. "Halt, this bridge is mine, and none may pass without my blessing. Offer me your daughter as a bride, and I may let ye pass."
    "Nay, no more maidens will you hinder, and neither shall you hinder me!" Cu Chulainn roared as he quickened his pace into a sprint, shield raised. The troll merely sighed and laughed.
    "Ha, then you will die, boy!"

    The troll raised his club to smashed the Cu, but quick, her was, pirouetting with a spin out of the way as the club smashed the old road. Our hero, however, fared better, his sword striking out with the swiftness of a snake, and slicing open the heel of the beast, which caused it to roar and fall to one knee and swing wildly. The powerful blow connected with Cu's shield, and knocked it off his arm, but Cu merely rushed the troll with a two-handed thrust. The troll reached to grab the blade, and its magical blade bit deeply into the troll's hand as the blade went towards its eye, which it pierced.

    The troll howled in pain as the blade blinded its on eye, but all at once, he opened his other wide in shock when he realized his opponent. "Ye be no mortal man! Y-ye be The Hound of Cullen. But ye be dead!"
    "I guess it didn't take." Cu coldly responded as the troll tried to punch him, but before the swing could connect, the blade, pushed forward by the muscles of the Guard Dog of Ulster, drilled into the foul beast's brain, and the troll went limp at The Hound's feet.

    Withdrawing his blade from the dead troll, he heard the sound of hooves, and turned around to see the woman, still beautiful as ever, but a goat from the waist down. "You are a fairy."
    She nods. "Aye, brave Hound. Pray forgive me for the deception, but my father truly is ill, and this troll wished to eat me. I could not defeat him."
    "No matter." Cu said, dismissively. "Your heart was in the right place, I could not hold it against you."
    The Glaistig walks over to him and places her hand on his chest. "Please, brave champion, allow me to reward you." She says, as they embrace and kiss long and passionately. It is not too soon that they retire to a roadside clump of bushes and they passionately make love until Cu Chulainn passes out, for his powerful virility could only be matched by another immortal.

    When he awakens, he finds himself beneath the shading branches of an oak tree, far away, and in the distance he can see Stonehenge. Getting dressed, he heads toward the ring, smiling as he remembered his fairy lover.

    Spoiler: Things I like 

  5. #5
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    Andraste walked out of her hut with all she needed on her back, with a bag of coin to help her along.
    But when she walked out she saw a near dozen of her siblings standing there.

    "Uh, we wished to see you off, Andraste," One explained, his small rack of antlers not much to compete with those who did poses such.
    "A night of hunting and feasting for our sister of the forest!" Another cheered, an older sister with fox like ears, and everyone present let out a small cheer for it.
    "The whole pack together, for one more night," Yearina said at the front with a few others of close the same age with resembling wolf features, 4 if you numbered Andraste among them.
    Andraste couldn't help but let a small tear for joy escape, and she smiled. "A night of hunting and feasting it shall be!" She proclaimed.

    And so they set out in the night to hunt together and fulfill their duties when the need arose.
    And so it did as they came across several bands of hunters, only 2 stayed for the care and respect they gave the forest as the rest were driven off. And in the sight of these siblings, they were little trouble.

    They hunted and foraged for their food and cooked some of the meat in a secluded part of the forest they knew well and did feast for a time.
    "Andraste," Kiab addressed her with the rest of the pack behind him, "We wish to accompany you to the nearest town for your travels." And everyone with him nodded.
    "It wouldn't be right otherwise," Tearina added.
    For a moment Andraste said nothing. Then she spoke, "we leave in the morning," she said, "and don't expect me to wait for you guys."

    And they slept in the forest that night, bidding their farewells in the morning, they set and stopped at the edge of the forest to prepare themselves. Normal people wouldn't well accept them as they were, though a few did know them truly, few else did.
    Andraste tied a cloth over her ears and concealed her tail, putting on a skirt and good blouse, the others doing as they could to blend in with the humans.
    Then they continued onward for near a day before reaching the nearest town.

    They stopped and hugged, and bid each other farewell.
    And it was Andraste on her own from here.
    It may help to secure passage to Camelot since it was close to Stonehenge by most counts.
    And thus she began, procuring passage with a merchant who was heading in that direction but only by a few towns. Yet, with a promise of payment, he agreed to take her as far as he could.

    They stopped by a town for a day, but she almost gave herself away when she got a bit too drunk on the local ale when a nice man kept her from "embarrassing" herself and carried her up to her room and she fell asleep as soon as she was under the covers. And the kind man roused her in the morning with a shake of the shoulder, "Come on daughter of the forest, you gotta get a' moven if you're gonna ride with that merchant." He said.
    "Hm, what?" She sat up and rubbed her eyes to see the man standing by her bed. The only thing that set him apart was his glowing eyes. She blinked, and he was gone.

    After waking up a little more and setting her disguise to rights, she got her stuff and headed out to catch the merchant just before he left.
    "Well, lass, I was beginning to think ye wouldn't be comin'," He said before she hopped on and they got underway.
    Last edited by Highland Sniper; 11-30-2020 at 09:47 PM.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  6. #6
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    *On the outskirts of Delphi*

    To one who has lived many years in silence the tolling of the bells that shook the mortal planes affected her far more than her uninitiated human counterparts. Where they just felt an uncomfortable dread in the back of their minds, Astraea and her fellow Vigilantes would describe it like having their heads right next to the tolling of a great brass bell. Their skulls stung and their eyes watered, but their training kept them from uttering a sound and once it finally abated enough so they could see straight, word came from their patron about the catastrophe of the Voidlings stealing precious and powerful relics from Hades and the other Gods of Olympus.

    Normally such a crisis would be an all hands on deck situation for the Vigil of Harpocrates, as it is one of their duties to recover such artifacts especially considering the God of Silence himself was a victim. But Astraea was the only Vigilant not already on a mission, and none of them could leave a mission uncompleted. It would break the very foundation of their God's teachings. So she was the one chosen to answer the call of the Gods and travel to Delphi. The others would join her as soon as they were able, but as far as the former Spartan could tell...she was the only representative of Greece that was called to meet with the Oracle who would guide them through these tumultuous times.

    She had never been the Delphi herself, but as she was free to speak for now it was easy enough to ask directions. She wouldn't be taking her vow of silence until the actual mission was granted to her. And after all these years living in near total silence hearing her own voice was an odd feeling. In her youth she had quite a lovely singing and speaking voice from what her family told her, but now it sounds strained and quiet. Her vocal cords were weaker than they should be for a woman of her age and robust health. But it did make her smile and laugh seeing the reactions of those she spoke with. In her full Spartan regalia most would expect her voice to be powerful and deep, like a lioness. But when she speaks she sounds more like an old crone trying to whisper through the wind. The shock on their faces was priceless and was still making her laugh as she crossed the large gates of Delphi around midday.

    It was about as busy as she expected the seat of the greatest Oracle in the world to be. Chariots rumbled up and down the dirt and cobblestone roads. Merchants hawking their wares to anyone whose ear they could bend, a strange chanting and stink of death hung over everything though. The warrior woman hoped this wasn't an ill omen for the success of this mission. Shaking the thoughts from her mind she adjusted the weight of her hoplon and doru between her shoulder blades so her travel pack under them would more comfortably and marched confidently into the city setting out to find the temple of Apollo where the Oracle sat.
    Last edited by SikstaSlathalin; 11-24-2020 at 07:18 AM.


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  7. #7
    Member TheExiledChampion's Avatar
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    Seia worm her way through the crowd as best she could, trying to reach the Temple of Apollo where the Oracle can be found. Deciding awhile back, before coming here, to pursue this Oracle for clues or guidance on where to search for the item she seeks. As well as any other important questions she plan to ask from Delphi's Oracle, especially if she'll succeed in getting her father and the rest of the Roman army unpetrified.

    Along the way to the Oracle, Seia ignored the harping vendors trying to sale their wares. Thankfully, they were visitors from other countries outside of Greece. Allowing the only Centurion, as far as she knows, to blend in with little worried of coming in conflict with anyone who despise Romans. Especially when she was wearing a cloak to hide her armor, her shield wrapped up in a sheet of cloth to conceal it as well. Though her sword and spear visible, the spear being also wrapped up, but she certain anyone looking at her would think she was a simple traveling mercenary.

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  8. #8
    Red Ninja
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    *The Hills of Mesopotamia*

    The wind howled around his head as Am-Rai soared through the clouds above the lands of Babylon and Sumer as a proud eagle. He had nearly honed in on a location to begin his ground search for the Feather of Judgement when the calls for the Great Conclave shook the sky around him. His keen vision blurred and he fell out of the thermal he had been riding up from the Upper Kingdom. Falling several hundred feet the Follower of Anubis screeched in annoyance and flapped his mighty wings frantically for a few seconds before he finally managed to regain his balance and swear to himself.

    Flapping in the middle of the sky for he saw heard the screech of Horus before his eyes caught the glint of a tawny feathers. While it was very rare for the Sky God to play messenger like this Am-Rai recognized the God's voice and the calling of the Gods told him all he really needed to know. While not bound to the normal restraints of physical exhaustion being what amounts to breathing construct the idea of flying all the way back to Heliopolis made his soul pulse with tiredness.

    Still he could not ignore the call of the Elder Gods. With a final look at the central garden of Babylon, he sensed the presence of a powerful artifact memorizing the location in his mind's eyes so he could more easily find it next time. With the image set in his eons old's mind he soared down catching another high altitude thermal to take some of the stain off his wings as he wheeled back towards the warm sands of Egypt.


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  9. #9
    Wolf of the Highlands
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    Andraste slept in the back for their 3rd day of travel.
    It wasn't too eventful, but she was glad that she still had her bow close to hand if she needed it. She had heard yesterday that the roads were plague by bandits now these days. Unsavery characters who liked nothing better than to steal the clothes off your back and slit your throat if you complained too much.

    The sun had passed it's peak when she heard the rather loud *Thunk!* of the arrow sticking to wood planks. Her eyes sprang open to find the arrow at the other side of the waggon from where she slept. Either whoever loosed the arrow had missed her pretty bad, or they just wanted to get their attention.
    The man immediatly stopped with a groan as a group of men come out from behind the rocks and few trees by the road.

    She grit her teeth and grabbed her bow and quiver while one of them drew another arrow and the rest approached with swords and axes, about 6 in all, it would be a tough fight out in the open like this.
    She swings out of the waggon as the main raises his merchant raises his hands, "I don't want any trouble," He says.
    But the one with the bow tries to shoot Andraste as she hops to the opposite side of the waggon from them and it wizzed past her head.

    She popped up with her own arrow knocked and drawn to her cheek and she let it fly to strike the archer, and it struck true leaving the man on the ground as the rest rushed in to confront her, and she dropped a second with another arrow before they reached her and she was forced to resort to her hunting knife at such close range.
    "You should just give up, girl!" One said as he swong his sword and she moved to avoid it only to be foreced to avoid another's arcing axe.

    Sidestepping, she lashed out at the man with her knife stabbing him in the side with it as she passed him, but the rest continued to persue her as she narrowly avoided being decapitated, the sword catching on the cloth she used to tie back her hair and ears revealing her wolfish nature.
    The men froze for a moment, allowing her to catch her breath as they spoke with shock. "She... has the ears of a wolf." "Forest spirit?" "She'll curse us."
    "Then we'll just take her!" One barked, "I'm sure she'll be a great pleaser with the right training." And he charged her, but a cut to the throat ended him quickly.

    "I'm no play thing!" She said as the remaining 3 stood before her. She stood ready and asked, "Anyone else?" before they all turned tail and ran.
    She sighed and turned to see the old merchant gapping at her from his seat. "Come on, let's go before mor bandits come," She said as she grabbed her things, though the cloth she used had been torn in half when it was snagged on one of the bandit's swords.
    The man turned back around, "Quite right, best not displease the spirits," He says and waited for her to get back on before resuming their journey.

    It annoyed her that she would need to stay out of sight now that she couldn't hide her ears, but she'd live. The important thing was that she was alive.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

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  10. #10
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    The night was quiet and cool, crickets quietly singing their songs and a light breeze caressing Bairdhwyn’s face for but a moment before disappearing. His feet made no prints on the well-worn path through the forest. He hummed a small tune while walking, his walking stick lightly tapping upon the path. His wings buzzed ever-so-slightly. It was no loud, bawdy jig, but even this small noise was a song.

    Above him, the moon shone silver-white and cast everything in an unearthly semi-brightness that made pale things seem to glow in the quiet and cool dark. The trees to his left rustled, and he caught sight of a creature walking through them. It was a tall creature, with pale white skin, a cloak of moss and fungus, and set of antlers that seemed to scratch at the night sky. It was a faerie, a guardian of this forest, and had come to bid him a good evening. Like recognizes like, after all.

    “Ho, Greensinger!”

    “Ho, Treewalker!” They eyed each other for a moment, neither wanting to bow to the other, nor showing disrespect by refusing to bow. After a tense moment, the guardian of the forest bowed ever so slightly. Bairdhwyn smiled a sharp-toothed grin and bowed just low enough for it to be an insult.

    “Well met, Greensinger.” The guardian said through a smile. “Tell me, what brings you through my forest?”

    “My business is my own, Treewalker.”

    “Come now, I can’t have just anybody walking through my wood. It is my business to know who is traipsing along this path.” The guardian was a good twelve feet tall, but Bairdhwyn felt no fear. The real threat would be their words, and this guardian was as adept at wordplay as a fish is at fencing.

    “I imagine you have quite a bit of business then.” He smirked.

    “Only ever as much as to make it interesting. There are the mortals that come through now and again, the giants and the wurms. I rarely get Fair Folk visitors. It’s been quite a while since I’ve heard a proper faerie minstrel.” Bairdhwyn’s mood soured.

    “I am no minstrel, Treewalker.” He snarled, but then regained his composure. “I am a bard, a master of the spoken word!” The guardian clapped its hands.

    “How wonderful! Come, sing me a song and I will grant you safe travel through my wood.”

    “I think not. I will sing you a song, but I will accept no payment. I only wish you happiness until the end of your days!” He smiled, and before the guardian could disagree, he pulled out his fiddle and began to play a jig. His mandolin started to strum itself, and his tin penny whistle belted out a tune like silver riverwater. He began to sing:

    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Step it out, Mary, if you can
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Show your legs to the countryman

    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Step it out, Mary, if you can
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Show your legs to the countryman

    In the village of Kilgory, there's a maiden young and fair
    Her eyes shine like diamonds, she has long and golden hair
    The horseman he comes riding, riding up to her father's gates
    On a milk-white stallion, he comes at the strike of eight

    So step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Step it out, Mary, if you can
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Show your legs to the countryman

    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Step it out, Mary, if you can
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Show your legs to the countryman

    I have come to court your daughter, Mary of the golden hair
    I have gold and I have silver, I have goods beyond compare
    I will buy her silks and satin and a gold ring for her hand
    She shall have a mansion, she'll have servants to command

    So step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Step it out, Mary, if you can
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Show your legs to the countryman

    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Step it out, Mary, if you can
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Show your legs to the countryman

    I don't want your gold and silver, I don't want your house and land
    I am going with a soldier, I have promised him my hand
    But the father spoke up sharply: You will do as I command
    You'll get married on a Sunday and you'll wear that wedding band
    So step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Step it out, Mary, if you can
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Show your legs to the countryman

    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Step it out, Mary, if you can
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Show your legs...

    In the village of Kilgory there's a deep stream flowing, by on her
    Wedding day at midnight she drowns with her soldier boy
    In the cottage there is music, you can hear her father say:
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter, Sunday is your wedding day
    Sunday is your wedding day
    Sunday is your wedding day
    Step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, Mary
    Step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, step it out, Mary
    Step it out Mary
    Step it out Mary
    Step it out Mary
    If you can
    Step it out Mary
    Step it out Mary
    Step it out Mary
    If you can
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Step it out, Mary, if you can
    Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
    Show your legs to the countryman


    When he was finished, the guardian of the forest was gasping for breath. It had broken nearly instantly, and danced to the music until its feet were smoking. Nevertheless, it had a wild grin plastered to its face.

    “Wonderful, wonderful! Again!” Bairdhwyn gave a soft smile.

    “You’ll have the uphold your end of the bargain, first.” Before the guardian could realize what it had agreed to, Bairdhwyn’s spear shattered its skull.

    “Glk.” It gurgled for a second, then the deep-set yellow eyes went dark. Bairdhwyn’s spear returned to walking stick form, and he continued on his way. This was the third time this had happened already, and he was starting to grow weary of it. He almost regretted his bardic talents. Almost. As he went, he hummed the same tune he had played moments before.
    <a href=https://images.app.goo.gl/MJKETshMQ8yXopEM8 target=_blank>https://images.app.goo.gl/MJKETshMQ8yXopEM8</a>

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