[rp] The Light Of Lyria [closed]

I'll wait.

 

Aw. Didn't get to make an application in time :/

 

I'll make my ability the power to bend air if that's allowed

 

Uhh... Exactly how much spare time did you have?

 

All summer.

 

((Yeah but Azoren is in the military. It would make sense that he wakes up earlier than most people. it's still rather early in the morning))

 

I will now be working my way through the thread, handling new applicants and posts alike, two at a time.

"My legend truly does proceed me. Oh and, this life will definitely not be better. Enjoy!
There's nothing below you. You're falling, falling...

Gone.
-
Your feet find the ground with a loud crunch as leaves break to pieces. Only small streams of light seem to break through the green leaves far above. Silhouettes of shadowy creatures duck behind roots, and you feel as if eyes are constantly upon you.

"I do not believe they give charity homes to otherworldly travelers. Who knows though, really?"
Your vision darkens. Sight of where you are is lost.
-
You come to in a black woods of spiraling trees. Light only rarely spearheads through the high canopy, making it all the more prominent. Shadows seem to dart around like a perpetual war. In branches, under roots, everywhere. The trees themselves have breath.

 

"Oh, this is going to make Releth's day."
They don't mince words.

The light minces you.
-
"Death hath given us a command, my coven. A life we shall take today- and we shalt be the first." Your mouth moves on it's own, speaking words in time with the pale figures around you. Dank air streams through this place, smelling of must and grime. You appear to be standing around an altar of a glassy black substance, scrawled with so many words it may have well been a novel

"I like you. Who knows, maybe you'll live?"

But no favor can save you from the light, which finds even the servants of Illia.

All die in time.
-
You awake in darkness. The broken remains of what once was a great and holy steeple lie forgotten on the floor. Whether destroyed by time or destroyed by fire, it doesn't matter any more.

What matters are the dark marks scrawled on the floor and on the walls, forming vile insignias with an even worse meaning. Holy books lay ripped open, pages blotted with ink. Even the windows are shattered- their golden glass pieces strewn haphazardly. And the black altar in the very center, the only clear place in the church. That is where you stand.

"Death demands a life today. One from the rich pigs who destroy the city for peasants to clean. Yes, my coven we shall take a life today. And only us." A hooded figure stands in the center of it all, voice raised to address all of you- every shadowy figure that dots the wreckage. "Not the sewer-rat coven in the south. Not the faithless ones." They hiss with a particular venom, one many in the room echo.

 

Nixis tries to stand up, brushing of some of the leaves and branches.
"What happened?! My legs hurt like hell."
He rubs his eyes, trying to get back some vision, which is when he sees the shadowy creatures.
"Whoo..! What is..?"
He steps away from the creatures.

 

I remain silent, looking around discreetly to see who's life it is that Death demands.

 

I try to stay calm and pretend that i know what is going on as i say ''We shall go to the neares village and take the life of the village elder and give him the honor of being with Death itself. Now go my coven the hunt has begun!'' as I finish the speach they all cheer and start running out of the room witch now that i look at it it seems more like a run down church with two banners on each side of the room saying ''MAY DEATH BE UPON YOU'' that seem to be writen in blood as all the pale figures leave i follow

 

"Well this is interesting." I mutter to myself. "Well, guess I'll get moving, who knows where."
Start moving in random direction.

 

"Does it really matter? You are supposed to go 'garrr, yes kill!" Someone speaks inside your head, breaking the silence as the dark elf cranes his head to inspect the lines from the podium, oblivious to the voice.

As if on cue, one of the undead cry out in a voice as rough and gravelly as sand "garrr yes, kill!" And the other undead follow suit. Someone's playing you here.

The elf nods, fluidly detaching a sconce from the wall. "Shall we, then?" He gestures to the darkness. "I daresay we have work to do before the sun is high."

 

I reluctantly follow suit, mimicking the zombies.
"Relax, disembodied voice."
I think.
"I'm playing this smart. I'll kill something, soon."

 

"Perfect."
I stand up and begin to go down the hallway ahead of where he gestured. "Let's go, then." I open a door on the east wall, going out into a larger and more ornate room, and look back at the other two elves.

 

((Check them again ;) ))

You move over to the bar. Roughly carved into the wood, it lists off some herbal tea, goldenleaf elixir, nectar, and similar drinks. This place seems to be completely alcohol free, only having natural drinks. The dryad glances up, her skin a light hue of green with white roses sporadically blooming everywhere. "I didn't see you come in. Anything I can help with?"

The forest doesn't seem to want you to leave. A root materializes- or was it always there?- and brings you back to the ground. "Outsider," the wind whispers. "Cannot gaze upon the hollow."

 

"Hello. Could I purchase a herbal tea?" I say, nervously (He's not great with people :P).

No comment aside from "No comment aside from "No comment aside from...""

 

"The front lines. Not far." He inclines his head in front of you. You appear to be approaching a rather large pile of shovels stacked over even the grass.

"Ugh! Who talk!" An ogre in your close proximity yells, his eyes darting rather quickly around each slave. "Nub talk."

"Classic." A familiar voice invades your head. "Truly original. Have I not read this somewhere? Yes, I feel like I have."

"What does "jk" mean? Mortals confuse me. Almost makes me want to drop you into a war zone. Oh! That is exactly what I shall do! Genius!

The air stills. The stars, mist- all of it.

And then you stop breathing.
-
You suck in a breath, the air cold and sterile in the early morning. Below the branch you perch on lies a dark clearing, and in it a humanoid seems to be moving about. But there's an extra silhouette where there should not be. A trick of the low light? "Captain sir. A beast of some sort, but nae our target. Shall we engage?"

________________________________

Sorry if I didn't see this part, and it's a little late now but:

Spoiler: Lycan

Race: Lycan
Age range: Dependent on base species (A human-turned-Lycan would retain their age range of 1-100)
Their alignment tends to lean chaotic.
Description: A race born of an ancient plague, driven to lunacy. When the moon comes out, they will feel a pull towards it. During a full moon, it becomes completely irresistible, and they lose control no matter what. This will transform them fully into a large wolf and bring them into a blood frenzy.

Their appearance is mostly dependent on their base race, though all werewolves have sheathable claws and sharp teeth.

Some races are not compatible with a Lycan, and cannot become afflicted with the plague.

 

It doesn't really matter now that it is too late to join, but thanks anyway.

 

_____________________________________________________​

I walk and walk. It occurs to me that I've clearly been underestimating the size of this city and it's wall. I thought that it must be 100-200 feet tall, but it's over 1000. The city itself, which I thought a small one, sprawls on for miles and miles, streets winding. Said streets never go in a straight line for more than 20 feet, making me take increasingly strange routes in order to keep heading in the direction that I need to go. The people I pass are either cold and hungry or have a look of bloodthirstiness in their eyes. Letting my guard down, even for a moment, will almost certainly get me killed and looted.

Suddenly, a scream breaks out from an alley branching off from the road. Even if I don't actually remember the base military codes, it's probably in them somewhere that I have to investigate things like this. I ready my spear, really hoping that I have some kind of residual amazing fighting skills. In order to see what's happening, I press myself against the building on the corner between the building and the alley, hoping that I can look in and see what to do.
There is a small girl about to be stabbed.

"A man's gotta eat in these desperate times, girl. You'd do well to sit and not scream." Seeing this, I don't even think. I turn the corner, dramatically entering the alley.

"Fear not! I am here to sa-"

_____________________________________________________​

Blinding pain.

I look down and see the edge of a sword poking out of my chest. Useless armor....
"Look like ya didn't look behind ya, eh? It's always fun sticking it to one of the guards."

Well, looks like it's been a good life, even if I don't remember most of it. Guess it's time to die.

No. Not yet. I don't know what I have to live for but there has to be something.
So I cannot die. Not yet.

_____________________________________________________​

Ereut Charborn was never a good man. He'd grown up in the slums of Highwatch with his mother and baby sister, a place where good men were killed without thought. He'd made his way as a decent thief, robbing plenty of people. The sole breadwinner of his family, after his father left. He was a man who had to do what he did lest it happen to him.

Today was a normal day really, until a guy he knew roped him into his little "food scavenging" project. With the war going on, things were even shittier in these slums than they were usually, and scraps of food were becoming extremely hard to come by, and his family was hungrier than most.
It was only after the job was nearly done that this soldier ruined everything. His friend was going to make the kill and he'd been tasked with keeping people out of the alley. The soldier burst in, quickly earning himself a lethal backstab.
Or at least it should have been. He stayed still for a couple seconds, muttering something to himself, before -

Somewhere else in the city slums, a mother and young daughter sit. They have had little food today, as normal. For the past several years they've had to live off handouts, as the daughter is not yet old enough for hunting, and the father disappeared years ago. Most of the others around them have older children gone for the day, earning or stealing them food. The two of them have always been alone in the world. The Charborns were going to eventually starve and die, no doubt about it.

_____________________________________________________​

Huh...? What happened? I look at the alleyway and see absolutely nothing. The girl and the two men are gone. What happened to them? I get the worst feeling that the men have made away with the girl, but those concerns can take a backseat because AAAAH I'M BLEEDING OUT!

I realize I have no actual methods of making bandages and no idea how to make them. I take off my armor and tear a sleeve off my shirt, wrapping it around the wound as tightly as I can. This is probably unsanitary and rather crude, but it'll make me die slower for now. I shove the leather armor back onto myself and stagger out of the alley.