The Backways Bar [RP]

why is it that whenever something made by a uzb member exists, uzb just comes and takes it over

 

[OOC: do you really think he's sane enough to do so?]

 

that's gonna be my response whenever anyone asks me to do something

 

Calennius whispers something to the bartender, and within a few minutes, the automaton hands a glass of strange red liquid to them. Calennius pushes one of the drinks to Luthan, taking a sip of the other.
“What do you seek, Luthan? I speak not as a priest of the Cult, but as a fellow planeshifter; a weary traveler, tiring but not just tired yet, who’s seen far and lived far longer than they should.”
“I known many who travel for power. Is that what you seek? To be hailed as a ruler of worlds, worshipped fervently in temples of your own make. Is it wealth? To collect riches from across the Greater Plane, countless invaluable treasures in every size and shape?”
They shake their head. For a second, Calennius meets Luthan’s eyes, his gaze deep and knowing. In those shifting depths, Luthan sees a multitude of possibilities and facts-hundreds of thousands of collected truths, libraries worth of accumulated knowledge. He nearly reassesses his judgement of the cultist then and there. No, they weren’t a simple power-bent or fervor-driven acolyte of the Sovereign; far from that. Whatever they wanted; Luthan knew it was far beyond him to piece together just yet.
“No,” Calennius says, surprising him. “You are an earnest man. You simply want to preserve-is that not it? A noble cause, with great reason for doing so.”
Their eyes change to a turquoise blue. “And yet, consider what you speak of again. By stopping those who bring change, do you not bring change yourself? Is trade-interaction between societies not a fundamental tenet of civilization?
What I myself seek is simple. I do not want power, nor status, nor wealth. Passion, progress, even curiosity have all long lost their appeal.
No. I only wish for one thing. Death, you see, comes to all eventually. We may believe we have escaped it, but it lays its cold hands on us all the same, catching us whether with surprise or acceptance. I do not want to cheat death-to do so would be foolish. No. When it comes for me, faceless and looming, I want to stare into its gaze and know I won.”
Calennius sets the drink on the table. It’s now completely empty.

[OOC] On a side note, Ssurvivor’s lore doc just got a major revamp, with several new sections, including one detailing all the major subplots so far. I highly suggest you help edit/write or at least provide some feedback.

 

As Eoc picks up the glass he notices the shape and some drops of fluid. Startled, he conjures another scroll. Scanning the parchment he seems to find what he is looking for.

Spoiler: The Scroll

Sike, I’m lazy

He walks towards the bartender and orders a vial of enigma. He then brings it to Low and forces him to drink. “Alright this better work because you have much to answer for.”

 

"What do you seek, Frostbearer?"
Low braces and holds his head for a moment. The occurrence passes. He looks at the vial.
"And how do you know things that cause themselves to become obscure?"

 

“When you study under Thalaik himself you learn to pick up on the little things.” Eoc drops both scrolls which shatter into ice. “But that is not important. Why have your men been attacking the shrines of Hernan? And what has caused you to enter this… state of insanity?”

 

Calennius turns to the newcomer. “I can’t say you’re wrong; I have many names, and most of them, like what’d you expect from one of my order, are lies.
I call myself Calennius-although it’s most likely false as well. Perhaps I’m just a lie myself; a thought, a fancy, a construct of words and concepts.”
Their eyes turn to black. “And who, Ferlozen, may you be? I have to say, your planet is quite lovely, although I haven’t had much of a chance to explore it just yet.”
Calennius smiles. “Have a drink,” they say, taking one from the countertop. “I must apologize for what my associates have done in your world. They were drastically overreacting to your technological prowess-bringing a bomber plane to a sword fight, after all, is a bit too extreme of a measure even for my tastes.”

 

Thedra appears at Cal's side. Her posture is a little more uptight, her voice a little less slurred.
"Now, I ain't no philosopher," she says, "but I am curious. What exactly d'you mean, 'won'? I mean, what do ya gotta do to 'win' against death? Me personally, I'd say escaping it is the damn best thing one can do."

Thedra is probing your thoughts.

"I myself come from a broken little land, a chaotic little place - back home, it was everyone's hope to beat death. Them sorcerers with their magic spells, and them scientists with their . . . experiments . . ."
Thedra trails off, and her eyes start slowly turning a familiar shade of crimson.
It would be about now that you notice the blood staining both of her claws.

She shakes her head, and her eyes turn back to their metallic silver, the same as the rest of her head.

"The point is, cheatin' death is everything I've ever known. We didn' think it 'foolish' - there were those living in that realm who'd lived a thousand years or more! We always thought of dyin' as the ultimate loss - once ya die, the hordes claim another member, and Death becomes that much more powerful. It's so hard to get anythin' done if you only have seventy-odd years to do it - I myself have been living for at least three hundred. That's just what it takes to make an impact on this here planet."

 

Calennius has surprised Luthan again. Their eyes must have some kind of sight beyond his, and while they give him the same lecture he’s heard from others he met on his otherworldly travels, they seem different from the others…
“If you disagree, why do you follow them?”

 

"Hernan? Sevrien... looking for something, then? Should've been in the Eye."

 

“Are you not commanding these so called master thieves? And besides, most shrines take up an oath of poverty.” As Eoc says this, a little bumblebee-like insect, seemingly made from ice, flys onto Eoc’s shoulder. “Hmmm? Oh…”

 

"Hmm?..."
xownfos stirs slightly, lifts her head, and rubs her eyes. she's clearly a bit delirious.
"Wha... Everything's so... blurry."
She continue to rubs her eyes.
"My eyes hurt... Feels like... I've fought off... an entire army... with them."
There's still a faint glow from the middle of xownfos' forehead where the eye was.
"I don't... recognize... y'all. And... an ice fly?... Isn't that... mine? Or is it? I don't remember. But it looks so similar..."
Opening one of her hands, she replicates the ice fly perfectly, and allows it to fly around her head.
She then sits up, scratching her head and puts her chin in her hands.

"But I remember... what do you call it. Plane... planeshifting? I must... I must know more of this... planshifting."
She pauses slightly.
"And I must know more of the new comers."
xownfos' downs the rest of the drink next to her, and instantly transforms into a different person. The cloud in her eyes dissipates, her posture seems to straighten, and overall she seems more alert.
"Mm. That's better."
She stands up and walks over to the bar.
"Another icevein if you would."
"And before i forget, new folk, why don't you introduce yourselves?"

[ooc: this is definitely me being super in-character and definitely not me being inactive over the weekend because of chinese new year. mmhm yep.
second, uzb will never have full control of the backway while I'm here. muahahaha. or at least until i join uzb
third, wow there are so many characters in this now lol it's a bit hard to keep track in my head.
fourth, also reply 200 wowow]

 

Calennius clears their throat and begins to speak.
What they say is recorded in this post (which also serves as a standalone story): https://forums.wynncraft.com/thread...ed-from-the-world-of-the-backways-bar.306401/

 

"No. Sevrien. Wants... artifact? Maybe?"
Low shudders and breathes deeply.

 

Thedra sits there, a contemplative but confused look on her face. She opens her mouth as if to ask a question, and then closes it and shakes her head.
Eventually, she speaks.
"I . . . I had never heard that story before. I suppose I never did wonder why folks all called him 'thrice-cursed'.
So, your goal is to become one of the deathless, like Irivex?
The tale makes it seem like not too pleasant of an experience. Irivex always did seem remorseful, to a certain extent.
I suppose it makes sense he had no soul."
Thedra's southern accent becomes less pronounced while saying these words.

 

Small note of clarification:
Irivex is not the Ascendant Sovereign. While the wording may have been a little confusing, the Ascendant Sovereign is actually dead, unlike the former.

 

xownfos looks to the ceiling as if trying to recall a distant memory, before beginning to speak.
"Those who study the art of death are the first to meet fate. That's what my father told me. Chasing immortality is for the fat and rich. True immortality exists not in the living flesh of creatures, but in the mind and memories of legacies. If you want immortality, leave a mark on the world so large it cannot be erased by anything. Leave a mark that eternally changes the course of time."
"I heard that from a preacher some time ago. Fitting words for the present."

 

“What do I seek? What is my endgame? I believe that’s something that even my associates are still trying to understand.” Calennius glances at the amassed bargoers around them, finally stopping at Thedra. “To put it simply, it is not the fate of your undead friend. There is no point in life without identity, no matter how long or powerful it is. And trust me, I know this from experience; power means nothing to me-at least not anymore.”

 

Eoc is visibly confused. “You are telling me that you have been… usurped by this, Sevrien?” As he is speaking, the bumblebee shatters into shards of ice, just like everything else. However, the shards appear to linger in the air.