IC

Name: Prisha

Age:23

Height: 5"7

Race: Aquilonian

Social Class: Freewoman

Occupation: Dancer/Spy

     Born from a wealthy family in Old Tarantia, Prisha was to be raised to become a merchant. At the age of 13 she began to accompany her father in journeys that took her around the world, meeting different people and learning the trade. Her father always told her that information is key to one's survival and wealth. At the age of 18, Prisha was in charge of her own trading caravan. 

The days and nights in Tortage passed swiftly for both of them.  Pradhana calculated her next moves with a greater calm and adaptability than Cakara had expected.  She had found them work, plenty of it in fact, and as soon she was confident enough that they had not been followed, she moved them back to Stygian soil, a discreet and comfortable distance from her mother’s estate.

Her tension was apparent, as was her desire to try new things, to learn new skills.  Both of these things she demonstrated as Cakara rowed them down the River Styx in search of further fame and fortune to propel her independent reign.  She sat on his lap, curling a hand suggestively around the right oar, deliberately distracting his work.

“Give me the oar, I wish to row.”  She purred up at him, her eyes narrowing into sultry slits framed in expensive makeup.

The woman lay moaning in the grand birthing chamber down the hall, writhing about on her feather stuffed mound of fine silken linens from the Far East.  She whimpered and whined, complaining of her discomfort while the majority of the household scurried about in preparations of the coming child.  Her anguished sounds filled the Stygian palace, chilling the already cold little boy of about five years age, who sat shirtless, illuminated by a hundred beeswax candles.  The curious child watched the three men who gathered around him prepare several implements, speaking in hushed tones more for the sake of not disturbing their pain wracked mistress than frightening the bewildered child.

Celebrate the night when the Veil between worlds is at its thinnest, Khitan style!

And we have proof!

Report on the Action at the Ruins in the Wild Lands

Regent Atrinark,

My report begins upon our arrival in the ruins. Our mission was to search the ruins for any sign of a link between the ruins and the daemon which attacked Tattyana. I had initially planned to take the Shaman with her husband as her guard, and rely on the Heavy Cohort for the rest. However after listening to rumors from villagers in the town of Tesso, and numerous traders arriving in Poitain which often traveled through the area, I decided that a more diverse group was called for. With me were the following persons.

Gorthol the Warrior. Heavy Cohort.

Amernia the Scout. Auxilla

Emma the Huntress. Auxilla

Rethrin the Hunter. Auxilla

The surface of the water is troubled. Silver glides through the pool of tears in great pain and sorrow. She opens her mind and consumes the liquid like a tonic, heightening her visionary command, sharpening her sight. Around her the waters fade and form shadows mingled with the cries of desperation and despair. The supernatural elements resonate and surround her here, and the shaman begins to see the scorched and barren sands of Kheshatta whose grains are tainted with darkening stain.

The vision unfolds and she listens to its distress. Harkening to the deep acumen, it reveals the spirit of the woman wondering the desert, her belly swollen with child. She cries out to the darkness and hears silence in answer. The woman stumbles to knee. The child comes. Silver wonders who calls to her spirit as she doubles in pain to labor the birthing of the One...

Full Name: Rohierim
Nick Names:  Roh

Age: 27
Race: Aquilonian
Gender: Male
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Blue
Skin: Light Tan
Height: 5' 5''
Weight:197 lbs

Place of Residence: I do like spending my down time on a bench in the common area of Old Tarantia.

Place of Birth: Old Tarantia
Known Relatives: Mother Celia

Group/Guild Association: Cymbrogi
Guild Rank: Knight, Patrol Leader, Recruiter

Religion/Philosophy: Praise the Mitra for the strength given to me!
Occupation: Soldier/Guardian

Weapons of Choice:  Short Sword and Shield. Sometimes a spear does the job well.
Enemies: All followers of Lol.

The snow clung to the fiery curls of the man's beard like the most tenacious burrs or brambles.  The blue paint on his face had long since cracked and flaked to be nearly unrecognizable.  Had it once been a bird?  Hard to tell.  His thick furs held much of the winter's offal as did his gloved hands and large scabbard.  As he walked south through the swirling blizzard, he half hoped one woman had moved on and forgotten him... and half hoped she would be waiting to give him the worst tounge lashing he'd ever recieved...   A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth, and he trudged ever south... back toward civilization...

Everything was neat and elegant, just as he liked it.

The granite dining table set with a complete service of silver-gilt flatware, rich cut glass, and fine burgundy napkins of the softest silk. The Necromancer sat motionless at the head of the ornate table, his index fingers pressed to his lips in thought. The lengthy candles cradled in a pair of five-branched candelabras were burnt down to mere stubs.* Covered plates containing his favorite dish had long grown cold. He finally let out a long, disappointed sigh, resigning himself to the obvious.

That mendacious cunt had stood him up.

Full Name: Lora Ashly Cleo
Nick Names: Fox, Miss. Red, Puppet
Date of Birth: Unknown
Age: 25
Race: Stygian/ Chimerian
Gender: Female
Hair: Blond
Eyes: yellow
Skin: light brown
Height: 5.5
Weight:130lb

Place of Residence: Seen mostly in Kemi

Place of Birth: Stygia
Known Relatives: None

Group/Guild Association: Legion in flames, The Agency, Rose Scribes.
Guild Rank: n/a

Religion/Philosophy: Circle of life
Occupation: Ninja/ assassin

Weapon of Choice: Daggers
Enemies: Unknown
Likes:

Favorite foods: Squash
Favorite Drink: Mint tea
Favorite Color: Red
Dislikes: Know it alls
Hobbies: Clay work, Flute, exercising, and children’s games
Physical Features: Lora has markings of slave of set and portal of set along her body as well as a small tear drop size tattoo of a fox foot behind her left ear.

Next Wednesday, November 11th, the web server will come down in the morning for the installation of a new operating system.  If everything goes as expected, I plan for the site to be back up by noon.  I'll be working to backup everything over the next week, but you should likely go ahead and back up anything truly precious to you (if you don't already have a copy somewhere).  I fully expect everything to come back up as you see it now, but I don't want anyone to lose their creativity because of a technical error.

I plan to lock down RP-Haven during the day Tuesday so I can back up the database without people adding blogs and updating things, etc.

If you have any questions, reply here.

She awoke with a start. Something wasn’t right. “Keptah…” she breathed.


Sitting up in her bed, she looked out her open window into the night sky. She could see the stars, beautiful against the dark expanse. She could no longer feel his presence. He was gone.


She suddenly felt a strong sinking feeling in her chest. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. She quickly cast a simple spell and realized that she was healthy. What could this feeling be? She had heard others talk of love sickness… but surely that could not be what this was. Then again… could it?

Hot Gardack Nights

A mosquito zipped and buzzed about the mammothskin tent, bumping up futilely against the soot covered ceiling searching for an escape.  Neverlin sighed, dabbing the moister from his forehead with a silk napkin and sunk deeper into an arrangement of satin pillows.  Even in the late evening the sticky hot weather was intolerable, and he was sweating like a virgin in the Pyramid of Ancients.  A pile of searing red coals in the center of the tent certainly didn’t help matters either. The mosquito dove towards him suddenly, perilously close, but still just out of the Necromancer’s grasp. With a blink, Neverlin snuffed the life force out of the tiny insect and watched it spiral downward onto the smoldering coals, incinerating it with a faint sizzle.

He really hated the swamps.

Is it possible to embed a chat room into the haven?

I think this would be a good place to do some lve event coordination.

*** After their run in with Amtexa from the Grey Knights, Keptah and
Cymera seek refuge in their Guild City of Hus in Poitain.  They walk to the large study in the Library.***

*** Keptah summons one of the students and instructs him to take Cymera to her room and ensure that she is comfortable.***

[Keptah]: "Cymera?"

[Cymera]: yes?

[Keptah]: "About the scene back there... You do know... that I never meant what I said... about you being nothing to me..."

[Cymera]: *she looks at him almost tenderly* i know that

[Keptah]: **He bows his head in respect.** "I just... was hoping you knew this... And I apologize for letting my anger get the best of me..."

[Cymera]: do not worry... it was justified... *she grimaces* amtexa turned out to be just like the others

[Keptah]: "You must understand..."

"Its fer the best..." 

Doc said as he trudged on through the snow.  He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than the horse he appeared to be talking to...

"She'll hate me... She'll move on... an' She'll be happy an' safe, right?" 

He pets the horse's mane, trying to calm himself.  It doesn't seem to be working.  He frowns and rubs his eyes as he continues to trudge uphill, moving farther and farther into the mountains.

"Its fer the best..."

((Leaving Iraq! :D Losing access to game for a bit D:  I'll keep checking on this from time to time... so if ya wanna keep contact, I'll try to check it out ;)  Love RPing with you guys, and as the governer of the great state of California once said.... I'll be back.))

[Keptah]: "Can you see it ahead of us?" **He asks Cymera**

[Cymera]: yes *she eyes him with a smirk because he looks to be hiding in the bushes*

[Keptah]: "What is it you see?"

[Keptah]: "I ask."

[Cymera]: i assume you are speaking of the ship

[Cymera]: *her eyebrow arches in interest*

[Keptah]: "And it is why you are incorrect, Cymera..."

[Cymera]: what is it you speak of then?

[Keptah]: "Death, war, souls to be left for wandering... Chaos... I see these things as mere objectives which we, meaning; you and I, must come to pass and complete... Together..."

[Keptah]: "You and I, we are one... United... We are legion, yet in two forms... Not one."

[Keptah]: "Twice as strong..."

[Keptah]: "My goals are yours."

[Keptah]: "And yours are mine..."