A darkened castle rests atop a towering mountain, looming high above a boiling, briny ocean. Bubbles snap and pop, as steam rises from the water. Apart from the mountain, there is little land in sight, aside from the odd peak, piercing the surface of the broiling water like so many earthen needles. Walls, towers, and parapets spill over the scraping spires of the mountain like waterfalls, the single building itself being many miles in height. So interwoven are the castle and mountain that to the passing eye, it would be difficult to determine where one began and the other ended.
But few passing eyes will study this castle. The roiling, boiling seas surrounding it keep temperatures so high that little is the life capable of withstanding the heat. No life touches the barren crags of the mountain; cold, steam scorched stone the only thing to greet the fool who dare to venture here. Despite even that, signs of life show from inside. High within the castle, a lone, looming figure is silhouetted against a tall, narrow window. One hand clutches a magical orb, images of places far distant and lost figures swirling in a muddle of mists. The other rests on the windowsill, in a white-knuckled grip that threatened to shatter the very stone upon which it rests. Not far beneath the windowsill rests a small creature wrapped in invisibility, with leathery red skin and bat-like wings. The little thing is so quiet and still that the only thing to give hint that it yet lives is when it blinks.
The room is shrouded in darkness, apart from the glow of the magical implements that cover almost every surface. Half-forgotten experiments, scrolls, and wands litter the room, and it looks to have not seen the caring touch of a thorough cleaning in many, many lifetimes. Perched on a pair of thin desk mounted holders, a small crystalline rod rests atop a desk. Strange wires connect it to several arcane machines, many of which are connected to a single wire that trails to the orb in the figureÂ’s hand.
As the images within the orb clear, the figure hunched desperately over it throws their head back, a piercing, soul-chilling laughter echoing off the dead walls of the keep. “At last, after all these millennia…!” With a wicked smile the figure clenches the hand gripping the window, several small rocks breaking loose and clattering down the jagged walls below. With a thin smile, the figure rests the orb on a pedestal, turning to leave the room with a thin smile. “It will not be long now… Mishka.” Only the faintest rustle of skin and flapping of wings can be heard as the small cloaked creature drops off the tower, bound for its master.
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OOC: This is the primary thread for a world event I've been planning out. The first event will be sometime in the next few weeks as determined by my schedule, and will be posted here. This is an open event, and all levels are welcomed and encouraged to participate, although as we get deeper into the quest chain, things are going to become more difficult. The quest chain will not officially 'begin' until I've posted the first event's teaser, and put word into the SIGIS/Event board in the OOC.
A Gathering Of Winds
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*DM_Slimy_Doom
- Posts: 53
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
In the kingdom of Suzail in the lands of Cormyr...
Hanna went about her work with a smile, though the weight of the crates made her arms buckle a little. Her face was flushed from the hard labor, but in the next few weeks it would all be worth it.
"Good morning Hanna!" The beaming face of a kindly old matron peered out of the church entry, wispy gray hair set into curls that gave the strong impression of a cloud lingering around her head. Her habit was much like Hanna's, a bright white with a triangle of three six-pointed stars displayed prominently. "Has the delivery come in then dearie?"
"Yes Joydancer Valarie!" Hanna lifted the boxes she was carrying slightly, leaning around them to smile back. "There's so many of them! This is going to be the best Festival of Fools yet! Lliira must be smiling on us this year! Ooop!" In Hanna's excitement, she had overbalanced when she was bringing the boxes back to a resting point, and she spent a few moments trying to regain the precarious balance.
She could hear Valarie chuckling from the doorway. "Come in, come in, set them back in the spare room with the King's Regalia. I'll get the others and come help you bring the rest of them in." The old woman produced a key from her sleeve, shuffling over to unlock the store room door as they passed into the church.
"But Joydancer Valarie, you shouldn't be hauling boxes at your age..." Hanna smiled to herself, the old woman was truly irrepressible.
"Nonsense!" Valarie huffed, her cheeks blowing out indignantly as she drew herself up. Her look was stern, but a cheeky grin pulled at the side of her mouth. "I could carry twice as much as you could, you green little spriggan! Don't count me out just because I'm getting on in years!"
Hanna rolled her eyes in amusement. "Yes, Joydancer." Her eyes lit up with excitement, as her thoughts returned to settle on the festival. "I can't wait to see them fight the dragons, this year..."
Valarie must have caught the dreamy look in her eyes, because a gentle swat on the back of her head brought her back to reality. "Here now, mind you don't crush your fingers!" Valarie's tone softened a little. "There will be time aplenty to dream when we've set everything up. I must admit, I'm looking forwards to the tall tales competition, myself. It's always a wonder to see what they come up with each year."
Valarie locked the door behind the two of them, and waved Hanna off with a wrinkled hand. "Get ye on back to the wagons, my dearie. I'll be not long behind you with the others. We're going to make this the best Festival of Fools yet."
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OOC: This event will begin Sunday March 5th, at 4 PM EST (GMT-5). There will be three events; Dragon slaying, Maze running, and Tall-tale telling. All players welcome!
Hanna went about her work with a smile, though the weight of the crates made her arms buckle a little. Her face was flushed from the hard labor, but in the next few weeks it would all be worth it.
"Good morning Hanna!" The beaming face of a kindly old matron peered out of the church entry, wispy gray hair set into curls that gave the strong impression of a cloud lingering around her head. Her habit was much like Hanna's, a bright white with a triangle of three six-pointed stars displayed prominently. "Has the delivery come in then dearie?"
"Yes Joydancer Valarie!" Hanna lifted the boxes she was carrying slightly, leaning around them to smile back. "There's so many of them! This is going to be the best Festival of Fools yet! Lliira must be smiling on us this year! Ooop!" In Hanna's excitement, she had overbalanced when she was bringing the boxes back to a resting point, and she spent a few moments trying to regain the precarious balance.
She could hear Valarie chuckling from the doorway. "Come in, come in, set them back in the spare room with the King's Regalia. I'll get the others and come help you bring the rest of them in." The old woman produced a key from her sleeve, shuffling over to unlock the store room door as they passed into the church.
"But Joydancer Valarie, you shouldn't be hauling boxes at your age..." Hanna smiled to herself, the old woman was truly irrepressible.
"Nonsense!" Valarie huffed, her cheeks blowing out indignantly as she drew herself up. Her look was stern, but a cheeky grin pulled at the side of her mouth. "I could carry twice as much as you could, you green little spriggan! Don't count me out just because I'm getting on in years!"
Hanna rolled her eyes in amusement. "Yes, Joydancer." Her eyes lit up with excitement, as her thoughts returned to settle on the festival. "I can't wait to see them fight the dragons, this year..."
Valarie must have caught the dreamy look in her eyes, because a gentle swat on the back of her head brought her back to reality. "Here now, mind you don't crush your fingers!" Valarie's tone softened a little. "There will be time aplenty to dream when we've set everything up. I must admit, I'm looking forwards to the tall tales competition, myself. It's always a wonder to see what they come up with each year."
Valarie locked the door behind the two of them, and waved Hanna off with a wrinkled hand. "Get ye on back to the wagons, my dearie. I'll be not long behind you with the others. We're going to make this the best Festival of Fools yet."
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OOC: This event will begin Sunday March 5th, at 4 PM EST (GMT-5). There will be three events; Dragon slaying, Maze running, and Tall-tale telling. All players welcome!
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*DM_Slimy_Doom
- Posts: 53
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
"Congratulations, Rexxer Killgore." Princess Obarskyr's voice rang out above the gathered crowd, the bodies of the patchcloth dragons on the ground behind them. The purple dragons were still attempting to extricate themselves from the mess, swearing. "You have proven yourself to have the spirit of a true King of Fools. Though a foreigner to our lands, you have showed us what it means to truly celebrate and live with a free spirit. May that same spirit infuse our proud kingdom in the days to come."
The war wizard placed the fancy cloak around Rexxar's shoulders, bestowing a scepter and a prize pool on the ogre. "The Kingdom of Cormyr thanks all of you for attending and adding your joy to ours as we celebrate our lives and freedoms."
The war wizard placed the fancy cloak around Rexxar's shoulders, bestowing a scepter and a prize pool on the ogre. "The Kingdom of Cormyr thanks all of you for attending and adding your joy to ours as we celebrate our lives and freedoms."
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*DM_Slimy_Doom
- Posts: 53
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Nobles' District, City of Brass
"Report."
The chains on the heavy brass collars of the Azer guards jangled with a dull metallic sound as they saluted the towering Efreeti. He wore a violet sleeveless vest over his bare chest, fine jewels embedded in the fabric as it descended his body. A tall orange turban crested his head, adding easily another foot and a half to his height. Brass rings hung from his ears, and many gem-studded rings graced his hands. His hands (ringed by jade and emerald bands) rose to cross over his chest, his chin sharply out as he gazed down at the diminutive beings. The glittering grip of a gemstone encrusted falchion poked through a leather belt tied around his waist.
The six Azer that had been stationed in the room never broke gaze, as one with an amethyst embedded in his collar took a brisk step forwards. "No one but us and yourself, Sheyk Kalil-ur-rehman. Even if they were to try something, the wards on these exhibits would make short work of them."
Kalil-ur-rehman's brows narrowed, as his gaze swept the room. It had taken him centuries, collecting these fine priceless artifacts. The Burning Inspiration was his pride and joy. To see the look of mortals as they tried to comprehend the amount of money... and power it took to acquire the things that he had managed to obtain for display in this museum. It was simply a delight to his senses. The influx of slaves as those of lesser morals tried to make off with heavier purses... well, that was simply a bonus.
But today, Kalil-ur-rehman was in a mood of the highest displeasure. The crackle of temper was palpable, and the Azer second from the left shuddered involuntarily at their lord's disposition. The note in his clenched fist crackled as he squeezed without thought, the stamp of a pair of bull horns emblazoned in ink upon the outside.
"But of course it is so. See to it that that remains true!" Kalil-ur-rehman seemed to grow until he was nearly twice his size, almost a fully twenty feet in measure. The torches on the wall started to billow an ominous smoke as a ring on one of his fingers flared brightly for a moment. "Knossos' letter spoke of an attempt not a few scant days from now!"
The Efreeti's eyes scanned the ominously fogged room. Of all the exhibits of the Burning Inspiration, this room was truly the most magnificent of them all. Within the cases, the most expensive, most valuable pieces of all. There, a small money pouch. A pair of indistinct small black stones. The number of people he had to kill for the first of those pieces alone... His gaze continued on past a potent looking magi's staff, a crown, atop which rested many stalked eyeballs, and a cloak made out of brilliant red and orange feathers, until it came to settle upon the case at the center of the collection.
A thin, crystalline rod, mounted upright. Oh how it sparkled by the firelight. The glimmer of its facets was nothing short of mesmerizing, the rod was beauty incarnate. To finally get his hands on something so powerful only a few scant weeks ago...
A smirk lifted the edge of his mouth, as he walked closer. His hand drifted outwards, drawing closer to the glass. But as he drew it to a stop mere inches away, a hungry, sizzling black void seemed to encase the face of the case he nearly touched. It was a horrible, empty thing, aggressively empty and uncaring. It was not beautiful at all. But such protections were necessary to defend his prizes from unscrupulous hands... Hands like those of Knossos, terror of the Astral Sea.
With a sudden spin, he snatched up one of the guard Azer in his massive hand. Scowling, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "There is just over a week before the reopening. See to it that neither the minotaur nor any of his feeble crew lay a finger on my possessions. Or you will find yourself wishing for the merciful release of death." Suddenly taken by a vicious brooding, Kalil-ur-rehman swept out of the exhibition room, ripping the note open and reading through it again.
As his footsteps receeded down the chiseled obsidian corridor, there could be heard several sighs of relief. But not, thankfully, by the Sheyk.
"Who's this Knossos body that has the Sheyk so worked up, I'd like to know..."
"You're serious? You haven't heard of the Horned Horror of the Astral?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. Just take off my collar and go 'round to the library, I'm sure there's something on him."
"Ah, go easy on him. Hasn't had time to adjust to his situation yet. Remind me again, what was it? Theft?"
"Huh, you'd like to know. Fine, fine, quit hanging it over me and tell me already."
"Knossos is the leader of a pirate spelljammer, raiding from out of the Astral Plane. Seems to think he's good enough to announce himself ahead of time. I've only heard stories."
"Oh yeah? Well I heard..."
-------------------------
Somewhere in the Astral Sea...
In a ship adrift in a sea of stars, a Minotaur stood studying a set of diagrams.
"It will be easy, a simple thing."
Knossos lets out a heavy snort. "You're sure? I've never seen security this tight. Not the sort of thing my crew usually goes for."
"Ah, but why not. You are bold, you are capable, and most importantly, you deserve it. You deserve power. If he cannot stop you, then what right does he have to keep it?"
"Hrrnfh. It is a nice thought... What do you get out of it?"
"That is hardly important right n-"
"It's very important. I like to know what I'm dealing with ahead of time."
"Well, if you must know, this Sheyk Kalil-ur-rehman has managed to get his hands on something very important to me. While you're performing your little stunt, I am going to lay my own plans, to take back what is rightfully mine."
Knossos narrows his eyes, adjusting the tricorn on his head. "So long as you keep your end of our bargain."
"Of course I will, mortal. Do not concern yourself with that. I have every interest in seeing you obtain your prize, of that I assure you. "
--------------
OOC: This event will begin Friday May 19th, at 4 PM EST (GMT-5). All players welcome!
"Report."
The chains on the heavy brass collars of the Azer guards jangled with a dull metallic sound as they saluted the towering Efreeti. He wore a violet sleeveless vest over his bare chest, fine jewels embedded in the fabric as it descended his body. A tall orange turban crested his head, adding easily another foot and a half to his height. Brass rings hung from his ears, and many gem-studded rings graced his hands. His hands (ringed by jade and emerald bands) rose to cross over his chest, his chin sharply out as he gazed down at the diminutive beings. The glittering grip of a gemstone encrusted falchion poked through a leather belt tied around his waist.
The six Azer that had been stationed in the room never broke gaze, as one with an amethyst embedded in his collar took a brisk step forwards. "No one but us and yourself, Sheyk Kalil-ur-rehman. Even if they were to try something, the wards on these exhibits would make short work of them."
Kalil-ur-rehman's brows narrowed, as his gaze swept the room. It had taken him centuries, collecting these fine priceless artifacts. The Burning Inspiration was his pride and joy. To see the look of mortals as they tried to comprehend the amount of money... and power it took to acquire the things that he had managed to obtain for display in this museum. It was simply a delight to his senses. The influx of slaves as those of lesser morals tried to make off with heavier purses... well, that was simply a bonus.
But today, Kalil-ur-rehman was in a mood of the highest displeasure. The crackle of temper was palpable, and the Azer second from the left shuddered involuntarily at their lord's disposition. The note in his clenched fist crackled as he squeezed without thought, the stamp of a pair of bull horns emblazoned in ink upon the outside.
"But of course it is so. See to it that that remains true!" Kalil-ur-rehman seemed to grow until he was nearly twice his size, almost a fully twenty feet in measure. The torches on the wall started to billow an ominous smoke as a ring on one of his fingers flared brightly for a moment. "Knossos' letter spoke of an attempt not a few scant days from now!"
The Efreeti's eyes scanned the ominously fogged room. Of all the exhibits of the Burning Inspiration, this room was truly the most magnificent of them all. Within the cases, the most expensive, most valuable pieces of all. There, a small money pouch. A pair of indistinct small black stones. The number of people he had to kill for the first of those pieces alone... His gaze continued on past a potent looking magi's staff, a crown, atop which rested many stalked eyeballs, and a cloak made out of brilliant red and orange feathers, until it came to settle upon the case at the center of the collection.
A thin, crystalline rod, mounted upright. Oh how it sparkled by the firelight. The glimmer of its facets was nothing short of mesmerizing, the rod was beauty incarnate. To finally get his hands on something so powerful only a few scant weeks ago...
A smirk lifted the edge of his mouth, as he walked closer. His hand drifted outwards, drawing closer to the glass. But as he drew it to a stop mere inches away, a hungry, sizzling black void seemed to encase the face of the case he nearly touched. It was a horrible, empty thing, aggressively empty and uncaring. It was not beautiful at all. But such protections were necessary to defend his prizes from unscrupulous hands... Hands like those of Knossos, terror of the Astral Sea.
With a sudden spin, he snatched up one of the guard Azer in his massive hand. Scowling, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "There is just over a week before the reopening. See to it that neither the minotaur nor any of his feeble crew lay a finger on my possessions. Or you will find yourself wishing for the merciful release of death." Suddenly taken by a vicious brooding, Kalil-ur-rehman swept out of the exhibition room, ripping the note open and reading through it again.
As his footsteps receeded down the chiseled obsidian corridor, there could be heard several sighs of relief. But not, thankfully, by the Sheyk.
"Who's this Knossos body that has the Sheyk so worked up, I'd like to know..."
"You're serious? You haven't heard of the Horned Horror of the Astral?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. Just take off my collar and go 'round to the library, I'm sure there's something on him."
"Ah, go easy on him. Hasn't had time to adjust to his situation yet. Remind me again, what was it? Theft?"
"Huh, you'd like to know. Fine, fine, quit hanging it over me and tell me already."
"Knossos is the leader of a pirate spelljammer, raiding from out of the Astral Plane. Seems to think he's good enough to announce himself ahead of time. I've only heard stories."
"Oh yeah? Well I heard..."
-------------------------
Somewhere in the Astral Sea...
In a ship adrift in a sea of stars, a Minotaur stood studying a set of diagrams.
"It will be easy, a simple thing."
Knossos lets out a heavy snort. "You're sure? I've never seen security this tight. Not the sort of thing my crew usually goes for."
"Ah, but why not. You are bold, you are capable, and most importantly, you deserve it. You deserve power. If he cannot stop you, then what right does he have to keep it?"
"Hrrnfh. It is a nice thought... What do you get out of it?"
"That is hardly important right n-"
"It's very important. I like to know what I'm dealing with ahead of time."
"Well, if you must know, this Sheyk Kalil-ur-rehman has managed to get his hands on something very important to me. While you're performing your little stunt, I am going to lay my own plans, to take back what is rightfully mine."
Knossos narrows his eyes, adjusting the tricorn on his head. "So long as you keep your end of our bargain."
"Of course I will, mortal. Do not concern yourself with that. I have every interest in seeing you obtain your prize, of that I assure you. "
--------------
OOC: This event will begin Friday May 19th, at 4 PM EST (GMT-5). All players welcome!