(OPEN RP)The Dark Phoenix Reborn

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Necromonger

Senior Member

08-10-2011

http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/410

The sound of murmurs, the curious eyes of onlookers. A crowd was gathered at the giant, dead tree in a ruined park of Krizar.

Except, it wasn't dead anymore.

The long dead tree had become green and vibrant, and the crowd gathered was composed of the sick and elderly. Rumors spread through town of an Ionian woman, a shaman of sorts, who was healing the sick and elderly, and wore the clothes of the local region. It was also said She used no healing crystals but herbs, and charged nothing for her services. In turn, she was given gifts of food by the populace, and a local family had even offered her housing.

In short, it was a sensation.

By the time the rumors had thoroughly spread throughout town, those too poor to afford medicine went to her, waiting their turn. However, one family came forward with their daughter- who had already passed on.

"Please! bring our daughter back to life!" The father pleaded. His daughter was claimed by an illness, and the people gathered began murmuring among themselves if the healer could do it. Elizabeth Wong, daughter of a summoner and an archmagi, was warned by her parents this would happen, eventually. The blind, young shaman stood up and came before the father.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot... death is a part of life, of nature. Some times we must accept..." she started to explain, but the grieving father was only overcome by his feelings. He started to shout angrily, and the crowd was suddenly divided - some sided with the father, demanding his daughter be brought back. Others defended the shaman. Elizabeth could not escape though- she was blind, and the crowd's raw emotions scrambled her senses. She backed up against the tree, unable to do anything.

By then, the incident would be known throughout town, and Elizabeth would be in need of aid.


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Sarkan of Arkham

Senior Member

08-10-2011

((OK then here goes! http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/854))

"Goddam pirates", I'llario cursed aloud for the twenty-seventh time in the past two hours. He had been escorting a merchant ship on it's return trip to Bandle City from Ionia when the bloody blighters ambushed them. He had managed to keep them distracted long enough for his charges to get away unscathed. The same could not be said for the Marrianne ((generic I know, but I had to come up with something on the spot)). The poor 20-foot vessel had lost her mast to cannonfire, and only I'llario's magic kept her from taking on water faster than he could get rid of it. When he could afford to sacrifice a moment, he quickly surveyed the landscape for a suitable place to make landfall. Out of the corner pf his eye he spotted a small port. Strange, he thought. He didn't recall there being any ports around here, leastaways since he had last been through. It would have to do though. Hurriedly the tiny yordle set to work, bailing the water than had built up during his break in attention and changing course for the port.

After running the boat aground on a small stretch of beach, I'llario set into town to try and see if he could find someone to see about repairs. The docks seemed to be still under construction, so there ought to be someone around who new a thing or two about fixing boats, he reasoned. A short way into the shabby little town, he was taken from his thoughts as a number of shouting voices called his attention to the crowd around the corner of the next building. No, not a crowd, thought I'llario, listening closer to the irate humans gathered around the tree. A mob. He moved closer, trying to get a better view of the situation. There were two groups of humans set apart, each unable to be heard over the voices of the other. Down the midle of the split he could see a young woman, with her back to the tree, looking absolutely petrified.

He shouldn't get involved, he told himself. Whenever you get yourself involved in this kind of thing it's always trouble. He looked at the woman again. Their was a youthful innocence about her, accompanied by a look of unimaginable terror across he face. Screw that. Silently cursing himself for whatever may happen to him afterwards, he ran out to the front of the crowds and took the best possible course of action he could think of.

"Hey!" the small red yordle yelled at the top of his lungs, hoping to draw as much attention away from the girl as possible. "Just what the hell is going on here!?"

((Because obviously a single yordle can yell louder than an entire crowd of humans. You know, being a PC and all. Gotta love dramatic preference ))


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SmileyDemon

Senior Member

08-10-2011

http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/881

Gabranth had been wondering the city of Krizar for some time. He had gotten wind that a party was forming to trek into the southlands. Eagerly he asked around for the supposed leader and was willing to beg to be put on the mission. Entering the city park he discovered a large crowd of people surrounding a dead elder tree. "I'm probably older then that tree is Gabranth thought dryly. He saw a woman in the center being closed in by the crowd. Normally he would jump at the chance to aid a maiden but for all he knew he could be her great, great, great, great grandfather.

A meager voice rang out barely mutable over the bustling crowd. Looking over he saw a yordle. He has seen yordles before but it seems now they are no longer the tribal nomads he once knew them to be. Most of the crowd ignored the tiny voice but some burly men approached him cracking their fists. "I shouldn't get involved.' Gabranth thought. His instincts however demanded he make it a fair fight. He dove to be beside the yordle. "Master yordle, you are not alone in this fight. He said drawing his blade.


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Necromonger

Senior Member

08-10-2011

((please don't make references to Lizzie's eyes mate... she's blind. ))

The crowd largely ignored I'llaro when he shouted... and a good number walked away from the man who suddenly pulled a sword. Then the townsfolk run away, scared.

A balding cabbage merchant, not wishing to be part of the argument- or the fight- was beginning to leave, when the Yordle asked his question. He conveniently explains. "Ah, little one. Apologies for this display, but my friend the lumberjack's daughter passed away because of illness. He demanded the shaman there to bring her back to life... but she said she could not. And now..." He pointed to the tragic scene.

The distraught father holds her dead child in his arms, kneeling and crying. Even blind, Lizzie was able to kneel down to cover the child's face with a cloth, and give the man reassurance.

"Please, do not fight here. They are naught but civilians who had asked too much of me." She said calmly.


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Sarkan of Arkham

Senior Member

08-10-2011

((@Necro sorry, will edit EDIT: WOW either catastrophic reading failure on my part or ninja edit by Necro, dunno which. hang on let me fix this))

I'llario heard the old man's explanation, and gave an affirmative nod in his direction. Craning his neck around to catch sight of the young woman again, he relaxed when he saw that things were beginning to die down. But it would appear that he had another problem. A small group of burly men were approaching, looking menacingly down at him. Aw hell, you knew this kind of thing would happen, I'llario thought to himself, wishing he could deliver a good swift kick to his own rear end. As he prepared to defend himself, he discovered that a another human, a man, had appearred next to him.

"Master yordle, you are not alone in this fight," he said as he drew a long, magnificent blade. Who the heck was this guy?, I'llario thought. He was obviously a soldier of some sort, of quite a bit of importance if his armor was anything to go by, but the design nor the colors matched any region I'llario knew of, and he had never heard an accent quite like his either.. In any case the stranger had only caused the situation to escalate. The group of men hesitated at first, but, obviously thinking they still held the advantage over one man and one yordle, drew weapons of their own and continued to advance ((The town is largely inhabited by mercs after all)). I'llario decided to take the initiative. He didn't want trouble, but it would appear that he was going to be in it if he didn't make it himself. He conjured a single charm, concentrating carefully, and sent forth a forceful cone of water that knocked the humans flat on their backs.


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SmileyDemon

Senior Member

08-10-2011

Gabranth was no rue to magic however in his day it was rare and even dangerous to have the gift of magic. If one did show magical talent they would often be picked up by the Magistrate. Then after years of practice they would be assigned a providence to council. Forgetting the times he quickly sheathed his sword bowing towards I'llario. "Of what region do you council mighty sorcerer? I ask only in the chance you could aid me in my plight."


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Necromonger

Senior Member

08-10-2011

Lizzie frowned slightly, that people would resort to violence. Still, she was given stern warnings when traveling to a mercenary town. She sends the grieving father off, hopefully he'd find closure soon and move on.

Still, the hoodlums got what they deserve, picking fights with people they didn't know. At least the Yordle didn't resort to lethal force. With a diplomatic tone, she spoke to the attackers.

"Please don't think I'll be healing your injuries for starting fights. What would your wives think?" She said with a faint smile. Some of these mercenaries brought family, and grudgingly listened to the Shaman.

Lizzie approaches the duo and bowed deeply, in traditional Ionian fashion. "And I must thank you for not resorting to violence. This town has seen more than its share." up close, it was apparent (to the observant anyway) she had an air of Ionian noble upbringing. From listening to their voices, she could ascertain a few things. She stood up straight once more, and gently moved her long scarlet hair back with one hand, revealing that her eyes were covered with a blindfold, the scarring around her eyes strongly suggesting her lack of sight.

"It sounds like neither of you are natives either, I assume? I too am a recent arrival."


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Sarkan of Arkham

Senior Member

08-10-2011

Mighty sorceror? I'llario thought with a dumbfounded look on his face as the strange man in armor bowed to him. Just who was this guy? Before he could answer the man, the woman from before strode up to him. She had a formal air about herself.

"I must thank you for not resorting to violence. This town has seen more than its share," she said kindly, bowing deeply, in what I'llario recognized as traditional Ionian fashion. "It sounds like neither of you are natives either, I assume? I too am a recent arrival."

"Yeah, I probably should have thought that through better," I'llario said, clearly a little embarrased at all the formality being directed at him, looking over as the last of the unfortunate mercnaries finally got to his feet and walked away with a hand on his chest. "Those few are going to have some right nasty bruises when they wake up tomorrow. Still, I couldn't have just left you there." I'llario smiled weakly. He had never been good with formalties, and certainly hoped he wasn't making as much of a fool of himself as he felt.


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SmileyDemon

Senior Member

08-10-2011

Sensing his discomfort Gabranth quickly rose. I'm sorry I did not mean to offend..." Then the lady from the plaza approached.

I must thank you for not resorting to violence. This town has seen more than its share." Gabranth listened without comprehending.
"It sounds like neither of you are natives either, I assume? I too am a recent arrival." she said. Her voice sounded as the chorus of Icathia once did. He was in awe of her beauty.

Ignoring the sorcerer Gabranth gently took the fair maidens hand kneeling. It was then he noticed her scarred eyes. "Alas, what cruel fate would scar a face such as yours. I see beauty in your eyes and kindness in your soul." He said In his best gentleman's voice.


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Delmegar

Senior Member

08-10-2011

((Necro, you're right. I myself am too blame for having powerful characters in stories and even though both of mine have great abilities; like champions, I will keep them moderate. They will not be OP and will certainly get hurt badly as this RP progresses.

Also, don't worry about enemy characters popping up. I'm very good about creating enemies.))

"Aye, get your things, Mel. You too, Kird. We're unsure of the dangers, if any, and want to be prepared. Kir, you're in charge of scouting. Mel, you'll be there to back us up with magic should we require it." Ordimar smiled, a grotesque expression since his face was partially broken in earlier years. He pushed a mop of his dark hair from his eyes, "Besides.. You're smart. Haha."

A mercenary ran into the Dark Pheonix Manor shouting about a gathering outside. One displaying radical magics that cured a long dead tree, and shortly after, a small riot that was averted by strangers. Many of them. Two of particular note: a soldier in armor, slightly resembling Ordimar's and another who seemed to be pirate - arrived on a damaged ship.

"**** it, I'll take care of it. Ordimar, get things situated here. We need to get provisions, a map, ready the men, and find Dolon. He'll be in charge til we return." Del left the building and descended the winding steps surrounded on both sides by open plains. Overlooking the harbor, in one of the village squares was a formally dead tree from his youth. One that brought back memories.

When he reached the strange group: a woman, a pirate and a knight of sorts. An odd lot. This isn't exactly a tourist town. "Excuse me, calm down all of you. I am Delmegar Amaron, Lord of Krizar and Master of the Dark Phoenix Mercenaries. You all are welcome here. Though I have been told that you have raised some questions that I will need answered before I give you free reign over my town."

Delmegar was flanked by two of his comrades; men wielding swords at their waist, and wearing leather armor ( black with a phoenix on their breasts.). Neither were standing in a threatening manner.

"Don't worry about them. One can never be too sure about strangers. Even in a town like mine." Delmegar flashed a charming smile. He quickly realized that the girl might have been Ionian, by her colors. She stood straight, a little absent in her look, but noble. "Lady, are you Ionian? I was told a healer ventured into town."


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